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actiniumwrites · 9 months

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hiya! if your requests are still open could i request a scenario any of the “immortal” characters (e.x: the archons & adepti) with a mortal!reader who exchanges a part of them to become immortal so that they don’t have to worry about leaving the character? the reader’s gender is up to you!

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 (𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄)

synopsis: in which you exchange your vision for immortality, determined to live an eternity with your lover

characters: venti, zhongli, scaramouche, and dainsleif x gn!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions of death and mortality, fear of death, mentions of morbid conversations, scaramouche might be a little ooc here, purposefully inaccurate depictions of how celestia and visions work

notes: um so this request was sent to me back in november of 2022, so, anon, i am very sorry it took me so long to write this. i loved the idea a lot so i hope you enjoy this. also i’m not 100% sure scaramouche is immortal, but he’s been around for centuries and isn’t human so we’re just going to assume he is 👍

Venti:

The wind was blowing softly as you walked up to the giant tree, Vennessa’s Tree. You could hear the faint sounds of a lyre playing an alluring tune among it. If your boyfriend was anywhere, it was here…or the bar.

An off key note made your eyes snap up from where you were watching the ground, not expecting him to have heard you so easily.

“Hello, my love!” Venti cheered.

“Hi, Venti,” you lovingly spoke softly, moving to sit down next to him. Your head carefully moved to rest upon his shoulder and he continued to play softly, although this time around, it was a different song — one of your favorites.

A smile pulled at the sides of your lips. It was the first one since you’d gotten back from your journey. The very same journey your boyfriend was unaware of.

When he finished playing it, Venti set the lyre down next to him against a tree root. His face turned serious, “Something’s wrong.”

“Is there?” you played dumb, unsure of how to bring up the topic at hand. Venti didn’t fall for it. He never did.

He began to scan over your body for any sign of injuries, afraid something bad happened. When he saw there was nothing there, his hands gently placed themselves on the sides of your cheeks so he could rotate your head. He smiled the whole time, but you knew he was just masking his concern.

“I can feel it,” he said slowly, eyes squinting as he looked far off into the distance, “something’s different.”

You tried to hold it back, but tears sprung to your eyes. There was no hiding it now, “Venti, I…”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he hurriedly wiped your tears as you looked up at him, “it’s okay, I swear! You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s just,” you sniffled. The tears weren’t from injuries or hurt feelings, but simply because you were overwhelmed. The entirety of your future was now uncertain aside from the fact that you could no longer face death. You had centuries ahead of you, and it wasn’t something you had before, “my vision. I traded it.”

“What? Why would you…” he mumbled, mind racing back and forth. You loved your vision. It was something you had worked so hard for as a child, a representation of your dedication. It wasn’t like you needed money or anything, so why would you get rid of it?

Through your tear filled eyes, you smiled, “You don’t have to worry anymore, Ven. All those years ahead, we can spend them together.”

“You…you’re…?” he breathed out heavily, realization hitting him all at once. A smile broke through his lips, happy tears of his own were beginning to form, “you did that for me?”

You nodded and he threw himself against you, embracing you tightly. In all the years he had been alive, Venti was sure he would be alone forever. But in life and death, you were with him forever.

Zhongli:

Zhongli hadn’t noticed right away.

He was perceptive, yes, but there didn’t seem to be anything amiss with you at first. You often hid things very well. It was one of the only things he didn’t like about you. If something were to go wrong because he wasn’t observant enough with you, Zhongli would feel perpetually guilty.

It wasn’t until weeks after your journey that he had finally realized something had changed.

You seemed normal for the past few weeks. There were a few moments where you were oddly fidgety or anxious, but he chalked it up to the fact that you had just gotten back from a work trip. Perhaps you were tired out from it. Plenty of people came back a little on edge from trips, he had seen it first hand.

When it became continuous, worries began to whisper in his ear. No, he hadn’t thought you cheated or did something bad. Zhongli knew you well enough to know you weren’t that kind of person. If anything, he was worried that something bad had happened to you. That maybe someone hurt you or there was something you couldn’t tell him.

So, he brought it up at dinner one day.

His hand reached across the table, warmly cupping it around yours. His thumb gently traced over the back of it, a soothing action he knew you loved. He inhaled and pursed his lips before bluntly asking, “Did someone hurt you? Because if they did, I want you to know you can tell me and I will take care of it.”

Your face morphed into confusion, awkwardly laughing at his wild assumptions, “I’m sorry, what? Where’d you get that idea?”

Zhongli retracted his hand from yours slowly. His face was now equally as confused as yours, “I apologize, my love. You have been acting rather off since your trip. I thought maybe something bad had happened or someone may have hurt you. Am I incorrect?”

Another awkward laugh fell from your lips before you sighed and averted your eyes to look out the window of the restaurant, “Yes, but nothing bad happened. I’ve just been a little…down about something.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head a bit to the side, “If you were feeling upset, you could have come to me. You know I hate to see you like that.”

“I know, I just,” you started hesitantly, “I wasn’t ready to tell you yet.”

“Tell me…what?”

The whirlwind of emotions you had been feeling over the past few weeks began to hit you harshly and you couldn’t stop the tears from forming in your eyes, “I traded my vision, Zhongli.”

He took a few seconds to process, but his hand grabbed yours again. He wasn’t sure what you were talking about, but the fact that you were crying was enough to scare him, “I…I am afraid I do not understand.”

“I made a deal with Celestia…to be come immortal. In exchange for immortality, they took my vision,” you explained slowly, staring down at the table.

Zhongli rose from his seat slowly before walking to your side of the table. He kneeled down beside you, a few tears springing at his own eyes as he looked directly into yours, “Why would you do that?”

“For you,” you breathed out happily, cupping his face as the tears fell from your eyes “I want to be with you forever, Zhongli.”

Zhongli rose a bit from his place on the floor. Cupping your face with his hands, he kissed you softly, yet eagerly. You could feel the love and passion with in it. All the sadness melted away in an instant.

He had witnessed so many of his friends and past lovers parish before him. Victims to time and mortality. But here you were, willing to sacrifice something you cared for so much to spend an eternity with him.

And in that moment, Zhongli realized he’s never loved someone as much as he’s loved you.

Scaramouche:

You were used to Scaramouche pushing you away when things got rough. Not because he was angry with you or tired of you, but because his emotions were too much to handle. The sadness was too much to bear.

The conversation of immortality had come up very often. A worry of his that he just couldn’t seem to shake.

What would happen when you were gone?

How was he supposed to move on?

Love someone else?

If Scaramouche was being honest, he knew there was no way he could love another. Not after you, the one person he’s ever truly loved and the only one he hasn’t lost. You understood and cared for him in a way that no one else ever had or ever could. Despite not having a real heart, his love for you was so strong enough to make him feel like he did.

When you left for some sort of trip, Scaramouche hadn’t been suspicious of anything. You claimed it was for your job — just a week long trip out of Sumeru to take care of some business. It seemed urgent, according to you at least. He understood and didn’t question any part of your story, even if it did have holes in it.

Although he didn’t show it outwardly, the week without you was rather miserable for him. Anytime you were gone, everything seemed to remind him of the centuries that he had been alone. The people he had watched die or turn on him and how weak he felt. It made him wonder, once again, how he could ever live without you.

When you returned days later, it was late at night. The lights to your shared home were turned off and everything was silent. You dropped your things inside, but before you could head to your room, you caught a glimpse of your boyfriend through the window. His hat was cast aside on the grass next to him where he was lying down. The wind was blowing his hair softly across his face as he gazed up at the stars, something you frequently did together.

Coincidentally, it was during those times that the topic of immortality would come up. The stars made Scaramouche sad when he peered up at them. Despite not believing in their genuine existence, he would hate to look up one day and find you among them. Far away from him. Mortality permanently holding you in its grasp.

You silently walked outside to where he was lying down, careful not to disturb him. You laid down next to him, gently taking his hand in yours. His fingers interlocked themselves with yours, but he didn’t bother to turn and look at you, already knowing who it was. When you looked to him, however, his eyes were glistening with small tears, the stars reflecting in them. He looked ethereal, but you hated how sad he looked — eyebrows furrowed, a frown pulling his lips downward.

“I’m not ready for you to leave,” he whispered painfully, voice cracking a bit as his eyes finally met yours.

You send him a fond smile, eyebrows turning upwards, “I’m not leaving anytime soon. You don’t have to worry.”

“But you will,” he started, a hint of anger laced his voice, directed at those who dared to take away the one thing he loved, “You’ll leave eventually. Just like everyone I’ve ever known. It’s only a matter of time.”

You sat up slowly, reaching into the pocket of your pants and grabbing something out. A flash of metal caught Scaramouche’s eye. He sat up instantly, recognizing what the mysterious object was.

It was your vision. The bright shining blue light it normally had was entirely gone, drained of power. Wordlessly, you handed it to him. He grabbed it, but looked up into your eyes with confusion. When he did, he finally noticed the exhaustion and dried tears all over your face.

“What is this?” He angrily inspected the grayed vision in his hands, “What happened to you? If someone hurt you, I swear to you, I’m going to kill them.”

“No!” you quickly exclaimed, interrupting his oncoming burst of anger, “No one hurt me. I did this myself.”

“Start explaining,” he demanded. Although he looked angry, you could see the worry and fear in his eyes.

“I’m tired of these conversations,” you hesitantly started, averting your eyes to a tree in the distance. You could feel your own sad frown pulling at your lips as you fidgeted with the vision he had returned to you. Inhaling, you continued, “If I’m being honest, I’m not okay with leaving you either. It tears me apart to see you like this, Scaramouche. It sounds selfish, but I…I don’t want to think of your life without me. Not when it’s already hurting you this much and I’m not even dead yet.”

You paused to wipe the tears that had unknowingly began to fall from your eyes. Gesturing to the vision, you explained, “The trip I went on wasn’t for work, and I’m sorry for lying to you about it. It was to make an exchange. By trading this with Celestia, I’m no longer mortal.”

Scaramouche’s eyes flickered back and forth between yours and the lifeless vision rested in your hands. A mix of anger, sadness, and relief hit him all at once. Years of memories flashed in his head from all the mistreatment in Inazuma, the Harbingers, and to his newfound life in Sumeru. But most importantly, he saw you and all the ways you’ve loved him ever since you found each other. His voice wobbled a bit, dancing between the lines of neutrality and sadness, “Why would you do that for me?”

You tossed the vision to the side and held his hand again, “My vision may have meant a lot to me, but nothing will ever mean as much to me as you do. I would trade everything I’ve ever owned to be with you forever if that’s how it had to be.”

The two of you laid back down together against the cool grass, staring back up at the stars. This time, however, his arms embraced you tightly. The stars seemed to shine a little more brightly, a little more beautifully. There was no chance for them to take you away from him anymore, and Scaramouche was forever grateful for that.

Dainsleif:

The burden of immortality sat heavily on Dainsleif’s shoulders. It was a curse he bore, but not one he would wish onto anyone else. It was painful, unkind, and often struck those who deserved it the least.

When you had found him, you were not originally aware of the fact that he had been among those who were affected by it. You knew he originated from Khaenri’ah, but you supposed he was like your old friend Kaeya, who was also from there, but was not a bearer of the curse.

Admittedly, it was difficult to be in relationship with Dainsleif at times because of it. He trusted you wholeheartedly, but there was always this lingering sense of doom in his eyes. There were times when he would get close with you, share his past and his deepest desires, but then he would pull away. It was a constant game of back and forth with him.

You were aware it was because he was scared, terrified even. Dainsleif had lived a long life of loss and sadness. He had failed in his duties as the Twilight Sword and, because of that, he was forced to witness the death and destruction of everyone and everything he loved around him. Anyone he had ever loved he had lost, and he couldn’t stand to watch that happen to you too.

You couldn’t bear it equally as much. Dainsleif was the best person to ever have come into your life. Someone you knew could never hurt you. Someone who showed you more love than anyone else ever had. Your love for each other was like no other. The only thing that could truly separate you from him would be death, and he would love you until that day came.

As painfully beautiful as that was, it saddened you to a degree that nothing else could. You did not want to lose him as much as he did not want to lose you. And so, you decided to lessen his punishment. Immortality was supposed to curse him with loneliness and suffering, but that loneliness wouldn’t exist if you were by his side for the rest of time.

You left as soon as possible, vision stored away in your satchel and a notebook in hand. It was your notebook that held your recipes. As a chef, there were all sorts of ingredients across Teyvat that you had to often import or travel to obtain. It was the perfect excuse to leave without him raising suspicion. Because, although Dainlsleif detested the Gods and Celestia, he would never let you do what you were about to do. Not for him, and not for anyone else. Not even for yourself.

It took you about a week to return.

Dainsleif noticed instantly something was different when you returned. It was a little past midnight. He was sitting at the table of your home, window open to his left to let the cool breeze sift through the house. He had been scribbling away at a map when the door walked open, and in walked you.

There were dark circles around your eyes, a conflicting look swirling within them. Part of you looked relieved, while the other part looked saddened. His eyebrows furrowed as you stumbled in through the doorway, whispering a small greeting to him. Quickly, he was by your side and hugging you dearly.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly, voice just barely above a whisper. You leaned against him, head tucked gently into his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his abdomen. Silently, you nodded.

Dainsleif carefully brought you to the couch in the living room, sitting you down gently and setting your belongings on the small table in front of you. The breeze from the window drafted through again, strong enough to make you shiver. In an instant, Dainsleif was up and moving to shut it quickly so you could be warm and comfortable.

“Something’s wrong,” he started, hand moving to cup your face as you gazed into his eyes tiredly, “I know you aren’t just tired. So please, tell me what happened on your trip.”

You crumbled in an instant, unable to lie to his face, “I traded my vision. I’m sorry, I wasn’t actually going to get ingredients.”

Confusion settled even deeper into his blood as he stared at you, unable to comprehend what you were talking about, “Trade your vision for…what? Why would you need to trade your…oh.”

When he realized, you nodded carefully. The silence that followed suit scared you. You often had a hard time reading him, especially now.

His next reaction shocked you, however. Tiny traces of tears sprung to his eyes, threatening to pour over at any second. Your eyebrows furrowed, but before you could say anything, Dainsleif quickly leaned in and kissed you. Your eyes closed and you returned it, feeling the sadness, desperation, and love behind it. When he pulled away, you could see two or three tears had fallen from his eyes.

Gently, you wiped them away and hugged him tightly. He held you tightly in return, and silently, you both laid back against the couch. Exhaustion hit the two of you at once, knocking you out as you slept within each other’s arms. You had been exhausted from your trip and all the emotions you had felt from it. As for Dainsleif, his exhaustion from being cursed had eased up a bit on him. It him all at once, the realization and the lack of loneliness or worries he would have to deal with from now on. There was no more till death due you part, because finally, Dainsleif had you for forever and you had him.

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igotanidea · 1 year

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The spell: Dean Winchester x reader

„Sam? This better be important ‘cause I’m kinda in the middle of something.”

“I’m using the emergency line, right?”

“Last time Dean used the emergency line it was about lack of pie. I swear he’s older but acts like a complete child sometimes.” Y/N shook her head not that Sam could see that through the phone.

“Yeah.” He agreed “But I would never….”

“Remember the time when you lost a shoe?”

“That was one time Y/N! And it was…. Under different circumstances…..”

“Oh, relax, I’m just teasing. But seriously, go on and tell me what is this about, cause I really am busy.“

“It actually is about Dean…”

“Oh, I had a feeling this day would be intense. What do we deal with? Demon? Jinn? Shapeshifter? Oh, please tell me it’s shapeshifter, those are my favorites.

“A witch, in fact.”

“Fine by me.” Y/N shrugged, unaware that Sam’s words has a second meaning. Only the prolonging silence on the other side made her a bit suspicious “Sam? You’re still there?”

“Yes.”

“So? Where do we meet? At the motel or at the crime scene?”

“Stop talking like a CSI!”

“I am CSI, Sam! Now again, where do we meet?”

“At the motel. But please…..”

She did not let him finish, since Sam was making her impatient by straining information. So she had no idea what was coming for her.

***

“Guys?” Y/n entered the motel room without knocking and two pair of eyes landed on her figure. Sam was his usual self, calm and collected, sitting by the desk, working. But Dean…. Dean was distracted, in the lack of better word. Pacing around like he was suffering from the sudden fit of anxiety. “What the…..?”

“ Should have listened to me….” Sam muttered, while his older brother took one stride towards her and wrapped his arm around her without any word.

“Um… good to see you too, Dean, but what’s with the PDA?”

“Can I just hold you?” he mumbled, begin so out of character

“Yeah… I mean, sure” she frowned, hugging him back. This was unexpected, to say the least. They have been together for a couple of months now, but the older Winchester were mostly keeping his laid back attitude in the relationship. “But…..” she hesitated, but stopped the question. This was actually pretty nice. Having Dean in her embrace like this, being the one he was turning to. It made her heart stutter a bit.

“But what?” he asked pulling away

“You know what, nevermind” she smiled brightly brushing hair from his face “if you need me….”

“I always need you.” he burst without thinking

“ Oh….” She felt her heart skip a bit. That was definitely new and she wasn’t sure whether she should feel the warmth and happiness or rather get worried about his current state. “Um…that’s nice, Dean.” She hugged him again, at the same time peeking over Dean’s arm, mouthing words at Sam asking for explanation. “How about you sit here for a moment, Dean, huh? I just gotta talk to your brother, who surely owns me some explanation.”

“I don’t want to let go of you…..” Dean pouted

��I’m not going anywhere, I swear” she smiled and pushed him onto the chair next to Sam and talking the third left spot. Dean immediately leaned towards her and grabbed her hand, caressing it gently.

“Y/N…..” he turned towards her, begging for attention, even though she was doing nothing more than giving it to him

“Yes, Deanie?” her eyes focused on her boyfriend without any sign of annoyance.

“Come sit on my lap.”

“What?” now she was blushing

“Come on…” Dean patted his thigh but seeing her becoming reluctant, just reached for her, grabbed her waist and put her where he needed her, hugging her to his chest from behind.

“Um…’ she muttered, distracted by his hands. He was doing nothing, just holding her and she was already melting. This was dangerous.

“do you want me to leave you two alone?” Sam laughed, but once he met with Y/n’s murderous gaze covered it by coughing

“Talk!” she shout at him “What happened?”

“You remember when I mentioned the witch?” Sam started

“Yes, of course. Now please, cut to the chase! Not that I’m complaining, but I’d rather have the real Dean back. I want my bickering, teasing and sensitive on the inside boy.” Said boy were currently planting kisses on her neck. “Oh, god, I just can’t ….” She muttered, standing up from Dean’s lap immediately meeting with his sad eyes and mouth curved down. “I’ll be right back to you, sweetie, all right?” she smiled caressing his cheek and facepalming herself on the inside for calling him like that. What the heck was going on. Was it like the “it’s Tuesday again” situation? Did she wake up in alternative reality “Just stay here for a moment. And you.” she turned to Sam “you’re coming with me.”

***

“The charm?” fifteen minutes later Y/N and Sam were sitting in the booth in a crappy diner. The girl being herself ordered herself some pancakes, leaving the younger Winchester to do the talking “Guess I should have connected the dots… what? why are you looking at me like that?” she swallowed a particularly big piece of her dish and frowned

“You and Dean are so similar when it comes to your favorite food.” Sam shook his head and smiled lightly

“I’m hungry! I’ve been on the field for hours and didn’t have breakfast so cut me some slack! Now back to the witch. What do we do to break the spell? Burn her? Capture her? Slave her?”

“We are not doing anything. I’ve already got her location and ….”

“Sam…” Y/N sighed, putting her fork down and looking him straight into the eyes “you know the rules. You know I can’t let you go alone.”

“I’m not asking.”

“I’m not answering .”

“You either leave me alone or Dean. Given his current love-sick puppy state I think it’s pretty clear who need the supervision.”

“Sam…..” her tone became a bit warning

“Come on, Y/N, you know I’m right. It’s an open and close case. No trouble I promise.”

“You always say that….” She muttered “Fine. You really left me no other options, did you?”

“Look on the bright side.” Sam flashed a smile “you get to spend some quality time with you boyfriend. Maybe even get a little action….”

“Shut up Winchester!”

***

“I’m back Dea…. Woah!” she barely get the chance to step through the door when Dean swept her off her feet and spun In the air. “Put me down! Put me down!”

“Oh I may put you down, but I’m not letting you get away, again.”

“Oh please…” she scoffed, but not honestly not being opposed to his actions and switching rather towards teasing him about it “I was gone for like fifteen minutes, surely you did not miss me that….”

She was cut off by his lips on hers. Damn, he was such a good kisser. And because of that spell also needy and maybe a bit desperate. Holy shit… Sam was right, it has been a while since….

“How’s that for not missing?” he asked cupping her cheek and brushing thumb over it. Oh, how she wanted to give in, let him pull her closer… Sad thing, she could not. It was like she told Sam in that diner- she was not opposed to clingy Dean, searching for affection, but this was not him. She needed the assurance that all of his actions were a conscious choice not the side effect of some witchcraft.

“How about we slow down a bit, huh?” she pulled away, or rather tried to pull away, since his large hands stopped her from doing so.

“But I need you…” he whined

“I know honey, but ….”

“What? Why are you always turning away from me?”

“I’m not turning away, love.”

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too, Dean and that is why I think you need some rest. Don’t you wanna lay down for just a bit?”

“As long as you stay with me.”

“I will. I promise. Now come on.” She grabbed his hand and lead him towards the motel bed. It was far from comfortable, but both Winchesters and Y/N were already used to that. The girl slowly pushed Dean onto the cushions and reached for the blanket to cover him, but he was way faster. When she moved towards the edge of the bed he grabbed her wrist and pulled her flush onto his chest, sneaking one hand under her shirt, tracing patterns on her bare skin. It was nice. It was really really nice, but she could smell his neediness with every inhale and exhale he was taking. So she moved a bit, just to look into his glistening eyes.

“What do you need, Dean? Tell me.”

“I just want to feel you next to me.”

“I think we got that covered “ she grinned “you practically got me caged here.”

“I’m sorry” he looked down, but she grabbed his chin and met his eyes again

“Stop it, Dean Winchester. You hear me, stop it. If I wanted out, you would never be able to stop me, but I chose to be here. So go on. Talk.”

“Can you just hold me?”

“Sure my pretty boy. Come here.” She laid on her back motioning for him to snuggle into her arms and put his head on her belly, arms locked around her waist. “It’s gonna be all right” she cooed running her fingers through his hair “We’re gonna get you out of this mess. You are not alone, baby.”

***

Two hours later, she found out she fell asleep. The sun was slowly setting over the horizon and instinctively she turned onto the other side, hand searching for Dean but he was not there and her heart fluttered.

“Dean?” she mumbled getting up, rubbing her eyes and walking outside. He was standing by the railing, eyes fixed on the space “Hi….” She whispered slowly approaching him and wrapping arms around his waist, pulling herself closer.

“Hi baby.” He answered closing his eyes.

“Are you… back?”

“Guess Sam did some good work. And by himself. At this point I feel expendable. You two clearly can handle all this shit by yourself. “

“You idiot.” She smacked the back of his head in the lightest hit there ever was “Expendable. You are truly unbelievable. How much do you remember?” her voice trembled a bit.

“All of it.”

“Oh.” She gasped but then smiled “so you do remember the affectionate attitude?”

“Yes.”

“And how needy and whiny you were?”

“Yes.”

“And?” she tilted head trying to get any reaction out of him which clearly was going to be a little challenge. “Was it …. Was It just the spell.”

“No.”

“God, don’t piss me off, Dean.”

“It was all real, all right? Whatever charm this was it made me act the way I felt. Cause I do need you. And I should have told you that sooner.” He turned towards her and reached for her hand “you are important to me. Damn, Y/n, you know I love you, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, Dean.” She assured “you speak through your actions. And frankly ,the way you behaved was not about me. It was all about you.”

“How so?”

“You needed love. Affection. Some softness. Maybe it was all because of the fact you suppress all those needs? Cause you are reluctant to admit you have them? Hm?”

“I;m not even going to answer that.” He mumbled

“Dean, come on. We’re all humans… and yes, I believe that even despite you being a vessel for an angel, you are still human. It’s normal to need someone to hold you and love you. And you got me, so promise me, you won’t hide from me.”

“You want me to be open and honest?” he smirked

“Is that too much to ask for?”

“Yeah. Way, way too much. But I’ll try.”

“I can work with that.”

“Good. Now shut up and kiss me.”

“I thought the effects of the spell were over….” She tapped her chin in reverie

“Guess I do have to take action by myself” Dean mumbled leaning forward and capturing her lips in sweet, gentle, delicate kiss. It was not needy, not anymore. It was a promise from him to try and do better in a relationship. “Shall we take that inside?”

“You had to kill the moment” she rolled her eyes at him “Welcome back, you prick.”

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notsosweetchan · 2 months

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˚ʚ♡ɞ Under The Table ˚ʚ♡ɞ

Warning: Fingering in public

Paring: | Seungmin x Reader|

Y/N blushed heavily and bit her bottom lip, suppressing the moans that threatened to escape. Her heart raced as she felt Seungmin's finger teasingly trace circles around her entrance. She glanced up at him, their eyes meeting across the table where they shared a knowing look. She could feel her pussy dripping, eager for more of his touch.

The subtle movements of his finger sent waves of pleasure through her body, making it hard to concentrate on anything but the sensations he was causing.

The warmth between her legs tingled as he pushed forward slightly, pressing against the entrance but not entering yet. She tried to stay quiet while they were still in public, but a soft gasp escaped her lips as his finger brushed against an especially sensitive spot.

The other couples at the table were deep in conversation, oblivious to what was happening underneath. They chatted about work and weekend plans while enjoying their delicious meal, completely unaware that something much more intimate was happening beneath the tablecloth. Y/N shifted slightly in her seat, grinding her hips against Seungmin's touch unconsciously.

The soft fabric of her dress rubbed against her swollen pussy lips with each movement, adding to the pleasure she could feel building inside her. She couldn't help but squirm a little in anticipation as he continued to tease her, his other hand resting on top of hers on the table for support.

The waiter came by to refill their water glasses, causing them both to snap out of their lustful haze briefly before diving back into each other under the table once again.

Y/N let out a small whimper as Seungmin finally pushed past her resistance and entered one finger inside her tight heat. She gasped at the sudden intrusion but quickly regained her composure, taking deep breaths to steady herself.

He continued to stimulate her inner walls with slow, delicious strokes, drawing out the moment as he knew she was close to the edge of ecstasy. Her nails dug into the tablecloth, her knuckles turning white with the effort it took not to moan out loud.

Seungmin leaned in as if to whisper in her ear, his voice low and husky, "You're so wet, baby. I can feel how much you want it.”

His words sent shivers down her spine, and she bit her bottom lip even harder to stifle a moan. "I'm going to make you cum right here at this table, and you're not allowed to make a sound.”

His fingers picked up the pace, curling inside her in just the right way as he began to rub her G-spot relentlessly. Her hips bucked against his hand, desperate for more, but all she could do was squeeze her thighs together tighter and try to keep the moans of pleasure at bay. The tension coiled in her belly, tightening with each sensual stroke he delivered. She was so close... so close...

As the waiter returned with their main courses, Y/N felt herself teetering on the edge of release. Seungmin slowed down momentarily, causing her to whimper in protest. He flashed her a wicked grin before resuming his torturous pace once again as soon as the waiter left. Her orgasm was building rapidly now. “Hey Y/N are you ok

You look a bit flushed,” Jiho, her best friend, asked across the table, oblivious to what was happening inches away from her.

Y/N shot her a panicked glance, praying that she hadn't given them away. "I'm j-just... I'm just...," she panted, trying to think of an excuse for her flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. "I... um... I'm just a bit warm that's all." She took a sip of her water, hoping the cool liquid would help mask her flushed complexion.

Seungmin smirked at Y/N's discomfort but didn't relent in his ministrations. He was enjoying this delicious game of cat and mouse they were playing far too much to stop now.

Her hips rocked with each of his delicious thrusts, her body screaming for more, desperate to be filled and satisfied, but she couldn't let herself go. Not here, not in front of their friends. Tears of frustration threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes as she tried to contain the moans that threatened to escape her parted lips.

"Your food looks good," Seungmin purred in her ear, all innocence as he twisted his finger inside her, causing her to moan out a strangled breath. "You should eat."

Y/N picked up her fork with shaking hands and speared a piece of pasta, praying the motion would give her something else to focus on as Seungmin continued his merciless assault on her senses. The simple act of chewing was torture itself, each bite sending vibrations through her entire body that only served to heighten her arousal.

Jiho blabbed on about some work drama she'd had been dealing with earlier in the week, but Y/N's mind was too clouded with lust to even register the words coming out ofher friend's mouth. All she could think about was the delicious agony between her legs, the pressure building with each passing second.

He continue to finger worked her pussy relentlessly, alternating between long, slow strokes and quick, shallow thrusts that teased her bundle of nerves mercilessly. Y/N's breathing hitched as she felt the familiar tightness coil in her lower stomach, signaling her impending climax. She grabbed onto her napkin, twisting it into a tight ball in an effort to stifle any sounds she might make.

Finally, unable to take it anymore, Y/N dropped her fork with a clatter and stabbed at her food, shoving a large bite into her mouth to disguise the moans she couldn't hold back any longer.

The muffled noises of ecstasy vibrated through the table as waves upon waves of pleasure coursed through her body. Her eyes squeezed shut as she rode out the orgasmic wave, Seungmin's finger still working magic inside of her until the last possible moment before removing himself.

Breathing heavily, Y/N dared a everyone was too engrossed in their own conversations to notice her silent release. Seungmin, on the other hand, smiled smugly as he casually cut into his steak.

Finally, Y/N managed to catch her breath, "You... you ass," she said between gasps, glaring at him playfully.

Seungmin just grinned back at her, "Oh, but you loved every minute of it," he purred, wiping his mouth daintily with his napkin before leaning in to whisper in her ear once more, "And this is only the beginning. Just wait until we get home."

#stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids imagine #stray kids smut #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz smut #skz seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin imagines #stray kids seungmin #seungmin imagine #seungmin #seungmin smut

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caxde · 3 months

Text

pretty sounds | steve harrington x reader

summary you and Steve share an apartment while you're both away in Uni, after he had cought you touching yourself, he needs more of you (2.8k)

warnings fem!reader, 18+ mdni this is just smut guys i'm sorry. masturbation (f+m) oral sex (m+f) penetration (p in v) english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!

there's a part 1, but it's not needed! this is basically just porn

“Mornin” His raspy morning voice woke you up, your eyes still half closed as you stumbled to the kitchen.

“Hi.” You had trouble speaking, the sight of him in the early orange light taking your breath away.

His basketball shorts hung low on his waist, you were certain he wasn’t wearing anything else, the beginning of his hip bones showing as he settled himself against the kitchen counter, giving you a warm smile, water drops on his forehead, his hair still wet from the shower that had woken you up.

His arms reached out to you, a mug of coffee in his hand for you, you nodded as you took it, an implied thank you that he smiled at.

Steve was feeling a bit more confident than he did the day before. Hearing you scream his name as you were touching yourself, unaware that he could hear you crystal clear. and loud.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t bother to put a shirt on, or maybe he just wanted to see how you reacted.

He chuckled to himself when he saw the way you flustered as you came into the kitchen, with your oversized faded shirt that you always wore to bed, and your hair a wild mess that he wanted to bury his hands in.

“Didn’t hear you coming last night.” You said as soon as you took your first sip of coffee, looking up at him, a cocky smile appearing on his face as he looked back at you.

“Yeah, I um…” His hand was massaging the back of his neck, a nervous tick of him you knew way too well. “I got caught up in the library. You had already showered I think.”

“Oh, yeah…” You were a bit embarrassed, thought it always seemed to happen when you had fantasized about him the night before.

Something was different, but you weren’t sure what had happened.

“Do you got any lessons today?” He asked, taking a step closer to you, your eyes not leaving his. Even if the temptation of not only looking but thristlin all over his body was a breath away.

“M’yeah.” Your words were still sticking together, still not awake, not even sure if this was all a weird dream. “Need to wake up first.” You added as you took another sip of the warm drink he had made for you.

“You’re really pretty in the morning, honey.” honey. that was new.

You weren’t sure if it was the fact that he had called you pretty, or honey, but you were turnin redded by the second. But if you were honest, it was the way his thumb had caressed your cheek and your lip briefly. Maybe it was the small moment his eyes had left your so they could look at your lips.

He left, back to his room.

You stood there for a minute longer after your cup was empty.

You left three knocks on his door, grabbing your towel tightly.

“Yeah?!” His voice had a tone of urgency in it, a quickness you weren’t used to.

“Um, I’m heading to the shower now, if you need the bathroom, go.” You talked to the wooden door, a bit closer than it was probably necessary, but before you could turn your back, it opened, a messy haired Steve appearing inches away from you, his eyes seemed softer lately, especially when they looked at you.

“I was thinking of taking one.” He gave you an upside down smile, and a weird look that you didn’t understand. His eyes looked darker, no longer like honey, but more like caramel.

“Oh.” You sounded surprised, and if your voice wasn’t enough, your widened eyes that had been left open gave you away. It was working, Steve thought.

“What?” His cheery tone made your eyebrows unforrow for a moment, as his arms crossed in front of his chest, his forearm gracing your skin for a brief second.

“Nothing, just… You never take night showers.” He chuckles as he hears you say it, nodding along to your words.

“We could share.” He adds, in a successful attempt to make you blush. Your skin filling up with goosebumps as those words reach your ears.

“Funny.” Your voice comes out drier that you intended it to, turning away from him, embarrassment already present on your body.

He noticed it immediately. The way you had clenched your jaw, the vein of your neck briefly appearing, your lips pursed together before you nodded. He felt guilty, he had been too cocky when all he was is a big idiot for you.

His hand grabbed yours as you were turning away, not too far away from him yet, turning your body so you’d face him, and he let his fingers linger on your wrist, a sorry look on his eyes.

“What?” He whispered, the softness of his voice washing the childish tantrum out of you.

“Nothing.” You whispered back, but the way his head hangs low, falling to his left side as he gave you that i don’t buy it look, made you realise with no words needed that he required a deeper explanation. “Just, why would you say something like that?”

Steve isn’t sure what he could do now, or what he should do.

He could tell you the plain truth, he heard you last night and he wants to be the reason why you scream in such a beautiful way.

He could stay quiet, and just say that he was kidding and that he’s sorry.

Or he could just kiss you.

That last thought invades his mind, how would you feel? How would your lips feel against his? Would you kiss him back?

Maybe that’s why, in that daze that we has in, your eyes looking up at him, with the smallest begging and the way your lips were parted, that the hand that wasn’t on your wrist finds its way to the back of your neck, and he takes a step closer.

You can’t quite believe it’s happening, not really.

Time seems to slow down. The way his head moves closer to you, your heart beating faster as you see him move, his muscles flexing as he does so, your skin getting warmer as your breathing becomes faster, your heartbeat louder. He stops for a second, his nose touching yours, as you enjoy the warmth that his breath leaves on your lips, the way it mixes with yours. Before you could even beg him to, he kisses you.

As soon as his lips grace yours and you enjoy the softness of them, the hand that was holding your wrist finds its way to the small of your back, burying its fingers there. Soft touches combined with the desperate need you both seemed to share.

Your hand moved to his jaw in a delicate way, too scared that if you moved too fast this might disappear, that it might not be real anymore.

You started to play with his hair, as he left deeper, needier kisses on your lips A moan escaping his, the way he sounded and most of all, you being the reason for it, it made your whole skin flourish, the electricity growing stronger each second.

He lets go of your wrist, both hands now hugging your waist, pulling you closely until your hips meet, his touch becoming a desperate one. Walking slowly back into his room, where the soft study light and the air filled with his smell only made your skin now with goosebumps, every inch were his hands touched your skin now in fire.

The heels of your feet touched the end of his bed, the coldness and the noise it made separating your lips from his. The deepest cheesiest smile on both of your faces, your foreheads still together.

Before you muttered a word, his fingers slipped between your skin and the sides of your thong, teasing you with the way he pulled on it. In a similar way, in your dazed state you started to play with the neck of his shirt. Your nose touching his, still not sure if this was real.

“That's why” Steve sighted with unfinished pleasure, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I really like you, Steve.” You breathed out, a confession you weren’t conscious you were making.

“I know.” He answered, finally making eye contact with you, your eyes shining brighter as his were full of desire. “I kinnda heard you, in the shower.” He added suggestively, teasing you as he giggled.

Your face became various tones of pink, as embarrassment found its way to you. You tried burying your head behind your hands, but he was quicker, instead he pushed his chest so your head would hit it, wrapping his arms around you.

“Oh no.” You chuckled as you couldn’t believe it.

“I’ve liked you since before that though.” He whispered into your ear, kissing your temple before he continued talking. “I just wanted to be the one touching you.” His breath brushing your ear, he smelt of the candles you had picked when you first moved in, vanilla and cinnamon. “Especially if you're screaming my name.”

“Do you still..?” He laughed, an angelic sound pressed to your ear.

He started to plant kisses along your jawline in response. A desperate whimper escaped your lips as soon as you felt his, needing more of him. All of him.

Your hands started to mess with his hair, pulling him in deeper, the kisses he left wetter, with a few bites that made you smile with pleasure when you felt them.

You grabbed the back of his neck, guiding him back to your lips, wanting to feel him again, needing to taste him once more. Before you were aware of it, your hands were messing with his shorts wristband, asking for permission that you already had. You smiled in between kisses when you felt his skin immediately, no underwear on.

You didn’t need to see him to know he was big, bigger than you expected. You felt a smirk on his lips as he pulled away for a second.

“That feels…” He was out of breath, his words knotted on his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more.

“Good?” You ask, as your hand slips back in, wrapping on his cock, his nails digging on your skin.

“Yes.” He moaned as his head flew back, your lips starting a trail of kisses that began on the back of his ear and finished on his stomach. He shuddered with each one, and seeing you on your knees just made him moan louder. “Fuck me”

“I’m trying.” You answered, a stupid laugh shared between the both of you, that stopped abruptly as soon as you started kissing him through the thin fabric.

His hands buried in your hair, caressing you as he guided you, begging you with his touch, a silent way of saying please eat me.

So you did, you pulled the shorts down, and started licking his tip, licking your lips seeing him from that point of view. Steve, with a crossed look on his eyes, already gone, already imagining how you’ll feel.

You opened your mouth wide, starting to fill your mouth with him, feeling him twitch as you did so. He needed you more and more as each time his cock entered and exited your mouth made you hungrier for him.

“Shit, honey.” He mumbled out, as he had trouble staying on his knees, the view that he had a perfect one. “You’re really fuckin good at that.”

His praise made the exact effect you knew it would have. Made you swallow him whole, feeling his tip on the back of his throat, as his grip became tighter around your hair.

He used it to pull you up, kissing you while he tasted a bit of him on your lips. With one swift movement your shirt ended on the floor, with another one, your thong joined it. He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you in a tight hug, as he sat you down carefully on the verge of his bed. He started kissing all of your body. He stopped once he arrived on your boobs, licking and nibbling at your nipples, leaving small love bites under one of them, as you exhaled in short breath in response. A soft moaning provocated by him kissing down your stomach. The coldness of his breath shocked you as he came close to your cunt, the wetness of it becoming cold when his breath reached it, before starting to kiss right above it, around it.

“Steve.” You whimpered, looking down at him, biting your lips as he looked up at you, a smile dedicated to you.

“You look so angelic.” He answered. “I wonder if you’ll sound it too.” He teased, right before his lips started to eat you out.

A sharp moan escaped your lips, as the warmth of his mouth invaded you, he knew exactly how to move your tongue, your hips already moving as he fucked you with his tongue. Your mouth was becoming dry, your lips parted as you couldn’t stop moaning, begging, or simply just whimpering with no sound. Your whole body felt on fire, starting with the way Steve made you feel, reaching to your lips where you wanted to be touched.

“Love…” You managed to whisper, smiling when you saw the way he did once he heard you. “I need you.” You cried out, happily when you saw him climb on top of you, kissing you senseless as you could taste your sweetness on his lips.

“Where?” He groaned out, as his hand caressed your whole body, too busy kissing every inch of your skin he could.

“Everywhere.”

He took that as an invitation, you felt the way one of his fingers opened you up, slowly. You did the same with him. Your hand wrapped around his cock once again, you were going at the same pace, if he fingered you harder, or faster, you did the same.

Until you couldn’t take it anymore. You really needed him.

“I really need you, Stevie.” He nodded, and left one more kiss on your lips.

He grabbed you by the waist, pulling your body in the middle of the bed. He took his cock, his fingers brushing yours, as he searched for your wet entrance. The first thrust was always the best one.

His body relaxed instantly, and so did yours. You melted into one, a release was made, he was inside, and once he looked you in the eyes, a is this okay? that you answered with a sincere smile and a nod.

He went in again. And again. And again. Your legs parting with every movement, wrapping around his waist, his body sinking deeper into yours.

“You feel… fuck.” He wasn’t able to finish his sentence. Your waist pulling up with his latest thrust, he could tell his dick was exactly in the right place, your walls closing down on him.

Light touches traveled down his back, as your fingers searched where to grab him, needing him deeper, wanting him more than you ever had.

He understood.

He grabbed your leg, pulling it up so it would rest on his shoulder. A cocky smile escaped his lips as he saw you groan with pleasure when he hit deeper, and harder.

He didn’t stop, the noise his body left when it hit you was engraving itself on your brain. It wasn’t the only thing.

From now on, when you close your eyes you can see Steve like that, enamored by you, his eyes only shining for you, his pretty girl.

“Keep making that sound, please.” He begged, once he started to hear the way you were running out of breath, trying to say his name.

“Steve, Steve I’m…”

“I know, honey, me too.” He whimpered, as he continued.

You wanted him to finish inside.

So your legs wrapped tightly around him, your nails burying deep in his skin, begging for him to stay doing the exact same thing. He kissed you again, and again. His wet kisses on your skin only made you even more overstimulated.

“Honey I’m-” You shut him up with a kiss, your right hand pulling his hair closer to you.

“Come, inside. Please.” It was the begging that did it for him.

Or maybe it was seeing you, your skin fleshed in pretty tones of pink, hair messed up by him, begging for him, needing him that made him a goner. He pressed tightly his body against yours, and came, as you had been doing for a while now.

His weight over your becoming a warm blanket. You stayed like that for a second, him still inside of you, as you cuddled on top of his sheets.

And the same question on both of your heads.

What now?

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spider999sposts · 10 months

Text

Rapture — Miguel O'Hara

🕸synopsis: miguel's powers come with consequences, ones that only you can handle.

🕸warning: filthy smut. lots of biting, fangs and claws. I won't spoil more than this.

🕸tags: fem!reader × Miguel O'Hara

🕸authors note: not proof read. I wrote this at 5 am instead of going to bed.

Miguel's powers always freaked you out a little bit.

He was one of the most power—if not the most powerful of the other spidermen in the Spider-Soceity. The radioactive spider that bit him was not like the rest. Yes, he had the agility and strength of the rest, he had organic webs like some of his variants, but something you've always been curious about was his fangs and his claws.

There were jokes running around the HQ that he was bit by a radioactive cat instead, and at how animalistic he got when he was angry. And while that was true, there was a side to him no one knew about but you.

Once a month, the same occurance. You've gotten used to it, but the first time it happened, you never expected it to be this way.

You had went back to your universe earlier than usual, a little too tired to keep handling missions for the day. You had not taken a break in so long, so you thought it would be okay to log out for just a day. You sent Miguel an alert that you'll be out of the office for a day, but he did not reject nor did he accept. You weren't going to wait around so you decided against your better judgment and just went home.

The first thing you did was get into the bathtub. You needed to relax, you've been overworking yourself, fighting off anomalies in other universes, filling stacks of paper work, helping out with malfunctioning machines. You were doing so many jobs that you forgot to pass by the cafeteria sometimes. Even Miguel was telling you to not burn yourself out.

Unknown to you though, that as soon as you walked into your bathroom, your gizmo went off.

Alot.

A flood of calls and alerts and notifications. Miguel was trying to get ahold of you in any way he could. You were unaware of it, but back at HQ, stuff was getting hectic.

And not in the regular sense.

"Uh, boss, your heart rate.."

"¡Chingado!" He gripped the desk, his fangs were protruding. There was nothing that stupid vile of the Rapture drug could do now. "¿A dónde fuiste?"

[Fuck, where did you go?]

"Um, back home." LYLA mumbled, zapping infront of him. "Boss, maybe you should just—"

"Open a portal to universe 9897." He grumbled lowly. "Tell everyone I'm out of office for the day. For two days." LYLA just nodded, avoiding his gaze and opening a portal just as he demanded. It was better not to even tease him in this state.

Back in your bath, you were enjoying the relaxing music you'd put on, and taking in the smell of vanilla coming from the bath water.

Then you heard something crash into your window. Startled, you jump out of the water, the water splashed onto the ceramic as you scrambled to cover yourself with a towel. Once you had it wrapped tightly around you, you ran out, expecting some kind of villian to have broken into your home. Instead, the sight infront of you was not the one you expected.

Miguel had crashed into your balcony window, evident by the cracks and breaks on the glass. It seemed like he was launched queit powerfully into your universe by the portal, but still, it was odd how he did not compose himself like he usually did. He just let himself crash into your window. He'd let himself in as well, which was odd, since you had the balcony door locked after you'd used it to enter. What you couldn't see, were the large claw marks that slashed the lock and door handel from outside.

Moreover, Miguel -himself- was a strange sight. Chest heaving, yet he breathed slowly. His body trembled. His talons cut through the molecular fabric of his suit, and the way he held himself was odd. He stood up straight, stiff like a board. He did not speak, but you could hear a low, deep growling noise.

"Back so soon? Did something happen at—"

"Why aren't you picking up.."

You glanced at your gizmo. It was vibrating with notifications still, but now they're from LYLA. "I–I was taking a bath." You replied, hesitant. His mask evaporated from his head, revealing his face. "Did something happen, Miguel? Did you need my help? I'm sorry, I needed a break and I didn't—"

He raised his head, and that's when you realised something was very off.

Nothing was wrong with HQ. Something was wrong with Miguel.

The darkness of your living room contrasted with the light coming out from the yellow street lights. His eyes were a dark shade of crimson, a mix of emotions swirled through his irsis. Ones that you couldn't put your finger on. His eyebrows were knit tight, his jaw clenched shut.

"Miguel?"

He was holding himself together by a thread. He knew he wouldn't have to in a minute, but he did not want to scare you, or rather, he couldn't really move. The sight of you in that little towel, your wet hair. The droplets of water making their way from your neck to your collar bone, or that extremly, sweet and strong scent that he got a whiff off from the balcony. It drove him mad, it made his body heat up more than it already has.

But oh, when you moved towards him, he could feel his knees tremble. Everything in his body wanted him to pounce on you, to take you until you were a crying, trembling, babbling mess underneath his weight. His mind was telling him to be rational and wait. He did not want to force this upon you.

"Miguel, are you okay?" Your hand touched his forehead, and he let out a loud groan. That vanilla scent was making him high. He was getting drunk off of your scent alone. The buldge in his suit was becoming painfully sore. "You're burning up, you need to sit—"

"No." He rasped out, his hand wrapping tightly around your wrist. "I need you."

"Need me—"

"I need to touch you. Or I'm going to lose my mind."

"Has it been that stressful at work–"

"It is not work."

That's when you noticed it. Between his dark eyes, his long claws or his thick fangs. That look in his eyes was that of a man who was in a dire need of being touched. His life depended on it. You found yourself nodding, you've lost your words once you've taken a glimpse at his fangs. Miguel didn't wait, his arms hooked around your waist, as he pressed his entire body against yours and pushed you against your wall. You hit your head slightly, but before you could even register the pain, he was kissing you. He'd never kissed you like this before. His tounge forced itself into your mouth, and you let him, not fighting for dominance as you would sometimes. There was no point in trying to assert yourself over him in this state.

"Me estoy volviendo loco.." He mumbled, catching your lips in another kiss, breaking it just to bite on your lower lip. "We can't do this on the wall." He grumbled, sounding inconvenienced. He crashed his mouth to yours again as he led you to your bedroom door. He wrapped his hand around the handel and pushed, the door flew open, but the door handel came out in his hands. "My land lord is going to—" You were pushed onto your bed, and it was now that you realised your towel was no where to be found. You were bare naked underneath a feral, irritated, 6'9 man in heat. Miguel took off his gizmo, his entire suit dissipating as soon as he threw the watch away. It looked like that relieved his sorness a little. He got ontop of you, his hips locking yours in place, his arms on both sides of your head. His eyes glanced at your body for a moment, and an animalistic growl irrupted out of his chest. He leaned down to your neck, his fangs grazing against the space between your neck and shoulder blade. A loud squeal was the noise you made when you felt his teeth sink into the delicate skin, breaking it to the point where the puncture wounds drew blood. His tounge swished around the area multiple times, collecting any liquid that might've escaped.

"Miguel.." You whimpered. He bit into your neck, alot. Each time made you more and more lightheaded. His talons were grazing against your sides. His palms felt big, and rough against the soft skin of your tummy. He ran his hands across your sides before resting one of them on your chest, squeezing the plushy parts of you. He kneaded your breasts, before taking one of them into his mouth, sucking and lapping at your nipples like a starved animal. His eyes never left yours, that man got off just from the faces and sounds you made.

"You smell good." He moved his mouth to your other breast, "I showered with a vanilla scented—"

"That's not what I meant."

Your eyes widened at the sensation. His fingers circled your entrance. He collected the liquid on his fingers, and put them in his mouth. His eyes changed from crimson to bright red, and then back to crimson again. "You taste even better." He was getting impatient. Miguel threw your legs over her broad shoulders, and pulled you up, his nose poking against your clit. "Miguel, wait—" He was not listening. His mouth came in contact with your lips, his fangs poking your folds, his tounge licking and twirling at your bundle of nerves. "Wait, I'm going to—"

"Don't you dare." His voice was hoarse, he spoke against your thigh, sending vibrations up your legs. "Not until I say you can."

"But—"

"I've had enough of this." He doesn't let go of your legs. He falls next to you on the bed, pulling you on top of him. You're launched forward, putting both of your hands on his chest to stabilise yourself. "What...what do you want me to do?" Your head was spinning and you could not focus on anything but that burning sensation in the core of your stomach. A pit has started to form when he touched you, and now it was an ever-growing bomb about to explode.

Miguel's more playful nature shone through, as he said one word.

"Ride."

If your face was not flushed from earlier activities, it was now. Miguel always liked being the one on top, always. So why the change?

"I want to see your face." came his answer, as if he was reading your mind. "Get on with it." He slapped your thigh, and you nodded, lining yourself up with him.

It wasn't hard, he was rock solid. His tip was the same shade as his eyes.

You lowered yourself onto him, and the sound Miguel made made you unable to move. A growl so guttural, so loud, that you felt the entire bed shake. You started to move slowly, trying to push all the way in. "You're too big, Miguel, I—"

"—You'll take it, mi amor."

He pushed himself up, and you arched your back. Miguel held your arms up, surprised you so you wouldn't fall. Just the feeling of being filled up was enough to make you feel like you were going to burst. Your lips quivered as you tried saying his name. "What is it, preciosa?" He hummed, thrusting upwards. Your arms gave out, he held you. "Can't take it?"

"You—I can't—"

"You will." He kissed you, before laying back down. You realised he was being dead serious, and if you didn't do as he asked, he was going to make this so much harder on you.

You rocked your hips, and Miguel's hands instantly dug into your thighs, his talons pressing against you. The sting from their sharpness was not painful, if anything it made this all the more erotic. "Mi querida, estás haciendo el bien..." Miguel's eyes were fluttering, each time you moved, he would let out a moan or a groan, or a string of Spanish words you couldn't decipher. His hand found your rear, slapping it, telling you to go 'Faster'. You did as he asked.

That didn't seem enough.

He dropped you underneath him, holding both your hands above your head as his thrusts became faster than anything you've experienced before. He was going inhumanly fast. You grabbed onto his hair, tugging at his brown tufts. "Miguel, Please, I'm going to—" He nodded, slamming harder onto you, like your words only encouraged him. "Te aprietas, amor." He croaked out, "Quieres tener mis bebés, ¿no?"

"Miguel, I—" Your nails dug into his back, and your eyes shut tight as you reached the highest of highs.

Miguel didn't stop. He kept thrusting faster, until you felt a hot liquid fill you up. When he pulled out, you were already too exhausted to say anything, overstimulated in all the best ways.

When you looked at him, he looked a little more satisfied than he was when he came in.

Then you noticed it.

His tip was as red and angry as it was before you did any of this.

"Miguel—"

"You didn't think we were done, did you?" He purred, pulling you in again.

"But I'm—"

"I don't want to hear it."

It was going to be a long night for you.

----

What hour was it now? You could hear the birds chirping outside. You were on your fifth —No, sixth round now.

Miguel had gotten calmer after the third round, but he was just enjoying himself now. Your entire body had markings on it. There were more punctures from his fangs on your inner thigh and neck. Your nipples were sore from his sucking, and you could not for the life of you conjure up one word. He fucked all the letters out of you. You were a mumbling, tearful mess under this man. The pleasure he made you feel is one that no one could ever replicate. Not that Miguel will let them anyway.

His tounge sucked off your mixed liquids from your entrance, he'd filled you up a couple of times now. This was his method of 'cleaning' you up. But you knew him better, he loved the way you tasted.

"There.." He was out of breath, his stamina seemed to have worn out now. He moved next to you, pulling you into his chest. His hand ran through your hair, untangling it. "You took me so well." He hummed, wiping the few tear drops on your cheek. "I might've went a little overboard. Lo siento, gorgeous."

He did not sound sorry, he did not look sorry. He definitely did not regret any of this.

" 'tis okay." You replied weakly, "Are..you better?"

"Yes." He mumbled, "It's just this thing that comes to me. Rapture does nothing to stop it. I usually handel it myself, but now that I have you.." He chuckled darkly, "We can make this our little routine, every month."

"Mm'kay.."

He chuckled. "You'll get used to it." Miguel kissed the top of your head. "I'll get the bath ready for us."

"How sweet of you." You reply sarcastically.

"Watch the attitude," He grinned, that hungry look never really left his eyes. "Or I'm going to fuck that out of you."

991 notes · View notes

taexual · 6 months

Text

sleepwalking ● 8 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, angst, SLOW BURN

words: 10.3k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 8 ► let’s search the skies for a while, you and i

Stockholm replaced Copenhagen as the next location for Rated Riot’s European Tour, and it was Day 2 of the 14 days that Sid had given Jungkook to win this bet.

Because of that, Jungkook found himself living in a whirlpool of contradictions.

When you were in the room with him, the bet was all he could think about. It’s what held him back from approaching you, what stopped him from talking to you—out of paradoxical fear that this would count towards winning the bet, but not towards getting back together with you.

And when you weren’t in the room with him, all he could think about was that you weren’t in the room with him.

It was like this right now.

Earlier today, Yoongi had suggested that everyone met up for dinner at a high-class restaurant on the Strandvägen promenade after the show tonight. It made sense for everyone to agree – the band had a day off tomorrow and the restaurant was, supposedly, at a very beautiful spot – and Jungkook figured everyone would come.

Everyone did come. Except you.

And now thoughts of you made their way into his mind while his body winced at every slight noise, every minuscule movement that he noticed out of the corner of his eye, thinking—hoping—that it was you entering the room.

He could remember seeing you at the show—actually, it was difficult for him to see anyone but you when he was on stage; he’d just noticed how impossibly captivating your eyes looked with the stage lights reflected in them as you watched Rated Riot perform—but he wasn’t sure where you had gone afterwards.

He leaned over to Namjoon, who was sitting next to him at the restaurant table, and whispered awkwardly, “so, um, I thought everyone was coming to this dinner.”

Namjoon forced himself to look away from the streetlights reflected in the bay as the band and their team dined on the waterfront. He was still smiling, dazed by the overwhelming beauty of the place, as he murmured, “everyone did come.”

“No,” Jungkook objected before Namjoon could look away. “No, uh, see, our manager didn’t.”

“Oh, Luna said that she had something to do,” the producer replied. “But I think she mentioned joining us later.”

Jungkook knew immediately that that wouldn’t happen. In fact, as he scanned the table for your friends—Luna or Maggie—he glanced at Yoongi, who’d overheard the brief exchange, and shook his head when Jungkook’s gaze landed on him.

The whole band knew you well enough by now: if you weren’t here from the start, you weren’t coming. Luna probably only said that to Namjoon, because you asked her to.

Figuring there had to be a reason why you didn’t come – it was early morning back home, so it was possible that the label had contacted you, although Jungkook doubted it; they weren’t the type to call when things were going well – he looked over to his other side where Jude, Sid, and Minjun were sitting.

The three of them had already drunk a considerable amount of brännvin—the more it burned their throats, the more they seemed to enjoy it, the psychopaths—so they were probably unaware of how loud their conversation was.

He thought this was the perfect opportunity to slip out.

Granted, he probably shouldn’t have worried about his friends catching him leaving – they’d assume he was doing it to win the bet. And perhaps he should have deliberately tried to draw more attention to himself, to show off that he was going to win.

But he snuck out of the restaurant because of you, not because of the bet.

He didn’t think this through very well, however. A taxi van had dropped everyone off at the restaurant earlier, and the ride hadn’t taken very long. But, on foot, he was forced to walk for at least fifty minutes until he reached the parking lot where the tour buses were.

He tried to breathe in through his nose and out his mouth, so it wouldn’t look like he’d just run a marathon—although the muscles in his calves certainly felt like it.

He opened the door of the bus and peered inside. As suspected, you were half-lying in your bunk, laptop on your knees, airpods in your ears.

He entered and closed the door behind him with an accidental slam. There was no one else on the bus, but you didn’t lift your head; not even as he walked down the lane between the bunks, stopping in front of yours. Whatever you were listening to had to be loud enough to drown out the noise he was making.

“What are you doing?” he asked, reaching out to touch your shoulder. Your violent flinch at his touch made him flinch as he nearly tumbled backwards into Hoseok’s bunk.

“Jesus! Fuck!” you cried in horror, yanking the airpods out of your ears. “Stop doing that! What—why are you here?”

Straightening up, his eyes still wide, he replied, “I-I came here to ask you that!”

You kept your eyes on him, your heart still startled. “You came here from Strandvägen?”

“Yes.”

“On foot?”

“Yes.”

You knew Strandvägen was quite far from here, but you didn’t know Stockholm well enough to determine if his answer was plausible. However, his chest was rising and falling at an irregular pace, even though he was trying very hard to appear calm and relaxed, and that was a clear sign of physical exertion.

Still not blinking—as if he’d fade away if you closed your eyes even for a second—you furrowed your brows. “Why?”

“To ask you why you weren’t with us,” he replied simply.

Even more confused, you flipped your laptop screen shut and placed the device behind you.

Jungkook took this as an invitation to sit down next to you (really, he would have sat on the floor at this point, his legs were burning). You watched him and thought about what to ask next.

“You could have used the phone,” you said, figuring there was nothing you could ask him that would make you feel satisfied with his answer.

“I wanted to see your face,” he replied, “when you explained why you made me walk all the way over here.”

Despite the humorous twinkle in his eyes, you felt accused and defended, “I did not make you do anything.”

“You weren’t at the restaurant,” he argued. “So, yeah. You did.”

Averting your gaze, you ran your fingers over the frayed edges of the bedspread underneath the two of you.

“You shouldn’t have bothered coming here,” you began. He ignored the condescending tone in your voice, knowing it was there to make you feel better about having to explain something personal—something you’d undoubtedly categorised under ‘complaining’ and, therefore, would regret as soon as you talked about it. “I didn’t come with you guys, because I’m not really feeling up for socialising tonight. That’s all.”

He figured as much, but he knew that was not all. The pain in his legs eased a little, now that he could see that he hadn’t walked here for nothing.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you replied—a reflex—and Jungkook had to swallow his frustration. “Just not feeling my best. But I’m fine.”

You seemed unaware of your own contradictory words, but he chose not to point it out, saying instead, “Luna told Namjoon you were busy.”

“Yeah,” you replied with an uncomfortable twitch of your lip. “I asked her to. I didn’t want him to pity me. He’s very sensitive. Makes me feel bad if I upset him.”

Weirdly happy to hear that, Jungkook gave you a small, teasing smile. “But you don’t mind upsetting me?”

“You came all this way,” you replied, meeting his eye and smiling back—but your gaze remained vacant. “I couldn’t just lie to you. But, really, I’m fine. You should go back.”

Funny how you managed to assure him you weren’t lying and then proceeded to lie all in one breath.

“I’m not going back without you,” he said, his voice rougher. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said, and then again, “nothing. I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Jungkook knew you never admitted you were tired unless it was an excuse to hide what you were really feeling. And, frankly, he was starting to grow really annoyed. Not because you were refusing to tell him what was going on, but because you were treating him like a stranger.

He’d known you for seven years at this point. He could tell when you were pretending.

And yet, he hadn’t tried to pry the truth out of you in years—he couldn’t even remember what methods he used to use back when you were together.

And he suddenly felt guilty, too, because you spent so much time making sure everyone around you was doing well—citing your job as the reason—but he’d never really asked you about you in return.

“You can talk to me, you know,” he mumbled—the words he’d heard you say to him hundreds of times sounded awkward when he repeated them. “You always tell me that. It’s only fair that I reciprocate.”

“See, but I have to listen to you,” you replied softly, not meaning much by it. You just wanted to relieve him of the responsibility he seemed to think he had to sit here and listen to you. “It’s my duty to make sure you’re feeling your best.”

“Well, I’m making sure you’re feeling your best because that’s what I want to do,” he countered. “Not because I have to.”

Your eyes widened in realisation. “I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t care about you—”

“I get it,” he cut you off. “Talk to me.”

You sighed. There were only so many times you could slither out of answering questions without it becoming frustrating. In your personal experience, most people rarely persisted long enough for you to say “I’m fine” more than twice in a row.

Jungkook, however, sat on your bunk, stiff as a statue. Determined, clearly, to stay here until you talked to him.

You knew you’d have to. And, really, you weren’t purposefully hiding anything. You just didn’t think this was something that you should have bothered other people with. Especially Jungkook, who already had enough on his plate from performing almost every night.

“It’s nothing,” you said—always the introductory phrase in your sentences. “I was on the phone with my mum after the show—”

Jungkook reacted immediately, “isn’t it… very early over there?”

“It was a little after four in the morning when she called, yeah,” you said. “That’s why I knew right away that something bad had to have happened.”

He felt an unexpected pang in his chest. Forgetting the bet completely, he worried about something else for a second—another thing that your mum could have told you about him.

It wasn’t anything bad per se, he knew you wouldn’t be angry if you found out—he hoped not—but you might not like the fact that he wasn’t the one who told you.

But it couldn’t be. You appeared tired, not flabbergasted. You looked surprised to see him, but not enough to toss a flowerpot at his head.

He shuffled on the bunk, and tried to ask, “what, um—what happened?”

“It’s my brother,” you said with a sigh so deep, it drowned out the sound of Jungkook’s relieved exhale. “He got—he had gone on a trip with friends. But then he suddenly returned home with a broken leg. That bonehead thought it was just a sprain, even though he couldn’t walk at all, so he didn’t go to the hospital right away. And now the leg is, apparently, swollen and blue.”

Jungkook cringed at the image.

“Yeah,” you replied to his expression. “Anyway, mum needed his insurance information. It’s not even a big deal, just a broken bone, he’ll be fine. It’s just that my mum was crying like it was the end of the world, and now I’m—I don’t know. It’s nothing. You shouldn’t have come.”

So close. You’d almost finished the whole story without discrediting your feelings again.

Jungkook tried to – quickly – find a way to bring you back to your previous state of mind, “no—it’s—is he going to be okay?”

“Yeah, they were at the hospital when I talked to her,” you replied. “The x-ray showed a common fracture, so he won’t need any surgery or anything.”

“That’s good. And your mum?”

“Oh, she was still hysterical when she hung up,” you said. “She only ended the call, because the nurse came to talk to her.”

This was typical of your mum, who loved her children more than anything—and now that you were rarely home because of your job, she focused a lot of that love on her youngest son.

Naturally, a broken bone was a disaster for her.

And she probably didn’t even realise how much her crying would affect you. No one liked to see their mother cry—it was possibly one of the worst sights a child could endure—but you’d always been particularly sensitive to it.

You had once told him that your biggest dream was to never see your mum cry again. And you put in great effort to make this dream come true ever since your parents’ divorce was finalised and your mother began to get herself back together: shopping trips, beauty salons, and holidays in her dream countries.

Jungkook had never heard anyone’s biggest dream be about someone else. He didn’t think he even believed you at first, but several late-night phone calls when you were pacing in your room, nearly ripping your hair out, because your mum wasn’t feeling well again, convinced him that you’d meant it.

Really, he admired you for this. But now he was clenching his jaw, because he understood where your mum was coming from, but he still thought it was unfair to burden you with this when she knew that the sound of her tears would haunt your dreams.

“He’s her youngest kid,” Jungkook rationalised in spite of himself.

“He’s seventeen,” you retorted irritably. “Surely, that’s old enough to develop a brain.”

“How did he break his leg anyway?”

“He told mum he was climbing a tree, and a branch broke off, so he fell,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I don’t know who climbs trees when they’re travelling with friends, but I do know that he was drinking, and he didn’t want mum to know. As for the thing he fell from, I can’t say anything about that. But clearly, he hit his head pretty badly on his way down, too, the absolute idiot.”

Jungkook couldn’t help a small snicker here. “Did she believe him about the tree?”

“He’s done dumber things, so I wouldn’t blame her,” you said. “And she still told me not to yell at him.”

“I second that.”

You groaned, disagreeing with him just as you’d disagreed with your mum before, “he was stupid enough to think his obviously broken leg would heal on its’ own and did not go to the hospital, and now he’s made mum cry—”

“He made a dumb mistake,” Jungkook’s calm voice cut you off. “I’m sure he knows and blames himself for it.”

Thrown off by his composure, you mumbled, “he’d better.”

“I’m sorry,” he said—the word sudden, almost inappropriate.

You looked at him. “Hm? For what?”

“That your mum cried, and you were on your own in a foreign country.”

You swallowed, your gaze falling from his face to the bedspread underneath you.

You didn’t have to tell him much, he knew your family very well: with only one parent to look after two children, you had to step up and take on the role of the other parent to your little brother and be the helping hand to replace the missing partner for your mum once your parents divorced.

Even before they divorced, actually—but Jungkook didn’t know much about that. You never talked about your family before your parents finally split up, but he had an inkling that things had been bad for a while. You had hardly any contact with your father and that had to come from somewhere.

Being a younger brother himself, he’d always felt this misplaced guilt in situations like this. As if exploiting older children in favour of the younger ones was a common practice of all parents, and he, too, received preferential treatment compared to his older brother.

But he didn’t think he did. He knew he didn’t—his parents called him and his brother the same number of times every day, even if Jungkook couldn’t always pick up. They scolded and praised them equally.

And he knew it was different for you. Your mum called you and asked how you were and what was new with you, but the real reason for her call was your brother and the new problems he was causing.

Jungkook suspected that she did this because you’d never told her that you minded being a parent to a child you didn’t have. You never minded being needed, being everyone else’s shoulder to lean on.

You were you.

You had everything under control, always. You were the only clear head in your household of chaos. Sometimes, even in his household of chaos.

You had taught your mum years ago not to ask how you were feeling, because two things would happen if she did: either she would worry, or you’d have to lie to her so she wouldn’t. You didn’t want either.

So, she knew better than to ask you too much, and she thought—or rather, hoped—that if you really needed help, if you were really struggling, you’d be the one to call her.

At least that’s what you’d told her you’d do.

The fact that she accepted this arrangement so easily, however, broke Jungkook’s heart, because he knew that if you were going through a really difficult time, you wouldn’t even think of calling anyone.

It was a miracle you even admitted what was wrong tonight. You’d been fluent in repressing your feelings and emotions for so long that Jungkook felt a little dizzy hearing you talk now.

“I’m fine,” you repeated as the silence in your bunk became too heavy. “Really. You shouldn’t have—”

“Do you want to walk back with me?” Jungkook asked.

Like Luna, he knew when to push, but he also knew when to stop. When to demand answers and when to distract you.

With Luna, that was understandable. She’d been your closest friend for years. But Jungkook made you watch him in stunned silence for a minute.

It shouldn’t have been surprising how well he knew you, but it was. And as you looked at him, the unexpected lightness in your chest made the inside of the bus spin a little.

Objectively, Jungkook knew that everyone would be done eating by the time you got back to the restaurant. But he suggested this anyway.

And, honestly, you knew that, too. But you still wanted to go with him.

“I would,” you said, your mind whirring with all the reasons why you shouldn’t go, “but we’re probably parked very far from Strandvägen. I don’t know how you walked here in the first place.”

“Let’s go,” he decided, standing up from your bunk.

“Huh? I just said—”

“You said you would. So, let’s go.”

“But I also said—”

“If distance is the only thing stopping you,” he cut in again, “then remember that I performed a whole gig tonight, walked over five kilometres to find you, and I’m still willing to walk back. So, give me a little break and come with me willingly, okay?”

“Hmm,” you ran your tongue over your lips to hide your smile at his phrasing. “And, uh… if I don’t?”

Jungkook was completely serious when he replied, “I will carry you if I have to.”

You immediately stopped smiling and narrowed your eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“Is that supposed to be a challenge—?”

Noticing the almost predatory look in his eyes, you leapt out of your bunk.

“It’s not,” you said, grabbing your phone from the bed. “I’m coming. Let’s go.”

When you and Jungkook left the parking lot, there were barely any people around—apart from a few cars here and there—which was understandable, considering it was almost three in the morning in the middle of the week.

You tended to get lost in your job a lot of the time, so you took a lot of it for granted sometimes. But it was in times like this: on dark, empty streets somewhere in Europe, that you remembered you weren’t working with regular people. You worked with artists. Musicians.

And walking back to the restaurant on Strandvägen—which should have closed hours ago, but that’s another perk of travelling with rockstars: they had the influence and the money to change the working hours of all the places they went to—you were hyper-aware of all this.

And, for a second, you felt almost intimidated. You’d known Jungkook for so long, but now you realised that he wasn’t just Jungkook, your client. Or even Jungkook, your ex-boyfriend.

This was also Jungkook, Rated Riot’s vocalist, strolling through Stockholm, hours after his concert.

But then he turned to look at you—his gaze so warm that you could see it, feel it, even in the dark of the night, under the fluorescent streetlights—and all of those feelings dissipated as quickly as they’d appeared.

He was back to being someone you’d known for almost a decade. Someone who knew things about you that you’d never shared with anyone else.

“So,” he spoke up as the two of you walked. “Is Kai still playing basketball?”

The mention of your brother made your stomach tighten again.

“Yeah,” you replied. “He doesn’t like it, though. But I’m pushing him to keep playing. He’s good at it.”

“Well, he’s tall,” Jungkook remarked.

“That, too,” you agreed. “But he’s also smart. And cunning when he needs to be. This could be his ride to college, he’s skilled enough to get a scholarship.”

“But he doesn’t want to keep playing?”

“I don't know. This is Kai. He doesn’t want to do regular, everyday things. He wants to skydive and eat cockroaches, and stuff.” You glanced at him before adding, “kind of like you, I guess.”

He was almost ready to argue, but ended up chuckling when your eyes met.

“Okay. Yeah,” he concurred. “I guess that’s true.”

“That’s why I’m relieved you guys are no longer in touch.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Wait, I’m the bad influence?”

“You can be,” you said, a meaningful glint in your eyes.

He watched you for a minute, enjoying the moment and your gentle features as you responded to his smile with one of your own. Then a dog barked somewhere in the distance, breaking the spell, and you both looked down at the pavement again.

“So, uh, if not basketball,” Jungkook said, “what does he want to do after school? Last time we talked, he wanted to be a ninja.”

You snorted. “Yeah, that was Kai in his Naruto phase. He’s into Chainsaw Man now, so I’m afraid to ask.

He laughed, clearly understanding where your apprehension was coming from.

“It could be worse,” he said. “At least he’s reading. Even if it’s manga.”

“Yeah.” You lingered on the last vowel as you sighed. “I wish it didn’t influence him this much, though. But then I feel guilty, sometimes, that I’m forcing him to only do the things that are beneficial for him instead of letting him explore other interests and hobbies.”

Jungkook nodded—indicating that he was listening—and suddenly walked to your other side. Growing confused, you felt him lightly touch your hip and nudge you both out of the way of an oncoming bike—which, at two-thirty at night, was surprising, even in a capital city.

Before you could react, he seamlessly returned to your previous conversation. “You just want what’s best for him.”

“I—yeah, uh—I do,” you said, trying to determine if your heart rate increased because of the unexpected bike, or because Jungkook was still walking right next to you, his arm brushing against yours with every step. Crossing your arms over your chest—in an attempt to shield yourself from the chilly night and your own warm chest—you added, “still, I feel like I’m hindering his growth as a person.”

Jungkook looked at you. Because your eyes were focused on the ground, he allowed his gaze to linger longer.

“But that’s not something you should be worrying about,” he said. He couldn’t help it; he felt offended—and hurt—on your behalf. “You’re not his—you’re his sister.”

“I know that,” you replied. “But he was three when dad left for the first time. He doesn’t even remember there ever being a dad. Mom and I are all he’s got. And, you know. Like a true father, I’m pushing him to fulfil my dreams and play in the NCAA.”

Jungkook found several points in your statement that he wanted to address, but he ended up focusing on your half-joking remark, “you wanted to be a basketball player?”

“No,” you said and he lifted his eyebrows higher. “But I’m committed to my role as the father. A father who desperately wants his son to succeed until the son says, ‘it’s not my dream, dad, it’s yours’. You know? Like in any normal family.”

Jungkook snickered—somehow sadly—but did not play along with your joke. Both of you knew that was just a TV trope you were using to divert the topic.

“You don’t need a father to have a normal family,” he said. “The three of you are perfectly normal together.”

You swallowed as your heart switched from beating three times faster than necessary to nearly stopping altogether.

“That’s true,” you said quietly. “But thank you for saying that. It’s easy to forget sometimes.”

“That’s because you’re so used to thinking that your family is different,” he theorised. “Growing up, I thought so, too. My house was the only one on the whole block with over a dozen people living in it. No one else lived with their aunts and uncles.”

You smiled, remembering the absolute chaos that thrived in his family home—a new argument, a new problem every day. It was lovely, though. Before meeting Jungkook and witnessing his life firsthand, you never imagined that families could be so close.

“Not a quiet moment there,” you said.

“Yeah,” he nodded, stuffing his hands in his front pockets to protect them from the cold late-night breeze. “And when I lived back home, I used to kind of hate that unstoppable noise. Now I miss it.”

“Do you go back often?”

You looked at him after you asked this, and suddenly felt your breath catch in your throat as the lights from the skyscraper across the street illuminated his features. Nearly hypnotised, you followed the lights across his face as they accentuated the darkness of his hair and the lightness of the spark in his eyes.

“I—well, probably not often enough,” he replied. You looked away from him to save yourself from making very poor decisions. “But it’s not the same. My brother moved out, my parents bicker every time they speak to each other. My cousins are still louder than all hell. I… I guess it’s just my grandma, really, that I want to see right now.

“Did you call her when we were in Paris?” you asked, recalling your conversation in the taxi outside of Gare du Nord.

Jungkook swallowed. “No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I wanted to, but, uh, she’s... well, she can’t hear very well right now.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You scream for a living.”

He looked at you and retorted with exaggerated dignity, “that’s how I sing.”

“My point still stands.”

He shook his head, a small smile appearing on his lips.

“It wouldn’t matter even if that was true,” he said, and, out of the corner of your eye, you could see the smile fade from his face. “She, uh, she doesn’t always understand me. Or, remember me, actually.”

You felt three separate stabs: one in your chest, one in your stomach and one somewhere in your lungs. They left you completely breathless and absolutely speechless for a full minute. It was hard to discern which had affected you more: the realisation that his grandmother—the most lovable lady you’d ever met—was sick, or the way Jungkook looked as he said this.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered. The late hour and this revelation called for hushed voices.

“Thank you,” Jungkook replied with a distracted nod. He unconsciously sped up and you had to take two steps for every one of his to catch up.

You reached a bridge when Jungkook continued, “she has better days. My aunt and uncle are looking after her right now. I asked them to call me when she has a good day, but, uh... I haven’t heard from them since we arrived in Europe.”

Struggling to keep up, you reached out a hand and gently touched his shoulder, bringing him to a full stop in the pedestrian lane of the bridge over the Tranebergssund strait.

The lights from nearby buildings reflected in the water below, and you could sense the beauty around you as you caught glimpses through your peripherals. But you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Jungkook’s cloudy gaze.

You’ve spent over a week in Europe. You didn’t know that he was waiting to hear about his grandmother the whole time.

“That’s really unfair,” you remarked. “Your grandma loves you so much.”

“Yeah.” He looked down at his sneakers, then leaned his back against the railing of the bridge. “She actually once told me I was her favourite grandson.”

You smiled at this, then teased softly, “she probably said that to all of her grandsons.”

“Okay, but to me first!”

“Okay, okay,” you agreed, chuckling. “That might be true. In any case, this is—I don’t even know what to say. How is your grandpa handling it all?”

The brief moment of lightness faded from the conversation as Jungkook inhaled deeply and looked around, searching for a distraction.

“He is, uh... coping,” he finally replied. “Never admits what he’s feeling, but his eyes always well up when he talks to her.”

“Does she remember him?” you asked.

“Sometimes,” he said.

“On good days?” you echoed his previous observation.

“Yeah. On bad days, she pretends to remember,” he explained. “On really bad days, she’s so scared of the familiar face, but unknown person, that she can’t even pretend.”

“God,” you sighed, resting your forearms on the railing. “Both of them must be in so much pain.”

Jungkook nodded slowly and turned around, mirroring your position. The two of you watched the strait in silence for a minute, observing the lights as they danced on the soft, gentle ripples on the surface of the water.

There was a storm inside of him, nothing like the peaceful water below. It was a storm he did not like to think about, a storm he tried to run away from. But with you here, he felt a little less afraid of it.

“They’ve been together for almost sixty years,” he said. “I don’t—I can’t even begin to imagine what this must be like for them.”

“It sounds like a nightmare,” you admitted. “I don’t know what’s scarier: forgetting your loved ones or being forgotten by the ones you love.”

He answered without hesitation, “being forgotten. If you forget, it’s just—it gets scary sometimes, because everything seems so foreign. But most of the time, it’s just empty, I think. Quiet. You can still feel the love of the people around you even if you can’t remember who they are. But being forgotten—that—that’s just unbearable. You’re talking to someone you love so much, and t-they have no idea who you are.”

It felt like your heart was about to tear in half as you listened to the pain in his voice. You did not dare to imagine what sort of warzone his chest had become.

“How long was she sick?” you asked so quietly that the water nearly carried your words away.

“She was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a year ago,” he replied. “Back then, her worst symptom was very shaky hands. She’s always been distracted and scatterbrained, so we didn’t think it was anything serious. But then she started to talk about visiting her sister who’s been dead for almost six years now, and uh… yeah.”

“Shit,” you whispered, because, for a moment, that was the only word that could capture what you were feeling.

You squeezed your eyes shut as if that would make hearing this easier. The cold wind and the raw emotion of this conversation made it all the more difficult to keep your eyes dry.

A short while later, you added shakily, “this breaks my heart, so I don’t even—I probably can’t even begin to understand what you and your family have been going through. I-I wish you’d told me.”

Jungkook looked at you, startled momentarily by your teary eyes. Then he realised that his own throat had become tight.

Turning towards you, he admitted, “I wish I had, too.”

You responded by turning to him as well.

There was a quiet moment, filled only with the wind as it moved the trees, the water, and the two of you closer to each other.

Jungkook reached for you almost instinctively. His hands were hesitant at first, unsure of how you would react. But your small nod—so small, you weren’t sure if you’d really willed your head to move—gave him permission to come closer.

He enveloped you in his embrace and exhaled so deeply that his lungs almost hollowed out when he felt you lean your head against his shoulder and slide your hands over his back.

“I-I know there’s nothing I could have done,” you whispered, “but I just—”

“You would have known,” he interrupted, tightening his grip around your waist. The side of his face was pressed against yours and you could feel every word on your temple. “That would have been enough.”

He was completely still, focused entirely on the feeling of you in his arms and the way your scent, your warmth, your touch—you—seemed to ease the pain inside of him. The way it quieted the storm, made the noise more bearable, the wind less powerful.

“I know now,” you said, lifting your head to look at him. “You can come find me if you get any news, good or bad.”

Breathing unsteadily, he nodded.

You watched each other, neither one daring to move. He held you and marvelled at how he’d survived so long without the feeling of your arms around him—tentative as if you were afraid he’d disappear if you held on too tightly. As if you’d wake up and leave this—all of this—in a near-forgotten dream.

He was the one who held you tighter in turn; to show you that he was here with you. And to show himself, too.

He understood that he had to let go of you soon—to return his hands to the frigid railing of the bridge or slide them back into his pockets—but he chose to play dumb. He chose to pretend he couldn’t read the situation, so he could keep his arms around you for just a minute longer.

His grandma used to say that a hug made everything better, and for a long time, she was one of two people in his life whose hugs truly made his heart and his mind slow down.

He hadn’t been able to hug her in a while. But he was hugging the second person right now.

“Thank you,” he said, reluctantly unwrapping his arms from around you. “Promise you’ll do the same? About your brother?”

You gave him a sad smile as you took a small step back. The chill of the night felt even more intense.

“I promise I’ll try,” you said.

He smiled back, understanding that this was already a lot coming from you.

You glanced at the water once more before returning your gaze to his face as you nervously stretched your fingers.

This conversation, along with memories of his family and how much they loved each other, reminded you of many things about your relationship that you had tried to forget.

There was something else, too. Something you couldn’t forget and couldn’t escape.

“Can I ask you something?” you said.

“Of course,” he replied, his body still facing yours even though you had gone back to leaning into the bridge railing.

“It’s something I’ve always wondered—actually, I tried to ask you before, but, uh, you never really told me,” you spoke, stalling, as you were too nervous to just spit it out.

“Okay,” he said patiently.

“Why are you friends with Sid and his crew?”

If Jungkook was surprised by the question, he didn’t show it as he inhaled and looked somewhere behind you. Somewhere far, far into the distance.

“You know why,” he said. “We have fun.”

“I understand that part,” you said. “They distract you from the stress. I get it. But… is that really it?”

Now he began to fidget. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he turned to face the water, then got one hand out to scratch his neck, just below his chin.

“That’s very—uh, what brought this on?” he asked, the question functioning more like a defence mechanism than a manifestation of his curiosity. “Why are you asking me that suddenly?”

“Well, because I doubt Sid has even a spoonful of emotional attachment to any of his family members,” you said. “All three of them grew up so rich that their silver spoons were golden. And you’re so different.”

Jungkook swallowed. Coming from anyone else, this question would have probably offended him, even though he understood that you merely meant his relationship with his family.

He’d been friends with Sid, Jude, and Minjun for a long time, but he sometimes wondered if they kept him around out of pity. And so, he wanted to make it clear that he was more than just Sid’s little sidekick. His errand boy.

He may not have had as much money as his friends—not yet, anyway—but now, finally, he had something that none of them did: popularity and acclaim. It pushed him forward until he could walk alongside his friends. Until, he thought, he could truly call them friends and not feel inappropriate.

They were equals now.

And still, deep down, he knew you were right. He was fundamentally different from the three of them. And you were the only person he felt comfortable admitting that to.

“Yeah, uh, I know I am,” he said, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Our differences are what initially drew me to them, I think. I was always restrained by my family and, I guess, our relative lack of money. Compared to them, I mean. Meanwhile, they could just do whatever they wanted without a single worry. Sure, they all have jobs, but it’s different for them. They know they’ll be fine even if they drink those jobs away. All of that seemed exciting and, I don’t know, invigorating to me. It still seems that way. When I say I want what they have, I don’t mean their money. I mean their freedom.”

When he paused, you nodded quietly. You could see he hadn’t finished yet.

“I feel like...” he said, his eyes cast low. “Like I don’t have to worry about the consequences of my actions, either, when I’m with them. I know I do, but it feels good to pretend for a while that I don’t.” He swallowed before continuing, “but, uh… I realise that I have certain responsibilities. I have the band. I have you. Unlike them, I can never truly be free. At the end of the night, I always go home. And my grandma is there to remind me who I really am and where I come from.”

“That’s why I asked,” you said. “It’s impossible she would approve of your friendship with them.”

“She doesn’t know about them.”

You weren’t expecting this, and you couldn’t hide your reaction as your lips parted and eyebrows rose in obvious surprise. “She—she doesn’t?”

“No,” he admitted. “I never told her. I want her to believe that I’m friends with nice boys like me.”

An ironic smile appeared on his face as he said that last part and you couldn’t help but snicker. You wouldn’t have used this particular adjective to describe Sid or Jungkook, but you knew that, unlike Sid, Jungkook did have a different side to him. A side that he rarely showed anyone, but you remembered it in his good morning texts and goodnight kisses.

“Shouldn’t that be a sign to you that these people aren’t good for you?” you asked. “You’ve never lied to your grandma.”

Something inside him prepared to argue, but he held the urge until it dissolved in his grip. He knew you were right.

Sighing, he said, ��probably,” and left it at that.

The truth was, he became friends with Sid, Jude, and Minjun, because he wanted to be like them. He wanted what they had.

But, over time, their friendship became something else. A distraction. A way to maintain his sanity. And he didn’t know how to tell you about that.

He didn’t know how to tell you that he had a fear that had ingrained itself into his mind. A fear that he’d never tried to describe before, worried that speaking it aloud would bring it to life. It would materialise around him and swallow him whole.

It was loneliness, he supposed. Or maybe just himself.

Growing up with a family so big and friends so plenty, he never learned how to be alone. He never learned what to do when it was just him and his thoughts in an empty room for an extended period of time. He didn’t know how to distract himself from all that plagued his mind.

He was afraid of silence, afraid of the way it made his mind scream at him. He was afraid of those screams—they came from a dark place deep within his subconscious.

The screams were his doubts and insecurities. His flaws and weaknesses. His anxiety and fears.

And his friends—all three of them—made sure he was never alone. They made sure there were always enough voices in the room to keep him away from his thoughts. To keep him busy, to keep his mind satisfied.

And on this night, as you watched Jungkook drift away from you while you stood on the bridge, you could sense that there was a lot he’d still left unsaid.

“Be honest, though,” you said to the faded look in his eyes. He blinked when you started to speak and returned to the moment. “Does Sid really never get on your nerves?”

His smile was sad. “He does almost every day.”

“So why do you put up with it?” you asked. “Is this distraction really worth it? This feeling of freedom.”

Jungkook sighed. Sid wasn’t worth it. The rational part of him knew that much. Sometimes, Sid was louder than his own thoughts, and that was hardly better. But without Sid…

A silent minute later, you answered for him, “it’s the rest of them, isn’t it? You think if you cut Sid off, Jude and Minjun will leave with him.”

“I know they will leave with him.”

Uncertain how he’d take this, you asked awkwardly, “would that… really be such a bad thing?”

“I’ve known them since I was a kid,” Jungkook said as a way of answering.

“Well,” you clicked your tongue. “That sounds a little like an unhealthy attachment.”

He lowered his head. He knew that he wasn’t the best judge of what was healthy and what wasn’t, but even he could tell that his friendship with Sid had taken a turn for the worse. And still, he’s known Sid and the rest of his friends for years.

“There were good moments, though,” he said, his tone hopeful. “Sid wasn’t always this... obnoxious.”

You assumed as much; otherwise, Jungkook wouldn’t have kept him around for so long. Still, you asked, “what moments?”

“Well… the birthday parties, for example,” he began. “I saw fireworks, stood behind the wheel of a yacht, and drank decades-old whiskey way before I was legally allowed to do these things. And I didn’t have to pay for anything. Oh, and, okay—I also saw Sid dance to Britney Spears, which is, of course, priceless.”

There was unexpected amusement on your face. “Okay. That’s fair. I wish I’d seen that.”

“You really don’t,” he said. “I still have nightmares about it. He brought out a guitar later. Attempted to remix ‘Toxic’.”

Sucking your lips in to keep yourself from laughing, you nodded. “Hmm. Fitting song.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook restricted himself less as he laughed at your comment. “He can’t play for shit, though.”

Finally, you laughed, too.

Grinning, he continued, “the racing, too. I-I know this isn’t something you want to know about, but it’s—I guess, it’s a special memory for me.”

“It’s okay,” you said, a little surprised by the ease in your own voice. Racing used to be a taboo topic in your relationship. For you, that meant ‘don’t do it’, but for Jungkook, it meant, ‘do it in a way that she doesn’t find out’. Now, you said, “you can go on.”

He went on, “we raced in pairs. Jude was usually with Sid, I was with Minjun. We couldn’t do it individually, because I didn’t have a car of my own, and it wouldn’t have been fair. So, Sid bought me a car. You know the one.”

You knew and the knowledge made you lower your eyes. Even four years later, this car was difficult to forget.

But as you listened to him romanticise his friendship with Sid, you weren’t sure if Jungkook was even aware of how much the car and these races influenced your eventual break-up. How these happy moments that he shared with Sid led to unhappy moments with you.

“Then there was the time we were drunk and, somehow, ended up on the beach,” he continued, and you looked up from the water as you listened. “It got really sentimental in a way that it almost never does with us. I think Sid started it, actually, when he said that he wanted to become a musician.”

Your eyes widened, the image of Sid with a musical instrument successfully distracting you from your thoughts.

“No,” you said. “Was he serious?”

“Yeah. Dead serious.”

“Free Britney.”

He snorted. “Not for Britney. Punk rock. He had a bass and everything. He owned all the Sex Pistols records. You can see where I’m going.”

You paused, thinking. Slowly, your eyes narrowed.

“Not Sid Vicious,” you said.

Jungkook nodded and the sound of your exaggerated groaning made him laugh.

“He used to scream—I mean, literally screech at the top of his lungs—if his parents called him Isidore,” he said. “He started to go by Sid as a tribute and, I don’t know, a manifestation, I guess.”

You shook your head. The only resemblance Sid held to the notorious Sex Pistols’ bassist—aside from the drugs—was that he, too, seemed to give everyone headaches wherever he went.

“It was that night on the beach that I said I wanted that, too. Music, I mean,” Jungkook continued. “And we joked, for a minute, that we should start a band together, the four of us. Jude was going to be the lead singer, by the way.”

You scrunched your nose; another absurd image. “And you?”

“The drummer, of course. Rocking a cigarette between my teeth as I dropped killer beats.”

You laughed again. This was the one thing from their fantasies that you could see: the four of them choosing all the wrong positions in the band, but thinking they made it work because they looked cool on stage.

“So, what happened then?” you asked. “After you were the only one who became a musician.”

“Nothing,” Jungkook said. You scratched your forehead to hide the frown that your laughter had morphed into. Defending his friends came naturally to him and this habit was so useless. “I don't know. Sid never mentioned it again. I don’t think he cares.”

You looked down. You thought Sid cared.

Jungkook must have believed that they were equals now. But you knew they weren’t, and they never could be as long as Sid was involved.

The less of a lackey and more of an individual Jungkook became, the more Sid’s jealousy had to grow. Especially now that Jungkook was doing something that Sid had, apparently, always wanted to do.

“These good moments,” you started slowly, “that’s so long ago. When was the last time you had a good moment with him? When you had drinks in Prague?”

Jungkook almost winced at the unexpected memory of what happened at the hotel bar in Prague. Scrambling for a response, he gripped the railing of the bridge. “No, um, that was—that was one of the bad moments.”

“Really?” you were surprised. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“If I did, you would have thrown me in the water.”

You glanced at the strait reflexively. “It’s that bad?”

“It’s...” he sucked in a breath. “Not good.”

“Huh.” You ran your fingers over the railing, confused. With all that had happened—Sid’s lie about Jungkook’s ex, the Paris trip, the unfortunate encounter at the bar in Berlin—it was hard for you to guess what could have constituted a bad moment between him and Sid. “But Sid’s still kicking it. Wreaking havoc on Stockholm.”

Jungkook only hummed in response.

This time, your question was intentionally provocative, “so what does he have to do to cross the line?”

He brought the sole of his sneakers over the ground, rubbing at the pavement to win another moment.

“He’s done everything, I think,” he said finally. “The more time I spend with him here in Europe, the more I realise that things will be different when we go home.”

“Oh.” You blinked. Discomfort and distaste and even a sprinkle of pure dread gathered in the pit of your stomach. “So, he—he’s staying here until we go home?”

He lifted his eyes and noticed the way the light in your gaze seemed to dim. He wanted to assure you, but he also knew that there was something else he wanted, too.

He wanted to defeat Sid. He wanted to make him regret his actions for once. He wanted him to deal with something that he’d never had to deal with before: consequences.

So, all that Jungkook could say to you, was a lame, “I-I don't know.”

The disappointment remained prominent on your face as you said, “well, as long as I don’t see him, I guess, you can… think about what you want to do with him. I just think you deserve better friends.”

He cleared his throat and tried to shift the topic, “I thought Minjun wasn’t that bad.”

You glanced at him and saw the desperation in his attempt at a smile—it was there, but it did not quite reach his eyes.

“He’s tolerable,” you replied kindly.

He snickered. “Okay.”

“Keep him,” you said. “Lose Sid.”

“Hmm. And Jude?”

“Let Jude decide.” You shrugged. It seemed really simple. “It’s not a divorce, you don’t need to divide children. He can choose his real friends himself.”

Sadness returned to his voice as he looked down. “He’ll choose Sid.”

Your voice remained firm. “Then let him.”

Jungkook sighed. There wasn’t much else he could say to you. He heard it in your voice—all the determination that he lacked, you made up for it.

You noted that this wasn’t simple for him, at all. He’d known Sid, Jude, and Minjun since he was a teenager. It was easy for a friendship to feel permanent when it was decades-long. When you got so used to it, you didn’t think to imagine what it’d be like without it.

“Look…” you said, leaning your back against the railing. “If I were more like Sid, I’d be forceful. Maybe I’d even offer something as leverage. Something bad that I would do to you if you didn’t stop being friends with them. But I’m not Sid.”

Flashing back to the bet again, Jungkook groaned. “And thank God for that.”

“Yeah. So, I’m just… all I can do is tell you that you deserve better,” you said. “You deserve to be happy, you know? I don’t always talk shit about your friends because I personally think they’re shit.” You paused when he gave you a look. “Fine. It’s not just because I think they’re shit. I’m—I’m also looking out for you.”

“I appreciate that. You’re…” he stopped, feeling a flicker of fear for your reaction. He decided to push through more quietly, “you’re one of the few people in my life who does that for me.”

“Surround yourself with these people,” you said, too lost in the moment to notice his apprehension. “The ones who really care about you. It doesn’t matter how many of them there are. If they’re the only ones left in your life, I promise it’ll feel enough.”

He shook his head. “It’s not the quantity that matters for me, anyway. It’s… a lot of other things.”

“Think if those things are really worth it,” you persisted, “and if it wouldn’t be more reasonable to just walk away.”

He remembered—so suddenly, it almost knocked him off his feet and his grip on the railing tightened—how you’d done it. How you walked away from him for what was supposed to be the final time.

If it weren’t for a stroke of luck—or destiny, he supposed—he might have never seen you again. He might have never stood on this bridge in Stockholm with you. And if he’d gone after you that time, if he’d stopped you, then maybe he wouldn’t have had to wait for four years to get to this bridge.

Everything required a decision, and he was desperate to know if you ever regretted yours.

“Even if walking away could hurt them?” he asked you.

You looked at him and misjudged the sadness in his eyes for the pain of losing long-time friends.

“You’re hurting me,” you countered, “when you let them treat you like that. When you let them put you in danger.”

He could suddenly hear the silence around you both. With his eyes locked on you, he stammered, “w-why does that hurt you?”

This time, it was you who didn’t have a proper answer to his question. “Because.”

Inhaling until his lungs overflowed, Jungkook lifted his chin and closed his eyes.

A heavy minute later, he asked, “do you know what is the one thing that I’m glad my grandma forgot?”

The sudden change in conversation caught you off guard. “Uh—what?”

“You.”

You continued to watch him, and there seemed to be something burning in this word—a fire strong enough to shield you from the cold wind of the Swedish night and light your skin up with a warmth that felt innate and familiar.

“Why, um,”—you swallowed, interrupting yourself—“why are you glad?”

“Because she’d managed to do the one thing I couldn’t,” he replied.

The fire in your chest spread and you could barely inhale before it consumed everything inside of you.

You looked down at the water below. “Jungkook—”

There it was – his name like a curse on your lips. He didn’t think he was going to last this long in the first place, but this still felt like a forceful slam of a door in his face.

“I know,” he said quickly. “It’s too much, sorry. It’s just... being here with you makes me feel like myself again. Like I’m not just Rated Riot’s vocalist. Not just Sid’s friend. I’m also more than that. It probably makes no sense to you—”

“No,” you interrupted, shivering as the warmth inside of you faded into anxiety. Into fear. “I—I understand what you mean. But I think it’s because we’ve spent so much time together these past few days. It’s easy to get lost in the memories.”

Your guard went back up so quickly that Jungkook scoffed under his breath. He thought he’d broken down some of your defences tonight. Really, he’d merely bent them, if even that.

He still couldn’t tell you anything more out of fear that you would get lost in Stockholm just to run away from him.

“Well, why do you think we’ve been spending so much time together?” he asked, a certain edge to his voice.

You looked at him. “That’s what I’ve been asking you since we came to Prague.”

“It’s because I’m—because—” he started to say and then, in search of the right words, ended up dropping his own walls so he could admit, simply, “I just miss you.”

Still, you looked away and insisted, almost childishly, “you can’t miss me. My job is being with you and the band 24/7.”

He wasn’t sure if you were saying that because it was just easier like this, or because you genuinely felt this way.

Regardless, he shook his head.

“I miss you outside of your job,” he said, gaining confidence now that you weren’t looking at each other. He continued to speak to the water, “I miss hanging out with you. I miss how we used to spend hours scrolling through Netflix, trying to decide what to watch only to get so distracted by our conversation that we’d end up talking the whole night while the movie posters played in the background. I miss the way you’d sing backup vocals for me when I was putting on a show in the shower. I miss the apple scent of your shampoo and how the bottle was the perfect microphone. And the way you screamed that one time, when I nearly blinded you by accidentally squirting shampoo directly into your eye.”

You snickered—quietly, involuntarily, almost painfully—and the sound brought him back down from his memories as he turned to face you again.

“I miss everything,” he finished. “All those little moments.”

Your glance at him was furtive, momentary.

“Why now?” you asked.

This time, it was Jungkook who laughed—incredulously, cynically. “Why always? I don’t think I’ve ever truly stopped missing you.”

As you became more aware of how close he was—physically, of course, because mentally, he might as well have already been inside your head—goosebumps began to rise on your skin. Not just from the cold night, but also because he was right there—right fucking there—and you weren’t touching him.

Clearing your throat, you tried again, “well, why did you tell me now, then?”

Deep inside, he was anticipating the question—it made sense, he could see why you’d want to know—but he still winced when he heard it.

Despite everything that had happened tonight—each moment brutally honest and coming from the deepest parts of his heart; the parts that he’d kept hidden for four years—there was a reason why he was telling you this now.

It’s because he was a fraud.

He’d made a fucking bet.

Inhaling sharply, he lifted his gaze to the cloudy sky above. He shrugged, hating himself with every word that was supposed to be an explanation, “better late than never or something like that, I guess.”

You observed him for a second before you looked away, too. You didn’t say anything, and he was desperate to make things right—at least, as right as he possibly could, without making them worse.

“I’m sorry if everything I said made you uncomfortable,” he tried. “I just wanted to—”

You shook your head, encouraged by the darkness and the emptiness of the street around you—like there was no one else here in Stockholm tonight, just the wind, the bridge, the two of you, and the water below.

“No,” you cut him off. “I’ve missed you, too."

His heart rate sped up so quickly that he thought it might give him whiplash. This night, in its entirety, was a rollercoaster ride.

He looked at you, shocking you with how intense his own shock was. “You have?”

Realising that he’d gone out of his way to do these things—spending time with you, helping you backstage, taking you to Paris—while you continued to find it all suspicious as if there was some deeper, more malicious reason for his actions, you began to feel guilty.

Wanting to redeem yourself, you nodded firmly.

“Yeah,” you said. “I have.”

Jungkook was nearly suffocating, his lungs full of something that he could not inhale.

The rollercoaster had reached its peak—his heart was leaping out of his chest—and suddenly, it plummeted at a rapid, nauseating speed. He felt like he was free-falling, his stomach slamming and hitting everything on its way down, as he realised, in horror, what he was doing.

He was taking advantage of the fact that you didn’t know about the bet. He was taking advantage of you.

You were being honest with him—which was rare for you in general, but even rarer nowadays—and he wasn’t doing the same for you. Not entirely.

There was a real reason why he told you about this now, not months—even years—earlier.

The memory of Sid suggesting the bet that very first night in Prague was sharp and brittle. It added to the weight of the confessions he’d made tonight and each of his words ricocheted off his ribcage and pierced his heart as a reminder that everything he’d told you tonight was a half-truth.

He meant what he said about missing you. He meant every single word, every little barely pronounced syllable that kept getting caught on the spikes in his heart, stabbed there each time he remembered that you were no longer together.

Four years he’d felt this way. And deep down, at the end of every day, he knew that he wanted you. Bet or no bet.

And he saw now—he could feel now—that he may have had a chance. A second chance.

But you were looking at him, the colour of your eyes reflected on every surface around him, and he couldn’t move.

He couldn’t take the chance. Not like this.

“It’s cold,” he said. “Should we go?”

The way the colour seemed to drain from your eyes was painful. He felt nauseous as he looked away.

“Uh, yeah,” you said. There was an emptiness in your voice—a great reflection of the sudden space that had opened up in his chest and in yours. “Let’s go.”

The disappointment came so abruptly, it caught you off-guard. You felt like this wasn’t everything that had to have happened tonight.

You felt like the night had been leading up to something. You weren’t sure what, and you weren’t sure how far you’d let it get, but here it was, instead; the disappointment.

The two of you walked the rest of the way to Strandvägen in silence.

One half of your pair felt confused and unexpectedly dispirited. The other half regretted being born.

There was something else, too; a feeling that the two of you shared. And it was the same thing—the thing that almost happened tonight—that you were both afraid of.

chapter title credits: sleep token, “is it really you?”

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seonghwaddict · 9 months

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forget-me-not — kim hongjoong

in which the wall separating you and him is very thin, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

neighbour!kim hongjoong! x fem!reader. genre. fluff, comfort. warnings. a storm. wc. 1k

lilo’s notes. happy birthday @pocketjoong!! a little hongjoong drabble to celebrate sky’s birthday!! i also have a permanent taglist now so if you’d like to be added please let me know :]

listening to. round and around, jo yuri.

masterlist

you really hated thunderstorms.

as you lay in bed wide awake a little past midnight, you flinched as thunder roared outside your window, the soft pitter patter of rain hitting the glass not easing your anxious mind. usually you’d be able to handle it, but since you moved into your apartment only two months before, there was a minimal sense of comfort.

despite living here for four months, you hadn’t quite settled in. the furniture from your previous apartment was still on the other side of the country, complications with the transportation preventing you from receiving it until september. but, nevertheless, you did enjoy living here.

sure, the walls were quite thin and most nights you could hear commotion in the neighbouring apartments… but the complex was well kept and the people in the surrounding area were friendly enough. you had even gotten somewhat close with one of your neighbours.

the first time you met hongjoong was in a park just around the corner of the building 3 months ago. you had reached down to pick a flower, unaware of the handsome man reaching for the same one, vision somewhat blocked by the large box of utensils in your other hand. when your fingers brushed against each other, the two of you jumped apart as you realised what had happened.

“oh- um… you… you can have it.” you’d muttered, gesturing to the beautiful white flower.

he had merely smiled and shook his head, a soft smile stretched on his lips. “ no, no, it’s ok. you should take it. i think you would’ve reached it first anyway.”

still unsure, you furrowed your eyebrows and looked around in determination to find an equally pretty flower. finally, your eyes settled on a bundle of baby blue forget-me-nots, setting your box down and walking over two small steps to crouch and pick them. after standing up, you held the bundle of flowers out to him.

“you can have these, then,” you had smiled at him warmly, “they match your sweater.”

he bowed politely and walked away with a small smile after accepting the pretty bundle of flowers while you picked up your box in one hand and the single white flower in the other and walked to your new home. soon enough, you realised you’d have to encounter the cute silver-haired man more frequently than you expected.

this became apparent a day later when you stood in the lobby and called for the elevator to go up to your apartment. once it reached your floor and the doors slid open, there he was, standing on the other side and waiting for the same elevator.

“oh, it’s you,” you wanted to smack yourself in the face for not coming up with something better to say. but, nevertheless, that still got his attention as he glanced up from his phone screen.

after a moment, a look of recognition passed over his face and his eyes seemed impossibly soft. it had something stirring in your stomach and you weren’t sure if you welcomed it. it was then that you learned that he was the one who lived in the apartment on your right and frequently had his friends over who were sometimes so loud you could hear them through the wall of your bedroom. but you didn’t tell him about that last part.

from then on you’d see each other more often, whether it was in that same park, leaving your place as he enters his, small talk in the elevator.

eventually, he even realised how thin the walls were. one night you were scrolling through your phone in the comfort of your bed when you heard a loud thud followed by a “SHIT!” through the wall. You say up, confusion written all over your face as you tentatively knocked on the wall.

“you okay?” it took him a second to respond, looking around his room with just as much confusion to see where the voice came from until his eyes settled on the wall separating his and your bedroom.

“yeah, i’m okay.” he sat cross legged on his bed facing the white wall. then he spoke with a slight laugh, “i knocked over my lamp.”

after that incident, it wasn’t unusual for you to have late night conversations through the wall. sometimes you’d be writing your book, asking for suggestions and forgotten words through it and he would help you out. other times he’s be working on his music, playing it just loud enough for you to hear so you could give him a second opinion.

but now as you lay flinching and sobbing in your bed, everything was silent and you were alone. well… until there was a small knock on the wall by your head.

“you okay?”

you pulled the covers closer and nodded your head, soon realising he couldn’t see you. “yeah, i’m good.”

“really? because i can hear you sobbing through the wall.” you couldn’t see him either, but his face was so full of concern it was obvious he actually cared. “you can talk to me, you know…”

when you didn’t respond immediately, he thought you fell asleep. but your small, shaking voice said otherwise. “i-i’m gonna sound stupid…”

“try me.”

his answer was so sure and caring it nearly brought heat to your face. nearly. because as you opened your mouth to respond, another boom of thunder crashed outside your window that has you cursing loudly. he tilted his head, brows furrowing.

“are you scared of the storm?”

“no… okay, yes maybe a bit… a lot actually.” you admitted, squeezing your eyes shut at the prospect you just might have embarrassed yourself in front of your super handsome and pretty much perfect neighbour.

“that’s okay, there’s no need to be ashamed of it.”

you could hear the caring smile in his voice and could almost picture it as well. so, you relaxed. unsure of how to respond, you stayed silent.

“tell me about your day, y/n.”

you knew damn well he was just trying to distract you and talk you into forgetting about the weather, but you answered. and then it turned into another meaningful conversation as he kept your mind too busy to worry about the thunder and rain and lightning. your crying and flinches and shaking subsided quickly and you relaxed as you listened to the voice of the man you were beginning to fall for.

networks. @cromernet @blankjournal

taglist. @ad0rechuu

#bjnet #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong fluff #hongjoong fluff #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez au #kpop writers #kpop writing #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong drabble #hongjoong imagine #hongjoong scenarios #cromernet

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cottonundiestf · 1 month

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Plain Jane (Attribute Theft, BE, Altification)

She hated that her parents named her Jane. They didn't know they were signing her up for torture. They didn't know Jane Gray would grown into an exceptionally plain young woman, turning the name she grew up with since childhood into the perfect insult. Plain Jane. Even her nickname couldn't be unique.

The eighteen-year-old finished the gauntlet of social torment that was high school and she didn't see how college was going to be any better. With her dishwater brown hair, stick-like figure, lower-middle class upbringing, and total lack of style, Jane was overlooked at best and teased at worst.

There was a big senior bonfire at the beach for graduates to celebrate their last summer before going off to college and jobs, and for some reason, Jane let her friend Danielle drag her out for one last hurrah.

When she got to the beach, everyone was having fun and barely noticed her arrival. She went to find Dani, but before she could, her eye was drawn to a gold necklace nestled in the cool sand. It had three gold moon charms of different phases, each seemingly missing a stone that should be set in it.

Jane considered looking for the owner of the necklace, but everyone was too busy to give her the time of day anyway, right? Screw it, she deserved one nice thing tonight.

She fastened the necklace around her neck as Dani, one of her only friends at school, found her. She handed Jane a drink so they could reflect on graduation and look ahead to college, an experience Jane still wasn't optimistic about.

"You're being too hard on yourself, Jane. Besides, college is going to be the perfect time to reinvent yourself."

Everyone always said that. But that was easy for Dani to say; she never had a problem standing out. She grew out of a goth look and attitude over the years, but that just left her as some kind of alt rock goddess, with her dyed hair and a collection of tattoos Jane's parents never would have signed off on at such a young age. Even her style was full of bold blacks and vibrant neons that Jane just could never pull off.

Jane wished she could be half as exciting as Dani while Dani seemed drawn to stare at her friend's new accessory. "Woah, that's a really cool necklace. Is it... um... new?"

Dani looked dizzy, her eyes starting to glaze over. "Dani? Dan—woah." The sudden wave of dizziness passed on to Jane, but it wasn't the only thing.

She felt the ripple of goosebumps across her skin as art pieces etched themselves in ink, each tattoo flooding her head with memories of tattoo parlors and songs that inspired them. It wasn't the kind of music Jane listened to, except... well, it was, right? Her and Dani traded songs and bands, sneaking out to underground concerts throughout high school. Dani was even the one to dye Jane's hair a vibrant blue before graduation.

When the sudden wave of memories and pleasure associated with her tattoos subsided, Jane finally looked herself over, realizing she didn't imagine the change. She started to say something to Dani before looking her over again.

She had fewer tattoos and piercings; if Jane had to guess, she had lost about as many tattoos as Jane gained. What's more, her blue hair was now black with a few blue streaks. She was still gorgeous though, which was why Jane was dating her.

Wait. What?

Jane was always your typical straight girl, but that's not what her memories were telling her, and it certainly wasn't what her body thought. All those nights sneaking out weren't just to go to parties. Dani and Jane had their queer awakenings around the same time, and who better to explore that with then your punk rock bestie?

Dani finally came to, seemingly unaware of what changed or the features Jane... well, stole. Unintentionally, but that was absolutely what happened. "Want to get out of here and...?" Dani just grinned.

Jane felt the sudden warmth in her cheeks and... other places. "Yeah, let's—wait. Er, sorry, but not just yet. I... want to go around and talk to a few people first?"

Dani stared at her girlfriend blankly. "...You do?"

Jane laughed weakly, coming up with a lame excuse of wanting to end things on good terms before leaving her hometown in the Fall. Dani accepted the excuse with a kiss and left Jane alone to inspect her necklace.

As expected, this had to be involved somehow. The crescent moon charm had a new sapphire set in it, leaving her with two gemless moons. Assuming she knew what that meant now...

Jane wandered the periphery of the party, looking girls from her graduating class over. She felt a little guilty for what she took from Dani, but she didn't have the same apprehensions about the girls who spent the years ignoring her.

Eventually, she spotted Lily. Everyone knew she was a social butterfly and a huge flirt, and she had the look to back it up. She had the hips, she had the ass, and as every guy on the beach could tell you, she had a perfect pair of breasts. She even had a pretty face to match, proving fate played favorites.

But fate wasn't in charge tonight. "Hey Lily! Good luck next year. Got any plans?"

The redhead looked away from the two guys chatting her up, confused by the introvert's sudden friendliness. "Hey. Um, Jane, right? Thanks! I've got a job lined up, so... er... sorry, that's just a really nice... necklace?"

No one around them seemed to notice, but Lily and Jane were falling into the same daze she put Dani under before as their realities swapped a few key details around.

There was a sudden spark in Jane's heart. Something feisty. She was always an awkward, quiet kid, but that was all over. She was the one who made herself the life of the party wherever she went. She could feel it on her tongue; flirtation was like a second language Jane was fluent in.

Jane's beanpole figure filled out, her hips flaring to accommodate a new bubble butt. Her flat chest swelled, not quite to the perfectly shaped DDs Lily has... had, but to a size where she could feel them weighing on her chest. Lily was never actively antagonistic to Jane, so she was willing to leave her some gentle curves and some perky A cups.

But she did take all she could from that stunning face. Soft freckles, high cheek bones, full lips, and some fuck-me eyes that could make a man unload his wallet.

Which was what made Jane realize what else she took: the new job Lily had lined up. Jane's awkward, unimpressive body was now made to dance and show off, and that meant she was excited for the chance to strip her way through college for some spending money. She even stole Lily's stage name, Lulu. (It wasn't Lily at her most creative, but now it wasn't Lily's at all, so that was fine.)

Lily finally came to, finishing her inspection of the new ruby in Jane's half-moon charm. Her face was so bland now, like a stock character made to fill in the background of a video game. When Jane smiled and excused herself, Lily looked around, unsure of what to do now. The poor thing would acclimate to her new social anxiety in time, and in time, Jane would adjust to the guys who kept offering her drinks.

With one charm left, Jane had an idea of who she'd use it on, but the night was young. She spent some time dancing and teasing guys from her class, reveling in the attention she lacked in her old life. This was almost perfect.

But perfection was Melody Morgan.

"Jane? No fucking way. That can't be Plain Jane."

Interrupting Jane's dancing, a blonde in a teeny bikini glared at her. Melody was your classic rich bitch, with the best toys, the most popular boyfriend, and a pair of fake tits bought by daddy as a graduation gift to add on to her natural beauty. All those blessings and she still chose to spend the last four years tormenting Jane.

The guy Jane was dancing with, Melody's boyfriend, Tristan, looked at her in confusion. "Plain Jane? Are you feeling okay, babe?"

"Hush!" She pulled her fingers across her lips like a zipper, and Tristan's voice cut out like he was muted. "I don't know what kind of trick this is, but... HEY! You took my necklace!"

Jane blinked, realizing what had happened. The charm necklace was Melody's. And with it, there came the realization that Melody's nice things weren't blessings; they were magic.

The realization dawned on her: what if this wasn't the first time Melody used magic to steal the luster from other girls?

"You little twerp. I'm going to turn you into the toad you are, then I'll take my... my neck..."

Melody was so arrogant, she didn't realize she was staring into the charms, falling under the power of a very pissed off Jane.

There was an element of intent with stealing from people, Jane realized. She wanted half of what made Dani so bold. She wanted most of Lily's beauty and allure.

But she wanted everything from Melody. The bitch didn't deserve any of it.

She didn't focus on herself because she wanted to watch Melody. She watched her thighs thin out and her curves flatten. The luster of her blonde hair went dull. The tact Jane used with Lily was gone as every bit of tit the bitch had, real or synthetic, dissolved until Melody's chest was as flat as the rest of her.

Looks weren't all Melody didn't deserve. Memories started vanishing, from her honors classes to her active dating history to the witchy rituals her aunt taught her when she came of age. She looked around at the beach as all the faces became strangers to the witch who was once the most popular girl in her class.

Eventually, the plain, uneducated, outsider came to her senses, looking around only to realize everyone on the beach was acting like she didn't exist. The only person who seemed amused by her was an absolute goddess rocking tattoos and long, shiny blue hair.

The guy behind the bluette bombshell had his hands all over her, disregarding the stick-figure girl. "Who's this, babe?"

The blue-haired witch grinned wickedly, filled with the elitist attitude she stole from a top mean girl. She'd stolen her rival's body, mind, and boyfriend. Dani wasn't a stickler for monogamy, and really, didn't she deserve a boyfriend and a girlfriend?

But that wasn't the only thing she took from her former bully. "I don't know, Tristan. Hey bitch, what's your name?"

It took the mundane young woman a second to even remember. "Oh, um. Jane Morgan?"

That made Jane, now Melody laugh. "Oh, Plain Jane! I knew her once, but she just sort of fell off the face of the Earth. Glad to see you've been up to nothing interesting, but this is actually a closed party."

Melody Gray fiddled with her necklace, the full moon charm now adorned with a brilliant diamond to complete her set. It sat above an almost cartoonishly large chest. Maybe she went a bit overboard, but daddy promised her a boob job, and Melody loved when every guy and girl on the beach couldn't help but stare.

The queen bee of the beach sighed, officially done with Jane. She wasn't a bully anymore; she wasn't anything. She was insignificant, and that was enough for Melody. "Run off and do... well, who cares, right?"

Jane ran off with tears in her eyes, grappling with a sense of loss she couldn't quite explain as she ran off to her unremarkable life. Melody, meanwhile, reveled in her boyfriend groping her as her new memories as the popular it girl and richest witch in town replaced a much less interesting life she was happy to leave behind.

(Thank you to my Sugar Patrons for helping me with another fun poll of suggestions! There was a tie, so that means you get attribute theft AND altification! The model used goes by Riae! Find ways to support me as a Sugar Patron on my Discord!)

#breast expansion #personality change #transformation kink #altification #bitchification #attribute theft #reality change #magical transformation

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novosg · 10 months

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Who’s Your Friend?

In which Miles’ sister meets a certain punk. And keeps meeting him….Much to her little brother’s dismay.

Ft: The Arachnakids, femMorales!reader,

Fluff, use of Y/N, sfw, written with a black reader in mind(reader is 18, Hobie is 19), 1.8k words, most likely gonna make a part 2

Your brother was Spider-Man.

That was an indisputable fact that had been bared to you over a year ago, not long after you had gotten the call that your uncle had died. Miles had been gone for hours, but when he finally came home he had hugged you so tight you thought your ribs were going to crack. He had practically broken down in your arms, chest heaving as he told you everything.

You knew how much Aaron had meant to him—he was Miles’ biggest confidant. And after losing that confidant, he decided to place his trust in you, another person who took up most of his heart. So, you decided to honor that trust by not breathing a word to your parents about what he had told you.

In the year following everything that happened, you and your brother had grown quite closer, what with him not having to hide such a huge part of himself around you. Though you were away at college for the most part, that never stopped Miles from updating you about the latest things he got up to as Spider-Man. Almost everyday he was calling or texting you about whatever villain he had come across.

All in all, you were quite used to Brooklyn’s more…interesting sights. Whether it be a gang of thugs trying to rob a jewelry store, a reptilian beast crawling up the side of a building being posted all over the news, or a guy whose wingspan was mechanically stretched way too far, you had felt like you’d seen it all.

Even now, you were hardly fazed to see your little brother crawling in through the living room window. You watched him casually, the pencil in your hand coming to a stop as he dropped to the floor, unaware of your presence as he slipped off his mask. He let out a small sigh, glancing around as if to check if the coast was clear.

You were back home for the week, spring break seeing to it that you got some much needed time with your family. Miles was well aware of this, along with the chance of your parents being at the house in the middle of the day was slim to none. Still, he could at least try to be subtle.

“Miles,” you finally said, biting back a grin as your brother shrieked and nearly jumped out of his skin. He whipped around, mask gripped in one of the fists he raised instinctively in front of him before realizing it was just you. He heaved out a sigh of relief as he lowered his hands.

“Y/n,” he groaned. “What are you doing here?”

You raised an unamused brow at him and gestured at the papers sprawled around you on the kitchen island. Though you were technically on break, your professor had seen to it that a project was to be completed before you returned.

Miles took one look at the mess before nodding in understanding. “Right,” he mumbled. “You’re not too busy, though, right? ‘Cause I gotta—”

“Miles!” A voice called from outside the window. Miles winced while you perked up. Someone dropped down from the roof, clad in a suit like your brother’s except hers was black and white with its own twist to it. The colors upon it were so delicate it was if you were looking at a pastel painting. Her face was covered but you could still see the shock in the eyes of her mask (how that was possible you didn’t know) when she caught sight of you. “Oh, I um, is this-”

“Yeah, this is—" Miles started nervously, only to be cut off by another, more accented voice:

“Miles you okay?” Another person, presumably another spider-person appeared, ducking his head down enough so that he could see into the apartment. “We heard a very girlish scream.”

That pulled a laugh out of you, one that earned you a glare from your brother. You could’ve swore you even heard a snicker from the girl. The new face practically bounded into the room, his bright, intricate suit causing you to let out a small hum of appreciation at the amount of detail. You locked eyes and he tilted his head curiously, but still waved politely. You smiled and returned the gesture to which he seemed pleased at.

“I’m fine, guys. It’s just my—” No voice came this time, rather a thud as someone dropped unceremoniously against the windowsill. Your brows furrowed as he climbed in as well, practically towering over the two standing beside him. His appearance was certainly…something. It was flashy, as if he had stepped right off of a newspaper clipping. Or at least that’s how it was until he…shifted colors? He turned pinkish as his hands moved to rest within his pockets, letting you take notice of the guitar slung around him. Not to mention his clothes, with their various patches, rips, and tears screamed ‘punk.’

Like the shorter boy next to him he tipped his head to the side once he spotted you. “Who’s—”

“I could tell you guys if you’d stop interrupting me,” Miles huffed. The guy grew quiet, removing his hands from his pocket to raise them in a placating manner. Miles gestured towards you before saying, “This is Y/n. She’s my sister. And she knows all about the whole…secret identity thing so don’t worry about—"

“Y/n! I’ve heard so much about you!” The girl cried, suddenly invigorated by Miles’ admission, she slipped her hood off and yanked off her mask. “I had a feeling but I wanted to be sure.” You blinked in surprise, recognizing the girl underneath.

“Gwen. I’ve…heard a lot about you too.” You’d certainly seen enough drawings. You cast your brother a knowing glance, which he quickly averted his eyes from.

A loud gasp escaped the shorter male and he too was taking off his mask. He seemed young, around the same age as Miles as he beamed at you.

“You have a sister? How is this just coming up now? It’s so nice to meet you!” He spoke very rapidly, obviously eager to breach the subject. He placed a hand on his chest, dipping his head at you in proper greeting. “My name is Pavitr Prabhakar. But, call me Pav, all my friends do.”

You smiled appreciatively and nodded. “It’s nice to meet you too, Pav.” That only garnered an even brighter smile from him; one that you were afraid would blind you if he got any happier.

The tallest one of them all, and the one who had yet to say anything at the newfound information, scratched at the back of his neck. He looked between you and Miles before letting his hand drop down to his side.

“Well that’s a bloody shock,” he muttered, his British accent causing your head to tilt curiously before he was taking his mask off as well.

You felt yourself physically pause as his face came into view and you hoped you didn’t look as starstruck as you felt.

As his color shifted to something more natural, his dark locs that seemed to come from some inexplicable space were enough to throw you for a loop. He seemed slightly older than the others, closer to your age if anything. On top of that he was…strikingly handsome. With dark skin and lidded, dim grey eyes that were accentuated by the silver piercings present on his face, he had left you stunned.

His nose scrunched briefly as he gave a quick shake of his hair. Once his eyes landed back on you he raised a brow and you reminded yourself to blink. He didn’t point out your blatant staring, but the slight curve to his full lips as he introduced himself was enough for you to internally chastise yourself.

“Name’s Hobie,” he said simply. You nodded but couldn’t help but frown thoughtfully.

“Hobie?” You parroted.

Gwen cut in for him, looking quite amused. “Hobart actually. He just prefers—”

“Hobie,” he concluded. Then, more sarcastically he said, “Thanks though, Gwendy.” She smirked, seeming pleased with herself.

“Got it,” you said softly. You sat up a bit straighter and offered up a smile. “Still, it’s nice to meet you. All of you.”

His gaze rested on you in a way that made you feel almost shy. His lips curled back up into a causal smirk as he nodded.

“Feeling’s mutual,” he replied and you could practically feel your dignity slipping away.

Miles, who had grown quiet as he let the others properly meet you, looked between you and Hobie, his brows furrowed in a way similar to yours as he watched the two of you interact. Whatever he saw was enough to cause him to clear his throat loudly.

“Well, uh, hate to rush, sis, but I just needed to grab some more cartridges.” You turned to look at him but he was already gone, scrounging around quickly for some extra webs. Not even a minute later, he was back in the living room, smiling almost sheepishly. “Got ‘em. Guess we’d better get going.”

Pavitr and Gwen were quick to voice their objections, but Miles paid them no mind. His eyes focused on Hobie, who had yet to look away from you. His gaze showed genuine interest, and the way you were matching said gaze with one of your own told Miles he needed to wrap this up quickly. Gwen followed his line of sight and, after the two of them locked eyes, she gave an understanding nod before heading towards the window.

“Yeah, better get back to it,” she said dismissively, a small grin on her face. “Pav, come on,” she hissed to the shorter boy who let out a disappointed groan.

“Fine. Bye, Y/n! Let’s talk more next time!” With that, he pulled his mask down and leapt out the window before swinging out of sight.

“Agreed. I’ve got so much I want to ask you. Next time though.” Gwen smiled warmly at you as she leaned out the window.

Hobie backed up slowly, head tilted almost playfully. “I’ll see you next time, yeah?”

You felt your heart flutter unfairly and breathed out a soft, “Yeah.” He perked up at that, but was suddenly yanked back by a web Gwen had latched on to his shoulder.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” he grumbled and then they both were gone. Miles followed after them, but stopped once he got to the window. He paused and looked back at you, a disapproving frown on his face.

You rolled your eyes even though your lips quirked up into a grin. “What?” You asked.

He was quiet for a second before saying, “Wipe that look off your face.”

You laughed and called after him, “What look?” just as he jumped through the window. You smiled softly to yourself as you looked back down at your work, mind and heart whirling.

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #x reader #reader insert #atsv #across the spiderverse #x black fem reader

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heartsoji · 1 year

Note

Hello. If Requests Are Open I Have One. Tsukishima, Suna And Kenma With A Reader Who Is Kinda On The Thicker Side (Thick, Not Chubby) So She Gets Sexualized And Catcalled A Lot

HQ BOYS WITH A CURVY S/O

a/n: yes! thank u sm for submitting a request ☺︎

warnings: swearing, guys (not the hq guys) way overstepping and making reader feel uncomfortable, fem reader

tsukishima, suna, and kenma x reader

TSUKISHIMA KEI

when something happens to you, he shows his protection subtly, but he really really cares about you

would attack the weirdos and people jealous of your body

he wouldn't be the "don't worry babe, i can fight" kind of attacking guy, but the "beat them up mentally until their spirit is broken" kind of attacking guy

you were doing your work diligently at your desk when suddenly, one of your male classmates stopped at your desk.

"goddamn, girl. being serious is great and all, but would it kill you to show a pained expression every now and then?" he rested his hand on your desk, covering part of your paper.

"pardon?" you asked, not quite comprehending.

"i mean," he smirked, "can't imagine what you'd be like under me if you're so serious all the time. have you ever even felt pain?" he paused. "i can show you great pain and pleasure, babe. just gotta say the word."

you froze, speechless. how were you supposed to respond to that? whilst you were trying to come up with a response, you saw kei getting up out of the corner of your eye.

"well, cutie?" your classmate grinned widely before sliding a finger down your back, making you cringe in disgust silently. "how about it?"

"i-"

"don't you have anything better to do?"

"huh?" the guy turned around to see kei towering over him, a nasty glare in his eyes.

"i said, 'don't you have anything better to do?' are you deaf, or just stupid?" kei asked, an annoyed expression present on his features.

"what the hell are you talking about? you're just a cocky brat, aren't ya?" the guy snarled. "man, i hate people like you. so much confidence with nothing to show for it."

kei paused. "i apologize. i was unaware that you hated yourself that much. things will get better, i promise." he mocked, patting the guys back, causing an angry vein to bulge out of the guy's forehead.

"haha, very funny." the guy muttered. "bitchy beanpole brat."

"alliteration! very good!" kei applauded with a smile before sending him a death glare that could freeze lava. "but seriously, are you such a loser that your ego won't allow a hit?" he then leaned into his ear. "she. isn't. interested. scram. you're just making a fool of yourself at this point."

the guy looked around and noticed everyone staring and whispering, clearly judging him for his creepy ways. he angrily stormed out of the classroom, with kei calling out a, "nice talk! let's do it again sometime," on his way out.

once the guy was fully out of the classroom, kei grabbed a chair and put it next to yours at your desk, plopping down his work as well.

"thanks, kei." you whispered a bit shakily.

he simply gave your hand a reassuring squeeze in response. "let me know if that loser gives you anymore trouble, ok?" he whispered back. "i'll beat him to a pulp." he followed up, a terrifyingly murderous intent in his eyes.

he then gave a smile, though it was still terrifyingly murderous-looking. "verbally, i mean."

SUNA RINTARO

another guy with a tongue that could slice boulders

hes not quite as mean tho, instead choosing to go with the more "protect my girl" stance rather than tsukkis "belittle them and make them feel like tiny little idiots who have no worth" stance

he'd try to embarrass the hell out of them

he's good at manipulating people, after all. he finds their weaknesses in an instant and uses it to his ultimate advantage

and also

he loves your curves

much

he'd definitely come over and like place his hand on your hip or ass or smth to mark his territory

bro hes the only one who gets to say how much he likes your ass?? um who tf is this other dude

he'd probs also try and cause a scene or incorporate humor to make you feel better

you were scared

a guy from the inarizaki cheering section had been staring at you ever since you entered

though you weren't absolutely positive, you felt like you could feel his eyes scanning your curves, and it made you feel like curling away in disgust

you'd lessened your cheering ever since you realized that the screaming made your tits bounce, and his eyes were practically burning a hole through them

once the game was over, you quickly dashed off from the stands to meet rin at the bottom, but the same guy met you down there

"so, hey, i was just thinking that you're like, really hot and have a great body, you know? and not to brag but i kinda have girls drooling on my abs left and right. if we got together, we'd be the ultimate power couple! whaddaya say, doll, hm?"

you scanned the room, looking for rin, but unfortunately, the coach was giving a talk, so rin wouldn't be able to come right away

"um, thank you for your offer, but i have a boyfriend." you politely declined.

he put his hand on your shoulder, and you could feel his thumb searching for your bra strap. you leaned away uncomfortably, but he gripped your shoulder and pulled you back.

"hey, now, its ok. don't think that i didn't see the way you were showing off these pretty assets of yours to me on the stands. you were practically shaking the things in my face! i can take a hint, you know. don't worry. i understand women. you were hinting at wanting to get with me, right? i get it! promise i won't be mad if we start dating the minute you break up with whatever loser you're with right now, doll. i don't need to wait."

"i-"

"hey, bun."

you whipped around to see suna rintaro not-so-gently shoving the guy off your shoulder and wrapping his arm around you, placing his hand right at the curve of your hip, giving you butterflies.

he directed his attention to the guy hitting on you. "'sup."

the guy stuttered for a few moments before regaining his cockiness. "this your girl? sorry, man, but she was actually just hitting on me. she aint loyal enough, i guess."

"the hell?! no i wasn-"

"she definitely wasn't." rin interrupted. "she'd never be into a piece of garbage like you."

a vein popped out of the guy's forehead. he grabbed the collar of rin's shirt.

"say that again."

rin opened his mouth, and for a moment, you thought that rin was going to retaliate, but instead, a piercing shriek ran through the air.

a baby's wail? a crying girl? a dropped mic? no, it was 6"1 inarizaki high middle blocker suna rintaro.

every head in the area turned, and suddenly, at the negative attention, the guy ran off in humiliation, calling out some insult towards you like "you weren't even that hot, by the way" on his way out.

once he was gone, suna picked you up and ran to somewhere with a bit more privacy

once he had found a spot he had deemed private enough, he engulfed you in the biggest, tightest hug, burying his head in your neck

"'m sorry that happened, bun." he murmured into your neck. "and 'm sorry that i interrupted you earlier, and i'm sorry that i wasn't there sooner, and im sorry that i didn't punch that guy in his pathetic, ugly-ass face."

you hugged him back. "it's ok, rin." you squeezed tighter. "i'm just glad you came."

"anyways, at any rate, he had no right to look in your direction, nonetheless insult you!" you felt his fists tighten. "pisses me off."

"and also," he added before moving his hand downwards to squeeze your ass, "i'm the only one allowed to call your body hot. everyone else can just fuck off"

you giggled and sighed into his locks. "ok, rin."

KOZUME KENMA

he wouldn't be one for words

he'd just glare daggers into the other guys body and then drag you away

he liked to call it a tactical retreat

"hey, what grade are you in?"

you looked up from your phone to see a group of what seemed to be some middle school boys circling around you, with what seemed to be their leader approaching you.

"pardon?" you were a bit taken aback. what was even going on?

"shy. cute, i'm into that." the boy smirked. "class 3-2, izumitate junior high soccer team captain, sato emiko."

you froze. junior high? you were being hit on by junior high boys?

you really tried not to, but suddenly, you burst out laughing. "sorry, sorry, but, well, junior high? i'm a 2nd year in highschool!"

you expected him to back down after that, but to your surprise, he kept going. "an older girl, huh.. well, it doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you. and if im being honest, i don't see why it would." he grinned cockily. "i am a catch, after all."

"sorry, i'm not interested." you declined, trying not to break his junior high heart.

to your surprise, he smirked and started approaching you. how cocky was this kid, anyways?

suddenly, he grabbed a handful of your thigh, though he was quickly met with a slap from you.

"come on," he said, walking towards you. "i know you want me."

but before he could reach for a handful of tit, he was interrupted by kenma shoving his way through the crowd.

he gently took your hand and smiled softly at you before glaring daggers at the boy and walking away.

"h-hey!" the boy stuttered, clearly a bit flustered. "you can't just walk away! who do you think you are?"

kenma turned his head to give another death glare that definitely sent chills down that kid's spine. yeah, the boy would definitely see that in his next nightmare.

once you two were out of earshot, kenma turned to you. "hey, you ok?"

you smiled warmly. "yeah. thanks for getting me, ken."

he turned away. "they were just a bunch of cocky middle schoolers. honestly, where do they get the nerve?"

the rest of the way home, kenma added in abrupt complaints about what had happened throughout the conversation. though he didn't say it, you knew that he was actually kind of scared to grab you out of there, despite the fact that the boys were "puny" and "weak," as kenma had described. you knew that though he wouldn't say, he was worried about you and was caring for you, in his own, unique, kenma way.

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slutforitoshi · 1 year

Text

sae itoshi - ring *:･ﾟ✧

ft. sae x f!reader, 18+ minors dni

cw: cheating/infidelity, fingering, unprotected sex, sae is mean, you will feel bad for rin but horny for sae

synopsis: you finally meet your future brother-in-law, and he is more than pleased to see you

wc: 2.04k

A/N: i wrote this right before my physio midterm hopefully there’s no typos oops

“sae that’s amazing!” his mother exclaimed in response to his news of him moving back to japan. a family dinner was called with some promise of a big announcement and this must have been it. you guessed sae wanted to tell his family before the media announced his relocation.

“what happened to mr. ‘I’m too good for japan,’” rin, your fiancee, sneered albeit jokingly. although you weren’t technically part of the family (yet), the itoshis insisted on having you over. this was the first time you’ve seen sae though. he was always abroad.

“well someone’s gotta humble you here,” sae rolled his eyes, reflecting the same energy back to his brother. you could see the resemblance. teal eyes, fair skin. all similar right down to their serious, deadpanned demeanor. the biggest difference was his hair, a light maroon color, swept up to reveal his forehead. you wondered if rin would ever style his similarly if you asked him…shit. he caught you looking for a little too long.

and he smirks. the heat rising to your cheeks does not make it any better and you quickly look away fiegning innocence. you try to make up excuses in your head, moreso to convince yourself than anyone else though. yeah, you were just looking because this was the first time you met him. it’s normal to be curious about someone new.

rin’s hands stir you from your thoughts, now settled on your own. the glimmering ring on your left hand, that you were prideful of, suddenly burned on your finger. like it was punishing you for your thoughts just minutes ago.

“so how long you guys been together?” sae asks pointedly at rin, although his eyes were fixed on you. you couldn’t look back directly, out of fear of the blush that might rise again.

“3 years? we’ve been engaged for about half a year though.”

“she’s pretty, i’d always known you had a good eye”, sae responds, still staring. it felt like a hole was being bored into your skull. and there was the blush you tried so hard to repress. he thinks you’re pretty. you suddenly felt like a schoolgirl, hearing that her crush might like her, too.

the conversation shifts away from you thankfully, giving you a second to finally breathe. calm down. that is his brother. you should not be feeling like this. your eyes betray you though, sneaking glances at sae. what was it about him that captivated you so much?

“hey, are you ok?” rin’s question jolts you back again, him noticing you haven’t really been present in current conversation. your surprise causes you to drop your spoonful of soup…right into your lap.

“oh my gosh,” you stumble over your words, embarrassed.

“it’s alright, do you want me to lend you a pair of pants?” his mom asks, so unaware of the sinful thoughts that were circling your head about her son (and not the one you’re engaged to).

“it’s okay!” you interject, “it’s only a small stain. it should come off with a bit of scrubbing”

you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom to clean up the mess. both on your pants and in your mind.

the faucet running quickly washes the stain and the thoughts away. you look down at your ring again. it’s beautiful, like your relationship. too beautiful to throw away over some silly thoughts. reassuring yourself, you focus back onto the spilled soup.

you hear the bathroom door handle turn, and you continue to scrub at the stain without looking up, assuming it’s just rin checking on you.

“hey,” a voice says. it’s not rin. his voice was more sultry, mature.

you look up and all the thoughts you’d work so hard to scrub away are crawling back.

“um hi…i was just about to go back out so you don’t have to-” your meek voice is cut off.

“does rin satisfy you?” he says bluntly. wow, right to the point huh.

“why is that any of your business?” you try to sound strong, but shift your gaze to the ground, scared that your composure might crumble if you look into those teal eyes.

“that’s not what it looks like to me,” sae says simply, stepping closer to you. your eyes stay fixed on the ground.

“you were practically begging me to fuck you through your pretty lashes. rin’s not the only one who has a good eye. who do you think trained him to read intentions?” he continues, seeing right through you.

“look, it doesn’t matter what I think. rin and I are engaged. i’m not throwing all that away for some stupid thoughts.” you stood firm, but the ring began to burn on your finger again.

“who said you had to throw it away? as long as you know how to keep secrets that is” he’s even closer to you now. one more step and he’d be able to touch you, and why did you not hate that?

you pursed your lips, unable to deny your attraction now. the ring was scalding against you, and a pit in your stomach began to grow. he took yet another step closer and now you can smell him. cologne. a deep scent, not too musky though…just how you liked it. your resolve was tearing at the seams.

“you better make your decision soon. not much longer until rin gets suspicious” sae half-cages you in, putting one arm past your waist to lean against the bathroom counter. you could easily go around the other side to exit, but as his cologne invades your surroundings, your thoughts surround you. and you lean in.

his hands move quickly to your sides, holding you tight now that you’ve made your decision. his strong arms hoist you up onto the counter where his hand once rested.

his lips were soft, but he kissed with such aggression which you happily reciprocated. your movements were driven by pure lust. desperation. when was the last time you felt like this? rin was a gentle lover most of the time, unless you pleaded with him to be a little rough.

“you better not be thinking of him right now. focus on me,” sae spat, as if reading your mind once again.

your pants were quickly pulled off, now damp in two places. his right hand was immediately in between, pulling the thin cloth to the side.

“you’re soaked,” he exasperates, and it was the first hint of a smile you’d seen all night. his lips were on you again, although you found it increasingly difficult to kiss back. not when his fingers were circling your clit at a fervent speed. then, they entered, earning a gasp from you.

“s-so full” you stutter at the sudden entry.

“you’re so fucking tight. How are you going to take my cock,” he mutters, mostly to himself. you could only respond in moans, not even caring if they could reach the dining table where the rest of the family sat. sae seemed to care though, clamping his free hand over your mouth so that only muted vibrations could escape.

two fingers became three, and you welcomed the stretch. sae had clearly done this before, being able to curl them to hit just the right gummy spot that took rin months to even find.

you could feel the coil in your stomach tighten. if he continued, you would surely reach your first orgasm of the night. he doesn’t give you that luxury though. you’re on a time crunch, remember?

he takes his palm off your mouth, and reaches down to fumble his belt buckle open. and then you’re met with his cock. you could understand why he was concerned about you being able to take it now.

you let out a small whine as his fingers left you, but it was quickly replaced with his thick girth. at least he was gentle with the entry. but he barely gives you a second to take it in before he started moving.

his hands now gripped your waist tightly on both sides, fucking you with such conviction. you felt like your were being used, and you relished in it.

“fuck. it’s not fair; rin keeping this perfect fuck toy to himself,” he muttered to himself again. he wasn’t as vocal as rin you noted, limiting himself to the occasional grunt or deep, breathy moan.

“s-sae”, it was difficult to get much words out.

“slow down you’re going to break me,” you utter, even though you knew he had no intention of doing so.

“break then. let everyone know what a fucking slut you are throwing yourself onto your fiancee’s brother,” he challenges you. his cruel words sent a chill down your spine, right into the heat where he currently thrusted in and out of.

the sounds of his rough pounding filled the room, complimented by your higher pitched moans. his right hand moved from your waist and placed itself at your clit, rubbing fast circles, earning even louder sounds from you.

“do I need to shut you up again,” he growled, but not stopping his ministrations. his thrusts became sporadic and irregular, a sign you knew as being close. you started clamping harder onto his cock, attempting to milk out every last drop.

“f-fuck, don’t stop doing that,” he recognizes your attempts, and any guilt that he could have about betraying his brother left his mind (not that he had much in the first place).

he quickly pulls out, spilling his seed all over your thighs and stomach. after catching his breath, he stands back and gives you another smirk, rather proud of the mess he made you into. as if on cue, your session is cut by a familiar voice.

“you good in there?” rin calls from outside. your eyes widen, panicked.

“i’m fine! just uh fixing up some makeup!” you called back, coming up with an excuse. you quickly take toilet paper, wiping up your body, frantically hiding any evidence. looking around, your eyes settle onto the bathtub.

“hide in there quick!” you whisper-shout, practically pushing sae behind the curtains.

you pull up your discarded pants, trying to ignore the pool that was still in between your legs you forgot to wipe up. you manage to button them right before rin turns the handle.

“what took you so long?” he comes up behind you, pressing a kiss onto your temple. you give a meek smile in return, hoping he couldn’t hear your hammering heart.

“oh the stain was harder to get out than I thought, and I wanted to touch up my makeup since it smeared a little” you lied.

“really? I didn’t notice.” he guides you out of the bathroom, and you let out a breath of relief thankful that he didn’t suspect anything.

“oh by the way have you seen sae? he said he was going to bring you some stain remover he had on him,” rin asks, and your breath hitches.

“o-oh yeah he stopped by. i got the stain out mostly by then so I told him I didn’t need it,” you hoped that sounded natural enough, “maybe he’s taking a call or something,” adding an alibi.

“yeah he must be busy with the new move,” rin concluded.

“let’s head back soon I’m a little tired”, you suggested, knowing dinner was about over anyways. it technically wasn’t a lie, you were tired (from being fucked like a whore).

“good thinking, the drive’s a bit long anyways.” he clasps his right hand around your left, and your attention is brought back to the ring which started to grow uncomfortably warm against your finger again.

~~~

“you coming to bed?” rin asks, already brushed up and ready for sleep.

“yeah just wanted to hang up some clothes”, you call back from the closet. as you put the hanger around the coat you wore for the night, you noticed a corner poke out of its pocket. you pulled the sheet out.

we’re not finished yet, i still need to make you cum XXX-XXX-XXXX

you rip up the paper until the text was no longer legible, discarding it in the nearest trashbin.

but not before the digits were seared into your head, just like the ring that has been searing your finger all night.

#blue lock #blue lock smut #bllk #bllk smut #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae smut #sae #sae smut #rin #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #sae itoshi smut #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader

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etoiile · 3 months

Text

THINGS THEY SAY BEFORE KISSING YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME

starring itoshi sae, mikage reo, and isagi yoichi!

a request from an anon! (x fem!reader, as per requested)

notes: ANON IM SO SORRY THIS HAS BEEN DONE FOR FOREVER I JS FORGOT TO POST IT AHHH ✧ um my favoritism is showing itself in length.. ✧ BYE I HAD TO MAKE A HS MUSICAL REFERENCE AT THE END LOLL

ITOSHI SAE "you talk too much."

you had somehow snuck sae into your house underneath the noses of your incredibly strict parents. it was a full moon that night, and you two sat on your bed as you talked about everything under the sun, and he simply listened intently.

you were talking about something funny that had happened in class that day when suddenly, sae heard footsteps coming up the stairs. of course, you didn't hear it over the sound of your own voice, but sae, ever the observant one, picked up on it immediately.

"y/n. shut up!" he whisper yelled, worried your parents would hear you talking and come to check on you.

"hang on," you replied, still completely unaware of your potential doom. "im getting to the good part. and so then, the teacher gets up and-"

the footsteps were getting closer and sae is starting to panic. this is not how he wanted to meet your parents.

"y/n! quiet!" he hushed urgently, trying to get you to quiet down.

"hold on, sae. he then LOOKED HIM RIGHT IN THE EYE AND PROCEEDED TO-"

growing desperate now, sae suddenly came up with an idea.

he leaned in closer to you, and you instantly stopped talking, your voice dying in your throat. your face burned at the intense proximity and you were nervously staring back into his bold teal eyes, not really knowing what was going on.

"...sae?" you squeaked, your voice small.

sae brushes your hair out of your face tenderly before gently gripping your waist.

"you talk too much."

he then quickly pressed his lips to yours, his other hand finding place at the crook of your neck. you kissed him back instantly, throwing your hands into his pinkish hair.

sae's kiss is tender and extremely loving. he's not a man of many words; he says everything he needs to with his actions. and at that moment, as he deepened the kiss and rubbed his hands up and down your back soothingly, you could hear him saying, "i love you."

when he pulled away, there was a whole storm of butterflies in your stomach, and you were a little breathless.

"what... was that?" you panted, a little winded.

he simply chuckled and pulled you into his chest.

"you're so stupid."

"...?"

":)"

(he's the stupid one, really.)

MIKAGE REO "i love you."

reo has had plenty of experiences with girls who merely wanted him for his fame and money. he would take them out for dinner at an expensive restaurant, and they'd be all nice and sweet, but then he'd take them out for a heartfelt, well thought-out date, and they'd be cold and distant. it broke his heart, and he would constantly wonder if he'd ever be able to find someone who loved him for him. he wondered that if he didn't have his fame and wealth, would he have ever been able to find someone who wanted him?

you had been going out with reo for around two months now, and everything was going great. reo was great. he was kind, caring, charismatic, funny, charming, and overall a great guy. you two had met through a mutual friend and hit it off really well. reo had taken you out to some nice restaurants, and you'd also hung out at each other's places, and he found himself really, really liking you.

reo had to admit that he was scared. you seemed like such a great girl, and he feared that you might be just like the rest. just like the girls who had used him, who had welcomed him in and then crushed his heart, who he had truly believed liked him for him, but it didn't end up being true in the end. he knew that he gave his heart to people too easily, but he still did it each and every time. at the end of it, all he could do was hope for the best.

reo took a deep breath as he stood outside your door. he had prepared a heartfelt picnic date for the two of you, and he could feel his hands getting all clammy as he knocked a few times.

you stepped out and reo's voice got stuck in his throat. you looked stunning. you were wearing a simple white beachy dress, your hair blown out and your makeup done cute. it wasn't as extravagant or bold as some of the other looks reo had seen you in, but the first thought that came to his head was still "beautiful."

he quickly cleared his throat and regained his composure. "gorgeous as always, y/n." he grinned, still taking you in.

you giggled. "i hope so. 'surprise' is hard to dress for, reo."

"you look perfect." he chuckled in response.

reo's heart was racing as he began walking you to the picnic location where he had set everything up. he had spent over an hour laying everything out and making sure it looked perfect, and don't even get him started on the time it took to prepare everything in advance. this would be the first time he'd ever done something so heartfelt and homemade for you, and he had to admit that the thought that maybe you would turn your nose up in disgust like everyone else crossed his mind.

once you arrived, reo let out a shaky little ta-da as he nervously watched for your reaction. when you at first had none, he felt his heart dropping at the thought that he was right. you were like everyone else. you hated it and you were going to leave him.

that thought was only magnified when you started crying. reo began panicking, wondering how bad he could've messed up to make you cry. his panic quickly turned to shock and relief, though.

"this is... perfect, reo. i love it. it's beautiful. this must have taken you forever." you turned to face him. "i am so, so lucky to have you. thank you."

reo felt a wave of relief and also adrenaline wash over him as he engulfed you in a tight hug. as he held you in his arms, he knew what he was feeling right now was more than just liking you.

he gently held your face in his hands as he gazed into your eyes lovingly. he leaned in closer to your face as his heart raced faster than it ever had before.

"i love you."

he crashed his lips against yours, heart soaring when he felt you kiss him back. he almost felt like crying with how overwhelmed by his emotions he was. he deepened the kiss as he tilted you back, holding you tightly in his arms still. he'd never loved a feeling more than the feeling of your lips on his. he kissed you with passion and intensity, yet it still so full of love and affection.

when you both finally pulled away, breathless, holding each other in your arms and staring into each other's eyes, reo was still hungry for more, but he held back, awaiting your response.

you lovingly bump your forehead against his, relishing the moment.

"i love you too.'

rest assured that reo wastes no time in kissing you once more. (or twice. or three times.)

ISAGI YOICHI "can i?"

isagi yoichi was RAISED RIGHT.

he understand the importance of consent!! fear not ladies!!

you both were at a party with your friends, and for some reason, while everyone else was playing drinking games and living it up, you guys were playing truth or dare.

what were you, 10?

everyone had been mostly doing a lot of truths so far, (with the exception of bachira, who was willing to do practically anything) but people were now finally starting to pick dare. kunigami had belly flopped into a hot tub, (he was practically crying for like 15 minutes) chigiri had sent a dm to a girl he liked admitting his feelings, (please be me please be me please be me) and reo had drunk the most disgusting blend of alcohol know to mankind.

"isagirin!" bachira exclaimed, pointing a finger at isagi. "truth or dare?"

isagi hesitated. "dare."

everyone 'ooo'-ed, seeing as this was his first dare. bachira mulled it over for a minute before giving him a boyish grin.

"isagirin." he stated seriously. "i dare you to..."

everyone held their breath.

"..kiss the prettiest girl in the room."

everyone, even nagi, who was basically half asleep on reo's arm, gasped immediately. isagi's face went bright red and you suddenly felt your heart pounding.

you didnt think it was going to be you. that was stupid. you and isagi were just friends. there's no way he would ever kiss you. don't delude yourself. dont be delulu, see the trululu. (im sorry)

isagi shot bachira a dirty glare as he stood up, his legs practically shaking. you didn't know why you were so nervous. there was no way it would be you, right? you doubted that he actually reciprocated your silly little crush on him.

oh. he's walking in your direction? well.. lets see. there's a really pretty girl behind you, but she's practically grinding into some other random guy, so that's probably not it. he's getting closer? there's probably some really hot girl at the other end of the party who you just can't see. he's making eye contact with you? ok ok, don't sweat it. don't panic. why is your face getting so red? you're being so obvious! he's not into you! he's isagi yoichi! he's just a friend! he's... kneeling right in front of you...?

your heart was pounding as isagi nervously leaned in. he gently swept the hair from your face and nervously mumbled, "can i?"

all you could do was nervously nod.

isagi gently kissed you sweetly, and you felt yourself melting into him. oh my god, this was really happening! when he pulled away he nervously averted his eyes, and you did the same, flustered.

the sounds of everyone's cheers and whoops and 'finally's got softer as isagi met your gaze, and it felt like you two were the only people in the world. you two would talk it out later, but for now, you could feel in your heart that this was the start of something new.

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 3 months

Text

As You Wish | Neil Lewis x fem!reader

Summary| You've had your eye on Neil for a while now and Neil's friends can tell but Neil isn't so sure until you come into Gumshoe Video with a boy on your arm with horrible taste in date-night cinema. When the date goes awry, Neil jumps to action.

Warning| Age gap, reader (19) and Neil (27), rudeness, flirting, touching, Neil being a little creepy, Neil's dubious consent, talk of virginity and inexperience, kissing, blowjob.

Mastermind- Taylor Swift (yeah, I said it) 🎵

Colorblind- Counting Crows 🎶

word count: 4933k

*sentences in italics are quotes from The Princess Bride (1987)

Please read warnings before continuing- thanks!

“That kid keeps coming around. If you’re not careful she’s gonna fall in love and you’ll be in deep shit,” Lucien fixed the thick frame of his glasses on his angular nose and returned the fake pipe to his mouth.

“Why don’t you shut up, Lucien. It’s not like that. Just keep your weird thoughts to yourself in my store.” Neil called over his shoulder as he stocked the shelves with returned VHS tape sleeves. He ran his elbow over his forehead, wiping away the thin layer of perspiration.

“Everyone’s thinking it…” Lucien raised his hands in defense and Neil rolled his eyes. Jonathan came in from Neil’s office holding a milkcrate full of new movies, still wrapped in plastic. Neil whistled at him.

“Jonathan, do you think that girl likes me?” Neil shot Lucien a look as Jonathan answered.

“Oh yeah, 100% dude.”

“What, no! Jonathan, you were supposed to say no.” Neil spoke with his hands, slapping his hand against his face. Lucien chuckled and Jonathan looked between them, confused.

“What? Neil, did you want me to lie or something?” Jonathan put down the milkcrate and leaned against the checkout counter.

“He’s blissfully unaware of how much that girl likes him.” Lucien sucked on the empty pipe and coughed, swallowing his spit the wrong way.

“How? Neil, she comes by like twice a week to talk to you and shows up at all of our softball games.”

“She’s only nineteen! For all I know, she just wants a job here one day.” Neil shrugged and went back to stocking the shelves, a blush creeping into his high cheekbones.

“Sure she wants a job here if it means that she gets to fucking talk to you everyday, all day about classic films and shit!” Jonathan laughed.

“She’s nice!” Neil exclaimed defeatedly and massaged his eye sockets.

“Yeah, so’s my aunt but she doesn’t come around here every week to tell me about the latest movie she’s watched.” Lucien mumbled.

“That wasn’t as effective as you think it was,” Jonathan sighed, then just to Lucien, “don’t use a family member next time, ok?”

“Ok, OK!” Neil interrupted them, shaking his hands. “It’s not like that and she doesn’t like me like that. I’m like eight years older than her…”

“That’s never stopped people before,” Lucien reminded Neil and he withheld a few choice expletives as the shop door opened and a customer came in. The bell twinkled and Neil called out the familiar greeting.

“Welcome to Gumshoe Video!”

“Hi, Neil.” Y/N smiled shyly. Lucien and Jonathan’s quiet snickers stopped as a second customer entered after the girl. “This is Woody. Woody, this is Neil.”

“Hey, how’s it going?” Woody waved to Neil and his friends on the back couch. They waved back in shocked silence.

“What happened to you?” She asked, recoiling away from the employees who stared at her as if they’d seen a ghost. Neil blushed, still embarrassed.

“I was just not looking forward to telling you that we lost the copy of um, The Virgin Suicides that you wanted. It’ll take another few weeks and I assume that’s why you stopped by.” Neil scrambled for a reliable answer, and one that was partly true. She blushed slightly when she heard Neil use the word ‘virgin’ and laughed it off.

“It’s ok, I just wanted to show Woody my favorite place.”

“We’re going to get a movie,” Woody smiled and began to scan the shelves.

“Sooo what do you like? Classic horror, westerns, Spike Lee, Hitchcock, Coppola?” Neil listed off categories of films he viewed to be superior and Woody shook his head, oblivious to Neil’s edged tone.

“I like action movies mainly. I haven’t seen much else.”

Neil smiled at the girl’s embarrassed reaction. He knew well that she didn’t like action movies and refused to watch them even if Neil recommended one.

“So like war movies?”

“Sports movies.” Woody corrected and pretended to shoot a basketball. “Anything about football or basketball.”

Neil felt a sharp pain in his chest at the boy’s words. He was a walking abomination to the film community. Lucien made a sound similar to a whimper and Neil cleared his throat to mask it.

“Well uh i’m sure that we can find something for you though we don’t tend to carry sports movies because we have so little demand for it,” Neil explained blandly. “Have you ever seen anything by Tarentino? His movies tend to be more action-oriented. That and the old Bond movies.” Neil started to list movies he was almost completely sure Woody had not seen. Every shake of Woody’s head scratched a strange itch inside his head. What was this girl doing with someone like Woody?

“Ah maybe,” Woody shrugged. “Do you have Rudy, Bull Durham, Remember the Titans?”

“No, we don’t.” Neil pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled stiffly. “We do have the Air Bud movies,” Neil mumbled as a joke but Woody looked interested.

“Where’s that?” He asked, looking around the store.

“The kid’s section. It’s about a dog that plays sports,” Neil deadpanned and Jonathan and Lucien stifled their giggles.

Woody was completely oblivious to Neil’s pointed comment and shrugged.

“Sounds good to me,” he looked at the girl with a smile. Her lips were parted in a look of displeasure and shock.

“You want to watch Air Bud?” She stressed the name of the movie like a bad word. Woody smiled, still not catching the tone of dislike in her speech.

“Um…” She started and trailed off, totally caught off guard. Neil smiled, almost enjoying the direction that this interaction had gone.

“I’ll get it for you,” Neil used his best customer service voice and turned around. He widened his eyes at Jonathan and Lucien, I told you so. Lucien narrowed his eyes behind his glasses, not wanting to admit defeat just yet.

“Sooo are you two dating,” Lucien tried to sound casual but his tone was suggestive and Y/N blushed deeply from embarrassment.

“No, we’re just friends,” she answered too quickly and Neil glowered at Lucien. Jonathan looked down at his hands, wanting to stay out of the conversation. Woody looked at her and frowned.

“Well on that note, I think I’ll just get going. Forget about the movie, dude. Thanks anyway,” Woody snipped and left the store abruptly. The bell beside the door clanged loudly as he walked down the sidewalk, fumming.

“Lucien!” Neil exclaimed and Jonathan swatted Lucien’s arm.

“Sorry…geez!” Lucien deflected Jonathan’s hands and scooted away. Neil, holding a copy of Air Bud on VHS, lowered it and slid it onto the checkout counter.

“Sooo no more Air Bud?” Neil tried to break the awkward silence. She gave him a look that quieted him immediately and left the store, going the opposite way that Woody had turned. She went around the side of the building where she knew there was a shabby basketball goal and a place to sit. She wanted to wait it out, to make sure that she wouldn’t run into Woody again that afternoon. It was safer to hide here than walk home.

“Nice going, Lucien.” Neil sighed and returned the tape to the shelf.

“You just fucking ruined young love,” Jonathan quipped and Lucien gasped defensively. Neil joined them on the long section couch and they sat in silence for a while. A loud bang made them all jump.

“What the hell was that?” Jonathan turned to look where the sound had come from. The three of them stood to investigate. The second time they heard it, the shelf of tapes on the wall was josuled. They each jumped again and Neil drew his face up into a tight line.

“Is someone throwing something against the wall?” Lucien surmised and spoke with his pipe in his palm.

“I’ll check it out,” Neil looked at the shelf warily and backed away. He left the store and went around the side of the building. Seeing Y/N made him jump again and he clutched his chest briefly. She had a basketball and was chucking it at the hoop without much care for whether or not it went in. The ball hit the wall again. Jonathan and Lucien collected the tapes that had fallen off of the shelf only to have more tapes fall on their heads.

“Maybe you should watch more sports movies, it might help you with your technique.” Neil crossed his arms casually across his chest and smiled. She dribbled the basketball slowly and caught it in her arms.

“It was more of an exercise of rage,” she spoke between heavy breaths.

“Sorry about Lucien,” Neil gestured to the store. “He’s not great with people.”

“I could tell… but I’m not really upset about it-”

“You fooled me,” Neil interjected with a laugh. She rolled her eyes with a small smile.

“He gave me an out but it wasn’t the right time. I shouldn’t have said it like that to Woody.” She dribbled the basketball again.

“So were you dating?” Neil opened his hands, signaling her to throw him the ball.

“Kind of,” she tossed him the ball and shrugged, “we’d gone out once or twice. We met at a party. Nothing was official yet.” Neil aimed and threw the ball, it fell through the hoop with a quiet whoosh before bouncing on the pavement below. She retrieved the ball and with one hand, she fixed the legs of her shorts, pulling them down over her thighs. He looked away quickly.

“Did you know his taste in movies before you started going out?” Neil asked and watched as she aligned herself to toss the ball. It bounced off of the backboard and spun into the hoop. Neil applauded and she smiled.

“He said he liked action movies but I didn’t know that he meant… sports movies. He’s a business major and I doubt he’s ever taken a film class or seen anything that wasn’t about sports in some way.” She nearly shivered. “And you had to suggest Air Bud?” She asked him pointedly and he pursed his lips defensively.

“That was not an actual suggestion. I can’t believe he fell for it,” Neil dribbled the ball around his legs lazily and circled her before shooting. He missed and she giggled. “I think you dodged a bullet,” he told her honestly and when they held eye-contact, he felt his navel twitch.

“Could you imagine if I had to watch Air Bud on a date?” She looked down at the ball and missed the hoop by a few feet. She sighed and fanned herself. This is exactly what she had been hoping would happen. She wouldn’t go as far as to say that she was a mastermind but she’d been trying to get closer to Neil for weeks. She’d liked Woody enough but taking him to Gumshoe Video was more strategic than cute. She hoped to make Neil a little jealous, and show him that she could get other guys. Nothing had actually happened between her and Neil besides long chats and lots of laughter. Maybe she could change that.

Neil picked up the ball and bounded over to the hoop, jumping and shooting the ball. His fingers pushed the ball into the net as he landed back down on the ground. When he turned his eyes widened slightly.

“It’s really fucking hot today,” she mumbled as she pulled off her t-shirt, having just a camisole underneath. Her cutoff denim shorts and black camisole left little to the imagination but Neil still tried. She tossed the shirt to the side and dribbled the ball, her eyes focused on the goal. Neil looked down her camisole, staring at her chest as her breasts shifted beneath the fabric in her bra. Her pink bra straps slipped on her shoulders and after shooting the ball, she had to snap them back into place. He blushed more and looked away. She crossed the small makeshift court and sat on the shallow ledge beside the store, swinging her legs up and underneath her. Neil held the ball awkwardly in his hands and approached her slowly.

“What movie would you watch on a first date?” She asked him.

“Uh,” his mind blanked, “definitely Air Bud,” he nodded and she laughed. He sat beside her and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Neil! I’m being serious!” She pressed the toe of her foot against her chest.

“Ok, ok ummm,” he wrapped his fingers around her bare ankle with a smile and moved it back to the ledge in between them. She shifted her body so that she was facing him, both feet planted on the ledge in front of him. “Maybe The Wizard of Oz.”

“Why?” She asked with a soft smile. He rocked back and forth, using his hands to support himself. His large hands sat on either side of her feet, his chest directly over her knees.

“Well it was one of the first movies to use color,” he said first, “and it would give me a chance to brag about how much I know about film.” He pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows. She laughed and shook her head.

“I thought you hated musicals!” She protested and he looked away sheepishly.

“I do but I can’t pass up an opportunity to impress someone, especially a girl.” He looked at her and then blushed, looking away again. “I mean,” he started and she nodded.

“No, I get it. Do you like romance movies?” She fluttered her lashes discreetly, making Neil second guess whether she had done it intentionally or not. “You don’t seem like one but we all have our secrets,” she dragged her hand up her leg, drawing his attention to the contours of muscle beneath her shin bone.

“You could argue that every movie is a romance,” Neil sputtered slightly, collecting himself.

“Even Air Bud?” She asked with a raised eyebrow and he scoffed, looking away.

“I don’t know about that.”

“What’s your favorite romance movie?” She rested her forearms on her knees and leaned forward. He looked at her briefly, his eyes dipping to her cleavage before meeting her eyes again.

“Uh w-what?” He asked and she giggled.

“What’s your favorite romance movie?” She asked again and he thought quickly.

“The Princess Bride,” his eyes flicked to her’s for approval and that surprised him.

“I love that movie,” her eyes widened as she recalled the plot.

“What about you?”

“Well The Princess Bride is the best answer but I like The Great Gatsby too,” she smiled shyly.

“The Great Gatsby is a tragedy at heart,” Neil argued and she shrugged.

“As you wish,” she quoted from The Princess Bride and his eyes flicked open wider for one second before he cleared his throat. The sun was starting to set and the sky bled with a sated orange color. She looked up at the sky, showing the vulnerable underside of her chin and swallowed. Neil watched, letting his eyes wander over the soft expanse of flesh.

“We should probably go inside,” Neil broke the silence, “or I-I should go back.” He jerked his thumb back to the store and she lowered her head again and let her head fall to one side.

“As you wish,” she said again and laughed. He watched her silently and licked his lips. He felt like he was going to say something but no words came to his mind as he sat there.

“Or do you want to come inside? Sorry, I’m not trying to get rid of you…”

“Ok, sure.” She nodded and followed him around the store, pulling on her big shirt again. Jonathan and Lucien were arguing inside but stopped when they walked inside.

“Basketball game?” Lucien asked over his pipe and Y/N nodded with a sigh.

“Sorta, I had to blow off some steam.”

“He’s sorry by the way,” Jonathan added and Lucien started to argue but she cut them off.

“It’s ok. You saved me a night watching Air Bud.” She winked and started to browse the aisles again. Jonathan shoved Lucien.

“What? What’s your problem?” Lucien protested and Jonathan gestured to the door, hinting that they should leave. “You have to be joking,” he muttered under his breath, irritated.

“Hey uh, Neil?” Jonathan cleared his throat. Neil broke his obvious concentration on the girl and looked at his friends on the couch.

“Yeah?”

“We’re gonna head out. Lucien owes me a beer and I want to beat the bar rush,” Jonathan grabbed Lucien by the shoulders and shuffled out the front door.

“It’s not even seven yet-” Neil started but they were gone before he could finish. His heart started beating quickly and he glanced anxiously at the disappearing silhouettes of his friends. The girl walked through the aisles, biting her bottom lip slightly as she looked. He didn’t want to be alone like this with her, it felt weird. She was young enough to be his younger sister and it irked him… and yet, she looked so pretty beneath the yellowish fluorescent bulbs inside the store and her hair was sticky from the humidity.

“We should watch something,” she said quietly behind a rack of VHS and Neil cleared his throat.

“Together?”

“No, in separate rooms… yeah of course together.” She laughed lightly and showed him the movie she had found. He chuckled and shrugged.

“The Princess Bride? Ok, sure.” He approached the small box tv in front of the sectional couch and inserted the tape. Y/N slipped discreetly to the front doors and turned over the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’ and locked the door. Neil stood behind the couch and set up the box player, struggling with the buttons on the remote. She collapsed on the couch and rested her legs on the wide ottoman. Her hair spread over the back of the couch and covered Neil’s hand. He looked down at it and struggled to exhale normally. The movie started and she wiggled in excitement. Neil sat on a stool behind the couch, worried about sitting beside her. After the first ten minutes of them each reciting the lines back to the tv, she looked over her shoulder, flashing a toothy grin.

“Neil, come on, sit with me. It’s weird to have you looking over my shoulder like that.”

“Um I- uh yeah ok,” Neil stammered and joined her hesitantly on the couch, his hands between his knees. His longer hair brushed the tops of his shoulders and she resisted the urge to sweep a strand into her hand. Slowly he relaxed and they acted to each other as well as to the tv, adapting the characters they liked best. As the movie went on, she braved looking over at him more and holding his startling eye contact. They laughed hard at one scene and bent over with laughter, shifting their bodies closer in the process. Eventually they were nearly arm-to-arm on the worn brown sectional. Neil’s breath escaped in pained bursts as he looked at her thigh, relaxed on the couch beside his leg. Her shorts had creeped up to her crotch as they sat and she’d made no move to pull them back down. He caught himself staring at the crease at her crotch and wondering if the tightness was uncomfortable for her, how warm the material would be against her like that… he shook his head to clear his thoughts and clenched his jaw when he felt his cock twitch.

“Neil?” She turned slightly to him and his breath hitched as he turned his attention to her. She bit her lip lightly and slowly pressed herself up onto her knee. He watched her, his eyes flicking between the tv and her face, inches from his face.

Hear this now: I will always come for you.

She exhaled softly and her breath rippled across his face. Her hands inched closer to his stomach clothed beneath his light blue shirt. Her bright eyes intoxicated him as she brought her lips to his, offering herself. When she kissed him, her eyes squeezed closed and she sucked briefly on his bottom lip, lacking technique from her barely nonexistent experience. When she pulled away slowly Neil’s brow creased as his brows flew up.

“Y/N… we uh we shouldn’t.”

But how can you be sure?

Her eyes crinkled in embarrassment and her small cheeks flushed. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she whispered and sat back against the couch, pressing her sweaty palms against her thighs. Neil looked over at her and licked his lips, fighting an internal argument against himself.

This is true love- you think this happens everyday?

She flexed her thighs anxiously on the couch and the movement sent a shock up Neil’s body, making his crotch throb slightly, weary from the close proximity to her warm skin.

You mock my pain.

Neil brushed a shaky finger down the side of her thigh and felt her inhale quickly. She looked at him slowly, her lips parted. His hand slid up her body to her head and cupped her cheek. He leaned over and kissed her, not harshly but not subtle either. Their lips popped wetly when he pulled away. He looked down at her, she was panting slightly, her heart fluttering in her chest.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” Neil whispered and fell back into the couch beside her, clenching his fists. They sat in silence, their breath mingling in the space between them like a mixture of heat waves. Neil smelled faintly of mint mouthwash and musk, the sweat worked up during their “game” clung to his body.

Life is pain, princess. Anyone who says differently is selling something.

And quick as a flash of lightning, their bodies flew together, their mouths finding each other like opposite ends of a magnet or a cap over a pen. She climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips and held his head in her small hands. He wrapped his arms around her waist, bunching the fabric in his hands. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and he greeted it with enthusiasm, his hands tightening around her waist. She licked his lips as she closed down around them, sucking everything out of him. He moaned softly against her kiss and his arms flexed, his cock hardening. She gasped when she felt him get hard against her crotch. He broke their kiss abruptly.

“Fuck, sorry.” He loosened his grip on her waist and went to shift out from under her. “I didn’t mean to get…” he trailed off and moved her off his lap easily. She watched him, her mind already caught in a lapse.

“This was a mistake. You’re in college. I shouldn’t have encouraged this,” he dragged his hands through his dark hair and pulled at the roots, mumbling incoherently as she looked up at him, her eyes wide like a doe. The front of his pants tented out and he started to walk to his office. She jumped and grabbed his hand, catching him before he disappeared into the backroom.

“Please, stay.” She whispered and bit her lip, dispelling some of her pent up energy into the action.

“You’re too young.”

“I’m nineteen.”

“I’m too old for you.”

“You’re 27.”

“You’re a virgin.”

She flushed redder and looked away, embarrassed. “Not really.” She looked back at him and shrugged. “We all have our secrets, right?” She cocked her head and tried to smile, her heart beating so fast that she felt dizzy.

“I don’t know…” Neil added half-heartedly, having run out of reasons. “The customers!” Neil remembered and glanced, panicked, at the front doors.

“You closed early.” She smiled embarrassedly and rubbed his wrist with her thumb. “Please,” she tried again and he looked down at her. His cock throbbed uncomfortably in his pants. He allowed her to lead him back to the couch and watched as she lowered herself onto her knees. Her hands rested on his thighs as she opened his legs wide enough to sit between them. He watched dumbly as she unbuckled his belt and slowly unzipped his fly. She tugged down the crotch of his jeans, exposing the waistband of his checkered boxers.

“Wait,” Neil blurted and she looked up at him, “come here.” He asked softly and waited as she rose to her feet, her hands moving to his chest as she leaned closer. He pulled her back onto his lap, straddling her over his lap and kissed her, lapping at her mouth with his tongue. His small biceps flexed around her, his hands finding her hair and wrapping his fingers in it hungrily. She sat up on her knees and pressed her crotch against his chest, making him sit up taller to reach her mouth. She whimpered softly as he kissed her as if he was eating her, slowly getting deeper. His kisses felt so good on their own that she almost moaned into him, licking the tip of his nose. She licked the edge of his jaw and he let her, savoring the immature way she approached tasting him. His hands supported her back as she panted, bucking her hips against his chest as she kissed him feverishly. Racks of tapes shielded them from view but Neil hoped passerbys couldn’t hear them through the storefront’s display glass.

Slowly she slid down his chest and returned to her spot between his legs. She licked the warm mound at his crotch, leaving a wide wet spot. Neil sighed as he watched her, his cock twitched again. Her hands squeezed into his thighs and she licked his erection again through his boxers.

“Oh god,” Neil gasped and looked up at the ceiling. She hooked her hands around his waistband and pulled it down slowly, finally releasing his cock which glistened with precum. She stared at it for a moment before kissing the head. Neil’s mouth fell open in pleasure and shock. “Look at you, god… fuck.” She smiled, self-conscious and wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, squeezing him slightly. He groaned and bucked his hips. She rubbed the head against her wet lips and slowly slipped him inside her mouth. Her mouth was already watering and he whined loudly as she took him in, hallowing her cheeks on accident but soon realizing that it made Neil feel good. She went as deep as she could and pulled away, allowing a thick line of spit to connect her lips with his cock. Neil’s eyes widened and his head dropped back against the couch. His hands flew up to his face and massaged his cheeks, unsure how to handle the things he was feeling and not wanting to force her head down on top of him.

She took him back into her mouth and swirled her tongue around him, bobbing her head up and down. She rocked her head slightly and tried to create a rhythm that elicited the most pitiful sounds from Neil. His cock shook inside her mouth and she sucked hard against it like a lollipop. Neil’s hands tightened around his face and he moaned loudly, exhaling sharply.

“Oh god, honey. What the actual fuck.” He whined between even breaths. He looked down at her pretty little mouth sucking him off and he nearly finished then when she pulled off of him and started to jack him off, her tongue pressed flat against his head. Her fist clenched around his length and he sputtered, unable to form words. After a dozen hard and fast jerks, she took him in her mouth again and bobbed up and down quickly, drooling heavily around him as she tasted his salty precum.

“Oh fuck- fuck- fuck! Shit, I’m gonna cum.” He panted and moaned loudly, his hands finally finding her hair, the pleasure becoming so overwhelming that it was almost painful. The friction and sensation heightened and his knuckles turned white around her long hair. He thrusted his hips gently into her mouth, not wanting to gag her. She welcomed it, opening her throat and humming to let him deeper. She breathed deeply through her nose and her exhales feathered across his crotch, adding even more to the sensations he was already feeling. With a yell Neil spilled into her mouth, bucking his hips and falling back on the couch. She proudly continued to suck him off, pulling everything out of him. He watched her, breathing heavily. She swallowed his warm cum with a smile.

I told you I would come for you…

Neil glanced up at the movie screen and chuckled. She licked him from the base up and plopped back onto the couch, breathing heavily too. Neil tucked himself back into his pants, leaving his belt unbuckled. She arranged herself proudly beside him on the couch, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“That was fucking incredible,” Neil slapped his forehead and laughed breathlessly. “So so good…” he shook his head and looked at her, smiling lopsidedly. She snaked a hand onto his crotch again and rubbed him before wrapping her arm around his sweaty neck. He wrapped his arms around her and supported her body weight as she laid against him, their stomach crushed against each other. She shivered as she heard his heavy breath against her ear. “Good girl,” he whispered and sighed. He rubbed her back and kissed her shoulder through her shirt. She turned over, sitting nearly on his lap. His hands clasped around her stomach and held her tightly. Her soft belly shivered beneath her slowing breaths. They both relaxed again into the movie.

#cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy #fanfiction #cillian fluff #cillian fanfic #neil lewis x fem!reader #neil lewis x y/n #neil lewis smut #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #watching the detectives #princess bride

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cinnajun · 10 months

Text

ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗: keep it quiet | ktr

summary | after an encounter with your best friend’s brother in the middle of the night, you can’t help but falling in love with him—and, perhaps he can’t help falling in love with you, too.

genre | kim taerae x fem!reader, university!au (but over the summer), best friend’s brother!au, y/n is an international student from the united states (sorry for all non usa people)

warnings | alcohol, i plagiarized business proposal, mentions of sex but not explicit

wc | 3.6k

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TAERAE!!!!! i’ve always felt like he was so best friend’s brother (+ hanbin is brother’s best friend in case u were wondering) so here’s my best friend’s brother taerae manifesto (@taerrrrrae asked to be tagged)

ft. kep1 members (dayeon is taerae’s sister), billlie members, lsfm members

i. silencieux

The moment you wake up, your head is spinning and you know you’re not drunk enough to throw up, but you sure feel like you’re going to. Kazuha is asleep with her head on your stomach, and you don’t remember when she ended up there (when you fell asleep, you know she was still playing Monopoly in the living room). To your right, Dayeon is asleep face down on the floor, snoring loudly, and to your left, Sheon and Tsuki had made it up to Dayeon’s bed.

The room is dark, which is disorienting, given you fell asleep when the fluorescent overhead light was still on. As best as you could, you removed Kazuha’s head from your stomach, trying to push yourself up off the floor. A glance at Dayeon’s Hello Kitty-themed, digital clock tells you that it’s 4:34 in the morning, which means you slept for around five-and-a-half hours.

During that time, you’d slept off a lot of the alcohol, but you were still feeling slightly buzzed—the buzz wasn’t enough to keep the hangover away, though. You must’ve drank your weight in vodka, which was not good for you, but Kazuha had insisted on you showing them what an American college kid party was like. And, since you’d been to a single frat party during your senior year of high school, you’d been able to pull it off to an extent (you ordered red solo cups and called it a day).

Deciding you needed to drink some water, you stumbled over Dayeon and emerged out into the hallway, nearly knocking into the wall as you did so. The house was empty as far as you were aware—her parents had gone on vacation, which was why you’d been able to drink all day in the first place. According to Dayeon, though, her older brother was supposedly getting home that night.

You assumed he would probably be asleep by now, so you continued on your conquest to the kitchen, practically falling down the stairs because you didn’t turn the light on. But, once you made it to the bottom, there was nothing in between you and getting your water.

Except for a boy sitting at the island in the kitchen, a mug in one hand and a phone in the other. He’d dimmed the lights in the room, which you didn’t know could happen, and he was blissfully unaware of your presence. At that moment, you registered the quiet sound of bossa nova playing as well, which meant he probably hadn’t heard you stumbling down the stairs.

You froze the moment you saw him, immediately weighing your options—you could either go back upstairs and search for water in Dayeon’s room (or just drink from the tap, which you didn’t want to do but would sacrifice if need be) or you sucked up the anxiety and got a huge cup of ice water.

You didn’t have time to decide, because he turned his head towards you, seemingly confused as to why you’d stopped. “Oh, I thought you were Dayeon,” he said, and you practically swooned.

You didn’t know Dayeon’s brother was point-blank beautiful. His voice was deep too, and you briefly wondered if he’d somehow stepped straight out from a k-drama. He was dressed like he was in a k-drama, too, wearing a black t-shirt and baggy, red sweatpants with a pair of wire-rimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“Um, sorry,” you replied, feeling a bit stupid. Your voice sounded foreign in your ears, and you were praying to the gods above that you didn’t sound drunk still. Taerae shook his head, offering you a reassuring smile. You nearly passed out as a dimple bloomed on his cheek, and you began to wonder how Dayeon had never told you that her brother was perfect.

“No, go ahead and do whatever you need to do. I don’t think you were expecting me to be here.”

You nodded haphazardly, taking a few steps toward the cabinets. Taerae went back to scrolling on his phone, where you quickly realized he was reading a book. You picked up the pace, rushing past him and towards the cups that were on the counter. Grabbing one, you quickly filled it with ice and water, suddenly forgetting who was sitting behind you.

Hurriedly, you chugged the glass, practically rejoicing as the ice-cold water flowed down your throat. With a content sigh, you let one of the ice cubes fall into your mouth, and you began crunching on it.

“Are you the one that’s going to be staying with us this summer?”

You choked on the ice, panic flowing through your entire body. You practically swallowed the rest of the cube whole, spinning on the ball of your foot to face him. In your drunkenness, you’d forgotten that you were going to be living at this guy’s house for the rest of your summer and hadn’t even tried to make a good impression.

“Oh, yeah, right. That would be me, yes. I’m [First].”

“Taerae,” he replied. “If you ever need anything, let me know. I have a car.”

It took everything in you to keep your jaw from dropping. The more you learned about this guy, the more insane you felt—whenever Dayeon talked about him, she spoke like he was the biggest loser on the planet. But, right now, he seemed like the farthest thing from a loser.

“Well,” you said, clearing your throat. “I’m going to go back to sleep.”

He smiled at you again, nodding. “Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. If you’re up before me, the hangover medicine is in the mirror cabinet.”

You felt the warmth rush to your cheeks when he said that, and you rushed to put your glass in the sink and disappear from the room. “Thank you,” you mumbled, speed-walking around the island. Then, as if he was a psychic, he put his hand on the edge right as you walked into it, protecting you from the stabbing pain of a rock-hard corner. With much more fervor than the last time, you choked out another “Thank you!” before practically running up the stairs and back into the sweet escape of Dayeon’s bedroom.

ii. silencio

A couple of days into your stay at Dayeon’s house, you and Taerae found out that you both went to bed late and woke up early. As a result, your most active times were around the same time; so, the both of you often found yourselves sitting with one another.

Every night, it would be the same set-up: Taerae reading a book and drinking tea, which you found out was chamomile, while you sat across from him, working on the homework for your summer class. Then, at around 3 in the morning, you would pack up for the night. You’d then wake up before him and much before Dayeon, make your breakfast, and while you were eating, he would emerge in the morning.

You also quickly learned that Taerae had, quite literally, no flaws. Once, he sat next to you at the dining table, and he smelled like fresh laundry. On top of that, his breakfast of choice had been a piece of toast with raspberry jam which, for some reason, made you even more enamored with him.

During the day, Taerae didn’t go out much. If he did, he was going to see friends, and Dayeon seemed to be in love with one of his friends (his name was Gyuvin, and he was younger than her, which she didn’t like). She often told him to bring his friends over, but Taerae would just laugh at her and leave with car keys dangling from his hand.

He also restated his offer to take you anywhere you needed to go several times, though it was often directed to both you and Dayeon. You found that very sweet, especially for an older brother—a lot of things about his relationship with Dayeon were picturesque. If you’d had a sibling relationship like theirs, you figured you’d be a very different person.

All in all, he was very kind, which was fatal to anybody with a conscience (especially paired with his face). If the word “beautiful” was a person, you were half convinced that Taerae would be him.

You’d be, quite frankly, utterly stupid if you didn’t try and grow closer to him. So, that’s exactly what you did—at night, when Dayeon was fast asleep and you two were the only ones left alive in the house, you would emerge from the guest bedroom and sit with him. You never spoke unless he spoke first, and generally left him to his own devices, hoping somehow that just sitting in the same room as him would make him fall madly in love with you.

Soon enough, the two of you fell into a routine. You’d sit at the kitchen counter on one of their high stools, either studying or playing random games on your computer while you listened to a podcast. Taerae would read and drink tea, listening to various types of music (from jazz to trot, which you found entertaining).

Then, you made a bold move—instead of sitting at the kitchen counter, you sat yourself down at the table, in the opposite corner. Taerae looked at you for a brief moment but didn’t say anything, which made you feel decently impressed with yourself. In your delusion, you were convinced your plan was “working,” even though you had no proof that he viewed you as anything but Dayeon’s friend.

And then, it happened. One night, Taerae was out with his friends later than usual, and you’d felt a little discouraged in pulling your little scheme to hang out with him. But, you figured that, if you didn’t go sit down there at least for the hours you usually did, you’d look suspicious (and fall behind on your schoolwork). So, you set up shop, spreading out your books and papers across the table while you compiled them into your notes.

When he got home, it was around 1 in the morning, and you could tell he was drunk from the way his cheeks were flushed (and the fact that he didn’t hang his car keys—in fact, his keys were nowhere to be found). He nodded at you as he walked to his room, shuffling his feet and yawning. You nodded back, suppressing the smile you felt itching at your lips. A moment later, he came out, wearing the same red sweatpants and black sweatshirt that he loved so much.

You then realized that you’d never been able to watch him make his tea, so you found yourself staring at him the entire time he did—from getting out the tea bags from the cabinet to him adding a plethora of little ingredients, like honey and a single drop of cream.

Then, he turned, and you immediately averted your eyes, staring at your computer screen. Taerae sat next to you instead of sitting on the opposite side, still leaving a chair in between you two. You felt yourself tense up but tried to give the illusion of being as relaxed as possible in hopes of keeping your silly crush a secret.

This time around, Taerae didn’t read a book and sat drinking his tea. He put his music on as usual, settling on the same samba jazz he’d been listening to the night you first met. He leaned back into his chair, and you continued to fight the urge to stare at him from the corner of your eye.

“You want to know something?” he asked, a little slur to his words. You looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Depends on what ‘something’ is.”

“We barely talk,” he began, laughing at himself. “But I think about you all the time. When we’re not sitting here together, I almost feel miserable. You live in my house and I still feel like we don’t spend enough time together.”

“Woah,” you said, eyes wide. “Are you sure you want to be saying this when you’re drunk?”

“When else would I say it?” he snorted, brushing his hair out of his face. He took another sip of his tea. “I’ll probably regret it in the morning, but at least it’s off my chest. Don’t tell me how you feel. Just go back to your work.”

You cleared your throat, buffering for a moment. Then, you did as he asked, and went back to furiously typing away at your study guide. About fifteen minutes later, Taerae got up and put his mug in the sink, disappearing deeper into the house—but he left the music playing.

iii. silentium

You didn’t see Taerae until the next night. He didn’t come down in the morning, and you noticed his shoes were gone from the rack next to the door. When you asked Dayeon when she emerged from her bedroom at nearly 1 pm, she said she’d gone to get his car and ended up deciding to spend the day with his friend Matthew.

You found it hard to keep a straight face in front of Dayeon for the rest of the day, wanting nothing more than to spill out all of your feelings to her, as she was your best friend. You also knew that she would likely be less than pleased that your stupid plan to get her brother to fall in love with you worked, so you kept your mouth shut.

It was also out of respect for Taerae, too, as he was probably dying of embarrassment while he was out with his friend. And, as you expected, he arrived back to the house well after Dayeon had passed out, eyebags prominent under his eyes.

You were sitting at the dining table playing Tetris, listening to a random podcast that talked about random items and events that piqued the hosts’ interest. He didn’t go into his room or make his tea this time, just sitting down next to you (with one seat in between, of course).

You took your AirPods out and paused your game, leaning back into your chair. “Sorry,” he said, drumming his fingers on the table. “If I made things weird, that’s not cool for you, ‘cause you don’t have anywhere else to go. I’ll probably be out and about more when my parents come back.”

You stayed quiet, devising a plan in your head. Part of you was exasperated that your stupid sit-in-the-same-room tactic worked, and the other part of you was screaming in your head, banging on the walls, and giggling maniacally.

You slid into the chair that separated you two, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. Then, before he could turn to look at you, you planted a quick kiss on his cheek. You felt like a middle schooler doing that, but it was the only thing you could come up with before Taerae gave up and left you alone.

He turned to face you, eyes wide and cheeks red, like they’d been last night. For a moment, you stared at each other, not saying a word. Then, you got an idea that made your head spin at just the thought of it—it was cliche and straight out of a movie scene, but you couldn’t help but want to actualize it.

Taerae seemed to have the same idea, as he leaned over and kissed you with a sort of fervor that you weren’t expecting. You couldn’t help but return the kiss, putting your hands on the sides of his face and pulling him closer to you. He pulled away for a second, tugging his glasses off his face and practically throwing them on the table.

Taerae’s lips were soft against your own, plump and perfect to kiss. You were close enough now that you could smell his cologne, which was light and airy, and you felt like a thousand flowers were blooming in your chest. Taerae ran a hand through your hair, which nearly made you swoon (if you weren’t already swooning.

You must’ve made out for a good ten minutes (at least that’s what it felt like), hugging him close to you like if you were to let go he would disappear in a second. The only thing that managed to draw you apart was the loud sound of Dayeon’s bedroom door opening, which caused you to practically shove him away from you. You nearly fell out of your chair as you rushed to get back to your original seat, patting your hair down and shoving your AirPods into your ear.

Taerae grabbed his glasses, pushing them on carelessly while he stood from his chair and nearly ran to where he kept his tea mugs. He began making his nightly tea, although you could see his hands shaking as he filled his electric kettle with water.

Dayeon skipped down the stairs and over to you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and leaning down to hover her head above your shoulder. Then, she plucked out your earbud, putting her phone in front of your computer screen.

You prayed to every god that she couldn’t smell Taerae’s cologne on you, trying to focus on her screen. It was a wall of texts, the contact being easily identifiable as Taerae’s friend, Gyuvin. You scanned every word, bringing your hand up to scroll through them.

“He asked you out?” you blurted out, not thinking about the implications of saying that right behind her older brother. It was a panic reaction, a last-ditch attempt to get her away from you so she wouldn’t find out that you’d made out with her brother in her living room. Taerae spun around, and Dayeon detached herself from you immediately, staring at you with betrayal in her eyes. Taerae looked at her with betrayal in his eyes, too, and you suddenly realized that he knew that she had a thing for his friend.

“I knew Matthew wasn’t telling me something,” Taerae scoffed, causing Dayeon to shrink into herself. “How dare you date one of my friends? In what world is that legal?”

“Do you want a free pass to date one of mine?” Dayeon argued back, which caused you to look away with guilt filling your veins. “I’ve had a crush on him for years, I deserve this!”

You hoped that she never found out about you and Taerae.

iv. quiet

It was the night before Dayeon’s parents got home, two weeks before your dorms opened back up, and Dayeon had gone out with Gyuvin, one of his friends, and a couple of your friends. You’d been invited, but you lied and said you weren’t feeling well, thinking of the opportunity to spend the entire night, alone, with your now boyfriend.

Then, he went and ruined it. You stared at your neck in the mirror in absolute horror, looking at the red mark that was blooming on your skin. Taerae sat on the counter, watching you search through your plethora of makeup bags for the green concealer you’d bought back home.

“I can’t believe you did this to me,” you said, finally finding it in your bag of eyeliners. You immediately began dabbing it onto your neck, picking up your beauty blender and trying your best to blend it out.

“This is not my fault,” he shot back, frowning. “I barely even sucked that hard. This is on you. If you didn’t bruise so easily, we wouldn’t be here.”

You shivered, picking up your normal concealer and beginning to spread that out on the green blob you’d created. “Never phrase it like that again. And, for the record, you bit me. I felt it.”

He huffed, hopping off the counter and walking behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist. You blended out the normal concealer as well, letting out a sigh as it (mostly) disappeared. “The night before your parents come home and you do this to me. How cruel is that?”

“Maybe it’s a good thing. Then we won’t have to sneak around for two weeks, right?”

“I would rather die than have your parents assume that I’m having sex with their son, but okay,” you replied, sighing. You stared at him in the mirror, now, putting your hands on his arms. He stared back at you, putting his head on your shoulder. “Either way, I don’t like hickeys. My friends used to show up to school with them all the time, and sometimes they’d end the day with one they didn’t have at the beginning. It always grossed me out.”

“Then it’ll never happen again,” he replied, squeezing your middle. “Promise.”

Taerae kissed your shoulder, humming. “Dayeon’s getting home soon. We should go to bed.”

“Is she coming home?”

“Gyuvin texted me that he and Kazuha are bringing her back. He said she doesn’t feel well, and that she thinks you got her sick.”

“Awkward,” you giggled, nearly frowning when he let go of you. You turned to face him, and he put his hands on the counter, trapping you in between him and the ledge.

“Good night, my love,” he said, pecking you on the lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Be ready for our two weeks of hell.”

“I wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

thank you for reading !

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