#the next step is cutting it open and finding out how it tastes! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

viridescent-din · 1 year

Text

benevolence

you always imagined it your first kiss would be... softer, than it ends up being. but it’s joel. you probably should have known.

smut, 18+. age gap. joel is a grumpy old man who hates himself and reader is down bad.

The first time Joel kisses you, it isn’t romantic.

It’s angry - he’s angry. The clicker that just had its hands on you lies motionless a few feet away, mouth frozen in the open position it was in when Joel shot it. Joel is checking you over relentlessly for bites. He’s running his hands over your waist, flashing his light on your neck... fuck, he’s even tugging up the cuffs of your jeans to check your ankles.

“You don’t do that,” he pants, fuming once he knows you’re okay. You’re adrenalized, shaken up and not working off your best judgment. You meet Joel’s eyes.

“Don’t do what? Be on the wrong side of the room? Have the batteries run out of my flashlight? This wasn’t my fault, Joel.” Joel shakes his head, pissed, and he grips the nape of your neck. You didn’t even realize his hand is still there, sturdy and calloused. You bite your cheek. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Shut up,” Joel growls, and it makes you even more upset.

“I didn’t - stop blaming me. Stop making me feel like a dumbass, because I’m trying and I’m tired but I’m still better than half the people in the Q -”

Joel cuts you off before you can keep egging either of you on, his lips connecting with yours in a harsh and almost painful way. Your teeth clash, and Joel kisses you with so much force you almost fall, the only thing saving you being his strong arm wrapping around your back. You open your mouth, probably from shock, and Joel’s tongue does a quick sweep around the cavern when you do. Your hands fly up to Joel’s chest instinctively for balance, and you can feel his racing heartbeat under your palm. It makes you falter. You didn’t realize he was so worried.

You’re just starting to ease into it Joel stops.

His teeth catch your bottom lip as he pulls away, and you both taste blood. Joel steps away, the both of you just staring at each other, panting.

“Do you get it?” He asks, voice gruff. “Don’t fucking do that.”

You blink, years of pining and want pouring over you. You swallow, tasting just a bit of what you think is Joel.

“Yeah,” you tell him. “I get it.”

The second time isn’t any more passionate. It’s done to prove a point, just like the first.

You’re leaning against the counter as you drink at the bar, still trying to wrap your head around this actual town Tommy is living in. It feels so real - like the flashes of memory you have of the world before the outbreak. You’re shivering a bit, your hair still wet from the shower you took. The shower with warm water. Joel is back at the house Tommy and Maria gave you to stay in. He insisted you shower first - he wanted to make sure that if there was hot water to use up, it was you who got it. He sent you off to the bar with the promise of meeting you there soon.

You’re drinking a whiskey neat, not because you like the drink, but because it feels warm in your chest and you know Joel will finish it. You’re sipping on it as you talk to a few men that are locals. They’re a bit older than you, but definitely younger than Joel. They seem nice, better than the lecherous creeps you keep managing to find on your journey (infected or not). One of them works in the stables, taking care of the horses. You smile as you listen to him talk about them. You think you can remember a few girls in elementary school who had farms and horses before everything broke down.

A hand slides around your waist as you’re talking, and you have to crane your neck to see Joel appearing next to you. He’s much taller without a backpack: less weighed down. His shoulders are relaxed and broad. You forget how to breathe for a moment, utterly taken by him.

“Hi,” you say softly. Joel doesn’t acknowledge it. You can feel the anger permeating off him, it’s more present than the hand he has that’s now gripping your side. You blink. “Joel.”

Joel looks down at you, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and the men. He brings his free hand up to your face, cupping your jaw. This time you know, you aren’t surprised when his lips meet yours.

You’re pissed at Joel - you’re furious that he’s doing this again, touching you without any indication for months that it’s something he wants. You know Joel feels for you, but when he only confirms it so damn scarcely, it’s easy for you to doubt. You try to steel yourself, only let him in so deep, but Joel is already with you, whether he’s touching you or not. The two of you are permanently connected, just like anyone else who’s ever survived together. Despite your best efforts, you melt into him, holding onto the lapels of the jacket Joel told you he got from trading with Bill.

By the time you pull away, your potential friends are already muttering among themselves, making up excuses to leave. They exit, giving you and Joel the entirety of the counter. You shake your head, turning so you aren’t facing Joel. You give it a few minutes, then walk out in the direction of the house. You’ve barely made it out the door of the bar when Joel pulls you into the little alley next to it.

“Joel, stop. It’s snowing. I didn’t bring a coat.” Joel pulls his off, wrapping it around you. You scoff, but don’t turn it down. “Joel -”

“Didn’t want them getting the wrong idea.” He interrupts you. You stare at Joel, incredulous.

“And what wrong idea is that, Joel?” You ask, then don’t let him answer. “They were nice. Just welcoming one of the new strangers to town.”

“They weren’t just being nice.”

“Yes, Joel, they were. Have you already forgotten about that ambush that happened when we got here? This place isn’t about to let in any assholes. Not the type you’re accusing those guys of being, at least.” Joel sets his jaw, taking a step towards you. You back up as he approaches until you hit the wall of the bar. You let out a breathe, one you can see. It’s fucking cold. You don’t know how Joel isn’t shivering, his freshly showered wet hair glistening in the light of the few street lamps.

“They needed to know,” Joel says. He’s so close to you. You smell the shampoo and soap that Maria has given him, but underneath that, he’s still Joel. Musky and experienced. Territorial. You can’t help being mad at him, but you’re terrible at committing to it.

“They need to know what?” Joel doesn’t answer. He places his hands on either side of you, caging you in. He won’t look at you. You raise your arms, placing your hands on Joel’s. You slip your thumbs under the long sleeves on his shirt, rubbing at Joel’s lifeline. His lips part as he exhales. “Joel, nobody can know about this when you won’t even say anything about it to me.”

You expect Joel to fight, maybe chastise you, but he doesn’t. He slumps against you, head buried in your chest and arms wrapping around your torso in a crushing bear hug. You blink, caught off guard, but you recover quickly, throwing one hand around Joel’s shoulders and bringing the other to massage the nape of his neck. You can feel the fight leaving Joel, just for a moment. You wonder what’s softening him: the shower, the almost normal town, finding Tommy.

You.

Joel doesn’t do this. You don’t know anything about his life before the outbreak, but you know he hasn’t loved many people. He’s approaching this in all the wrong ways, but he doesn’t know any better. He has to re learn, and you have to learn for the first time.

All Joel needs right now is a little reassurance.

“Joel. Joel. Baby,” you whisper in his ear, pressing your lips to his temple. “They didn’t want anything from me. And it wouldn’t matter if they did. They’re nothing.” Joel’s fingers dig into your ribs, and you can tell you’re going to bruise. You don’t care. “They’re nothing. I don’t care about them. I don’t care about anyone here.”

You close your eyes, burying your nose in the side of Joel’s neck and inhaling. You let Joel surround you, take up all your senses. You posture up, taking Joel with you. You take his face in your hands, your lips brushing over his forehead, cheeks, nose. You kiss the patches in his beard where the hair doesn’t grow, and his eyelids when his eyes drift shut. You’re overcome with affection, the feelings you push down every time you see Joel forcing themselves up. You almost want to cry. “Joel, you’re so handsome.” Joel tenses, praise unfamiliar to him, but you watch as he forces himself not to reject it. His fingers find the loops of your jeans, pulling you flush against him so there isn’t any part of you that isn’t touching. You let him. You ask for it.

“They’re not you,” you promise him. “Nobody here will ever be you.”

The night at the bar doesn’t magically fix everything. But it does make it harder for you and Joel to let go of each other - metaphorically and literally - so you start to sleep with him. Every night, Joel tucks you under his arm, letting you use his steady heartbeat to fall asleep to. Every morning, you wake up with the positions reversed, cradling Joel’s head to your chest.

The first time Joel has a nightmare, you think someone (something) has broken in.

You wake up to Joel thrashing, drenching the covers in a cold sweat. You grab his shoulders and shake, putting any worries about hurting Joel aside.

“Joel,” you say, your voice shaking but firm. “Wake up. Wake up,” Joel sits up, his eyes flying open. He blinks, gathering his bearings and realizing he’s safe. You pant, reaching out to put a hand on his arm. Joel flinches, so you draw it away. “Sorry,” you apologize. Joel turns, looking at you like he didn’t realize you were there. He says your name, sounding broken.

“You’re -” he says, then pauses, trying to figure what he’s trying to say. “You’re here.” You stare at him.

“Yeah, Joel.” You say. “I’m here. I’m with you.” Joel reaches for you, tugging you close and then pressing you against the sheets. He grunts, like he’s trying to make sense of everything.

“Can I - Will you let me -” Joel searches for the words, but can’t come up with them. You just nod.

“Yes,” you tell him. “You can do whatever you need. I trust you.” Joel freezes above you, almost glaring. His hands begin to toy with the hem of your shirt, and your heart begins to pound against your rib cage.

Joel slowly pulls your shirt up, dragging his mouth over every inch of skin he reveals. His chapped lips explore every curve and softness of your belly, and when you raise your arms so he can rid you of the article of clothing completely, he does the same to your breasts. It doesn’t even feel sexual, Joel isn’t licking or biting. He’s just feeling, touching. You feel dizzy, arousal pooling between your legs. You grip the sheets between your fingers.

“I’m only good for you in here,” Joel says against your skin. It sends vibrations throughout your body, you feel his voice everywhere. You shake, but you’re not cold. He sits back on his knees to look at you, so you prop yourself up on your elbows. You blink.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you admit. Joel shakes his head.

“I’m good for you here,” he gestures to the room. “And here,” he jabs a finger to his chest, over his heart, then mirrors the action on you. It kind of hurts, but you don’t show it. “But out there? I’m not a good man,” you open your mouth to protest, but Joel shuts you down with just one look. You stay silent. “I’ve done... I’ve done some bad things. Bad enough I don’t think Tommy really wanted to see me again.” Joel shakes his head. “And I - I would do those things for you. I even want to sometimes.” Your eyes widen, and Joel sees it. He sours. “Bein’ good for you means that I’m bad for everyone else. Do you get what I’m tellin’ you?” Joel’s drawl comes out as he gets more emotional. “You need to know that. And if we’re gonna keep doing this, you need to accept it too. It might not be fair. I don’t know if it is. But this is the way things are. You understand me?”

You stare at Joel, watching him bare himself to you in a way you don’t think he’s done for anyone else in a long, long, time. You suck in a shaky breath, and swallow.

“I understand you.” You pull Joel over you, looking up at him. “I still trust you.” You tell him.

Joel lets his head drop, not letting you see him. He works his way down your chest, from your collarbone to navel until he reaches the button of your jeans. Glancing at you to tell him to stop, he strips you of the pants when you don’t. You watch as he looks at you, staring at your most intimate area, and then presses his face to the inside of your thigh. He strokes your calf.

“You don’t what you’re gettin’ yourself into.” He murmurs, almost absentmindedly.

“Yes I do,” you protest. “I’ve been with you for years, Joel. I know you as much as you’ve let me. Let me know more. Let me decide for myself.”Joel holds your gaze. You pant, throbbing. “Let me give something to you. If you don’t think I know you, or us, that’s fine. It makes me sad, but it’s fine.” Joel presses an open mouthed kiss to the meat of your thigh, and you whimper. “I know myself, though, Joel. I know what I want. It’s you. I promise. I’m trusting you, Joel. Can’t you just trust me too?”

Joel looks at you in awe, and then gives you an affectionate frown. He doesn’t say ‘okay’ or anything like that. Instead, he just ducks his head, thrusting his tongue into your sex like a starved man, and holds you down as you keen and shake.

Joel used to refuse to give you any sort of heightened affection, any type of intimacy. He’s getting better at that. Joel strokes your cheek when you wake up in the morning, offers you bland but hearty oatmeal when he notices you haven’t eaten. He drops to his knees the second he sees that your shoe’s come untied.

He doesn’t like it when you try to do the same. Joel’s self-hatred is so deep seated he thinks the very act of you loving him is equivalent to any act of service. When you finally convince him to let do something for him - helping him undress, washing his hair, taking his cock down your throat - you have to promise him you want it too. Only once it’s happening will Joel let himself take. He’ll stay in the shower for hours, fuck your mouth until you can’t speak.

Joel is greedy when he lets himself be. That’s why it hurts so much that he won’t have sex with you.

“It’ll change things, baby.” He tells you, trying to ease the blow. You just don’t get it.

“We’ve already changed them.” You respond, looking away. “I don’t... I don’t want to pressure you, Joel. Just tell me if that’s not what you want.”

“Hey,” Joel grips your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his. “That’s not it. Don’t you think that.” You swallow, but nod, accepting Joel’s words. He releases you, then begins petting your side. It’s spring now. Joel looks good under the morning light from the window. “You’re sweet. You couldn’t pressure me into anything.”

He’s right. Joel is his own man. His days of being easily influenced are long gone.

You learn to live with it, this tiny piece of rejection. You accept that there’s something about sex that’s too much for Joel. It’s strange, because it almost hurts more than it did before you and Joel got closer. Like you’re close enough to grab what you want, but can’t quite. It’s okay, though. You want him enough to accept whatever he’ll give you, and parts of Joel is better than none of him.

You wonder if the two of you have settled. You’ve been in Jackson for six months - but it feels like years. For the first time since you can remember, you’re living instead of surviving. It’s exhilarating. You and Joel are both showing signs of domesticity: the callouses on your hands have almost entirely disappeared, and Joel’s face has gotten a bit rounder. A couple extra pounds looks good on Joel. You like knowing he isn’t running himself to the bone.

With all this extra time, Joel has started taking you out of the town so you can perfect your shooting. He sets up targets, adjusts your grip, and watches you for what seems like hours. You’re getting better, but the process is painstaking. Everyone back in the QZ knew you were much more adept with a knife.

“Knife ain’t good for infected. You have to get too close.” Joel tells you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. His hand snakes around your hip, pulling your knife from your front pocket. He tosses it to the side. “Now you don’t have a knife. Just the gun.” Joel points over your shoulder and at the target. “Shoot.”

You hit the target five times in the row.

You squeal in excitement, jumping up and down and dropping the gun. You turn around and practically jump into Joel’s arms. You’re grinning, and Joel is almost smiling, which for him is a huge victory. He cups your face, thumb stroking your cheekbone before he kisses you.

You’re still smiling into Joel’s mouth, and he’s swallowing your moans as one of his hands drops from your face to your chest. He finds the hardened bud of your nipple even over the material of your shirt - you never wear bras anymore, you haven’t felt the need since coming to Jackson - and he pinches. You whimper, pleasure shooting through your veins. Joel is hard, you can see the tent in your pants, feel it against your belly. When he breaks the kisses, Joel keeps himself pressed to you.

“I need this too, baby. I need it too.” You can hear the fight in Joel’s voice, the inner turmoil. You try to say okay, but can’t find the words.

Joel picks you up, throws you onto your shared bed. He’s being reckless - he literally tossed the gun on the couch in the living room. It’s not loaded, but still.

Joel stands back, breathing slightly erratic, and stares at you. He eyes you hungrily, like a starving man.

He’s about to indulge.

Joel pulls his shirt over his head, and you do the same, shimmying out of your jeans. You freeze when when Joel takes off the last item of his clothes, staring. You swallow.

Joel is beautiful.

You push yourself up, crawling to the edge of the bed. You place your hands on Joel’s sides, looking up to meet his eyes. He gives you an affectionate frown, stroking your cheek. He’s so broad. You press your lips to Joel’s collarbone, then cover him in your kisses. You kiss his neck, shoulders, chest, belly. Joel groans, his hand tangling in your hair. His cock is hard against his stomach, and you give the head a quick lick, cupping his balls. Joel’s eyes fly open, and before you even know what’s happening, he’s pressed you flat against the sheets, pinning your arms above your head.

“Don’t,” Joel warns you. “It’s been too long. And you’re -” Joel cuts himself, dragging his tongue over your throat to catch a bead of sweat. He presses his length against your hip, and you gasp. “You touch me like that again and I’ll cum.”

“Joel,” you whisper, but he just shakes his head. He holds his palm out in front of your face.

“Spit,” he commands. “You’re gonna want to make it easier on yourself, darlin.’” You take a breath, your chest brushing Joel’s. You squeeze your legs together, searching for any type of friction. Your face burns. “C’mon,” Joel says, softer this time. “I’ve seen you sweatin’ with blood caked in your hair. I’ve seen at your worst. Right now I’m seein’ you at your best.” A small smile manages to crinkle the edges of Joel’s eyes. “Nothing to be embarrassed about here.”

You blink up at Joel, and realize you feel exactly the way you always do around him: safe. Free, supported. You don’t have to worry about anything, not looking pretty or being good enough. It’s Joel.

You’re with Joel.

You spit in his hand, then watch as he strokes his cock with it. He spreads the beads of pre cum on his head down the shaft too, and then runs himself through your folds. You keen instantly, the feeling unlike anything (anything) you’ve ever felt. When Joel’s head brushes your clit, you feel like you’re dying. He lines himself up, teasing your entrance, and when Joel slides in, he keeps a careful watch of your face for any signs of pain. He takes care of you.

Joel stays still to let you adjust, and you feel him everywhere. Your body, your brain, your heart. Joel is all encompassing. He’s inescapable.

When you give Joel a small nod, he starts to move. He thrusts in an out, setting a steady pace. You grip the muscle of his arms, arching your back to get him deeper.

“That’s it,” Joel tells you. “Good job,” you clench around him at the praise, and you think you hear Joel let out a chuckle. He keeps working you open, each thrust a bit deeper until he’s buried to the hilt. You and Joel stop, both feeling. He lets out a breath, drops his face in your shoulder. Joel pulls out, then enters you again, burying himself once more. “I missed you,” he says into your skin.

For a moment, you don’t know what Joel’s talking about. You’ve been traveling with him for years, and since living in Jackson, you’ve hardly left his side.

Then you realize this is Joel’s way of telling you you’re familiar, and part of him.

You wrap one of your arms around Joel’s shoulders, link your ankles behind his hips. You pull Joel impossibly close, so close he has to abandon his idea of rubbing his thumb over your clit. He does the same to your nipple instead, pinching and pulling and driving you closer and closer to the edge. You feel sensation building in your stomach, the edges of your vision blurring.

“Joel,” you gasp. “Joel, I think.. I think I’m close.” Joel shushes you, brushing baby hairs off your forehead.

“It’s alright baby, let it go. Let me make you feel good.” He tells you. All it takes is a few more sweet nothings before your shuddering against him, riding out your high. Joel’s eyes roll to the back of his head as you clench him impossibly tight. He curses. Without a word, Joel pulls out before he can climax inside you, spurting on both of your stomachs. He collapses next you, his hand finding yours and squeezing it.

“I’m sorry it took so long,” Joel murmurs, dragging his lips across your knuckles. You can feel his cum begin to dry on your stomach. You hum.

“Worth it,” you manage to whisper back. “You’re worth it, Joel.”

Joel turns his head, meeting your eyes, taking in all of your sincerity. For know, he doesn’t know what to do with it. But he’ll learn.

He’ll re learn. All of this - these ideas of love and mutual partnership - he’ll make it familiar again. All so he can stay close.

#joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us imagine

5K notes · View notes

jjunieworld · 3 months

Text

the great bake off! ༘ ˚· 🍞 𓂅

read part two here ⇢ spilt milk ⋆｡˚

pairing: choi soobin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, bakery au, baker!soobin and non-baker!reader, “competing”, slight banter, brief mention of blood, some sexual innuendos, soobin is super shy

synopsis: after getting fired from your job as a pizza delivery driver, you’re in desperate need to find a new job before you get kicked out of your apartment. that’s when you hear about the local bakery looking for employees. thinking, “why not? i’ve worked with dough before!”, you apply and actually get the job. that’s when you and the son of the bakery’s owner decide that it would be fun to compete to see who can make the most baked goods for a prize.

word count: 8.6k┊part two┊masterlist

a/n: i’m a little late, but thank you all so much for 100 followers! here’s a little treat (lmao) expressing my gratitude! finally joining everyone in making a baker!soobin fic lmao… i got carried away so this is pretty long. i don’t even think it counts as a oneshot anymore but i hope you enjoy :) shoutout to the lovely @jjunberry for the florist!sunoo agenda ❀

“and don’t come back!” yelled the manager of the job you just got fired from. you took your apron and hat off and threw them on the ground in front of the establishment. you scoffed loudly, noticing the passing stares of the people walking outside and the judging ones of the customers inside.

“wouldn’t fucking dream of it!” you yelled back. the manager stepped back out of the doorframe, eyes wide, lip curled, and brows scrunched ready to retort. you cut him off with a middle finger and turned, angrily walking away to where your car was.

you didn’t need that stupid pizza delivery job anyways. half the time you weren’t even delivering pizzas because of how shitty they tasted. which wasn’t a fault of you, but a fault of your manager, who was also the owner.

majority of the time he had you in the back doing his job, making the pizzas, while he sat in the break room watching alpha male videos on his phone.

you slammed your door shut and rubbed at your temples. you had a tension headache and you couldn’t think.

“fuck!” you yelled loudly. what are you going to do now? you need a job so you can pay the rent of your shitty overpriced apartment. and you just knew you weren’t getting your last paycheck from your ex-manager.

sighing, you pull out of the parking lot next to the pizza place and head back to your apartment. you desperately needed a shower and to start job hunting as soon as possible.

you push open the door of your apartment and take a look around, thankful that you cleaned before you left. it was small, but it was home.

after your shower, you got a call from your best friend.

“what a fucking asshole!” sunoo exclaimed. you propped your phone up on the roll of paper towels as you began making something to eat. “but now you can come work with me!”

your face scrunched up. “i’d rather get evicted. love you though!” sunoo was a florist. there wasn’t anything wrong with that, but you could barely tell a daisy apart from a daffodil. and the thought of being surrounded by a bunch of different flower smells gave you another headache.

sunoo rolled his eyes. “fine then!” on your phone screen he raised his hands up and took a step back from the camera. “be broke then! don’t come crying to me when you’re out on the streets in the pouring rain waiting on a miracle when i’m offering you one right now!” you laughed at him.

“whatever! working with you is my last option though.” you put a pot of water on the stove for ramen. you really didn’t feel like making something elaborate after the day you had. “help me, sunoo! start listing off available jobs!”

he raised his eyebrow at you, “what makes you think i know what jobs are available and what jobs aren’t? go on google!” you rolled your eyes at him. he chuckled at you. “i did hear that that bakery downtown was looking for new employees, though.”

you raised your eyebrows at him, an ‘i told you so!’ smile on your face. he just rolled his eyes at you. “are they? i’ll have to call them. that’s a job for tomorrow y/n, though. i am so fucking tired.”

“i’d be tired too if i acted like a menace everyday,” sunoo replied. you shot him a look. “i do not act like a menace!”

“this is your second job in like three months… who are you? trish from austin and ally?” you gasped, putting a hand to your chest in somewhat fake shock. at least trish got a new job easily. it took you forever to find that pizza place job, and even longer for you to actually start working. you very nearly actually almost did get evicted if sunoo hadn’t stepped in and helped you.

“goodbye! i love you!” you said and leaned on the counter towards the counter. sunoo gave the camera a kiss and you jumped away in mock disgust. “bye, i love you!”

you ended your call and sat down to eat the ramen you made. sighing, you shoveled the noodles into your mouth. you really hoped that you got hired at this bakery. you didn’t know what you were gonna do if you don’t.

the next day you were up bright and early in the morning ready to call the bakery. you scoured google to see what the number was and after a couple misdirects you finally found it. your hands shook slightly as you pressed the phone to your ear and listened to the rings.

“hello, nap of a star bakery! if you are calling for a custom pie, orders will be pushed until next week!” a deep voice said over the line. your eyebrows raised slightly in shock and you hesitated for a moment as you thought of your next words.

“hello! i was actually calling to ask if you were hiring,” you replied. there was slight shuffling on the phone. “hello! yes, we are! have you picked up an application from the bakery? i can also email you a pdf version of it if you choose.”

you thought for a moment. it couldn’t hurt to go down and actually check the place out before deciding to work there. you did not need another repeat of the arcade job again.

“that’s okay! i can come down to the bakery for it!” the voice gave you an, “okay, have a good day!” and you hung up the phone after repeating them. you got your things together and left your apartment.

it took you a good minute to find the bakery. sunoo even had to text you directions. you recalled that the bakery was new and local. it was tucked away in between two buildings on the corner of the street. you parked your car and stepped your way towards the door.

the bell above the door rang as you pushed it open and stepped inside. behind the counter, a very tall dark-haired guy stood covered in flour rolling dough in a bowl. his head snapped up at the sound and a friendly smile plastered on his face. he pulled the gloves off and sat them next to the bowl. then he came up to where the cash register and a monitor were.

“hello! how may i help you?” he asked, rolling up his falling sleeves.

you took a look around the establishment. it was actually very nice. behind him, a chalkboard of everything their selling was written in an array of different colors. different baked goods were on display under the counter where the guy stood. there was also a door behind him to the back. natural light filtered in from the big windows at the front of the shop, highlighting the light minty colored walls and hanging stars. wooden tables and chairs with quilted seat covers tied to them were scattered around the open space. the overhead lighting was subtle and not harsh like so many other bakeries were. all in all, the bakery was very cozy.

“hi,” you smiled, “i called here not too long ago. about the applications?” his face lit up in realization and his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. he started to move around the counter.

“ah, yes! the applications! i can get you a pen if you want to fill it out here?” he asked as he grabbed the application from one of the tables near the door and turned to hand it to you. “assuming you brought your resume…” he then trailed off, a shy smile on his lips.

thankfully you did bring your resume. you took the application from him. “i did, actually, thank you!” he nodded slightly to himself and he walked back over to the counter and grabbed a pen from a cup next to the keyboard. he handed that to you as well. “here you go!”

you sat at one of the tables a little ways away from the counter. customers began filing in for orders as you filled the application out. all the motion was distracting you and you couldn’t help watching the dark-haired guy work.

he seemed to move fluidly from taking an order, pressing it all into the monitor, and either retrieving it from the back or display. you didn’t even realize he was also making more things while taking and completing orders until you saw him furiously trying to get the flour off himself when there were no customers around. you giggle lowly to yourself and finally finished filling the application out.

his back was turned to you as you walked up to the counter. he was still trying to get the flour off of him but was spreading it all over his clothes and apron instead. “uh, i finished the application,” you said softly. he jumped and quickly turned to you, an embarrassed smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

you stacked your resume with the application and handed it to him with the pen on top. he took it from you and sat it next to the keyboard.

you got the chance to get a look at his name tag attached to his brown and mint apron. the pretty signature with a shooting star next to it told you that his name was soobin. you got a good look at his face. he was quite pretty, even covered in flour.

he laid his hands flat on the counter and leaned towards you slightly. “okay, so your application will get registered and we should be with you within the week!” he told you, giving you another friendly smile. you returned it. “thank you!”

“have a good day!” you shot his words back to him and left the bakery, making your way to your car.

it was torture waiting for the email to know if you got the job or not. you were sitting in the chair behind the counter at chaconne, the flower shop that sunoo worked at, eyes glued to your phone as you kept refreshing your inbox.

“refreshing your inbox every five seconds isn’t going to make the email appear faster.” sunoo said as he arranged different flowers into a bouquet.

you sighed and slouched in the chair. you guess he was right. it’s only been a couple of days and it seemed like soobin was the only employee.

after sunoo wrapped the flowers and tied it off, he turned to you. today was a slow day in the shop, hence why you were behind the counter. not that sunoo’s boss minded, mrs. jeon loves you.

“so… anyone cute working at the bakery?” he asked, smirking. you looked up from your phone and chuckled. “there’s only one employee, at least i think. he was cute, in fact!” you replied. sunoo’s face lit up.

you tilted your head at him, you knew that look. that was his matchmaking look. “absolutely not,” you quickly said before he could open his mouth. “i need to keep this job if i do get it.” he brought his shoulders up.

“it’s gonna happen anyways. what else are the both of you to do in there together except get to know each other?” he brought his shoulders down and then leaned towards you, eyes wide. “what’s his personality like, tell me! he’s a baker right? duh, of course he is. i bet he’s a softie.” sunoo started rambling, mainly to himself.

you held your hands up. “woah, i met him for a total of like twenty minutes. i don’t have that information.” sunoo sighed and turned back around as customers entered.

you kept refreshing your phone, making small talk with sunoo as he made more bouquets. suddenly, you heard a ‘ping!’ sound and your eyes snapped to your phone to see the notification. “oh my god! it’s from the bakery!” you exclaimed. sunoo came over to you and leaned down next to you to see your phone. “well open it!”

you did just that and almost screamed from excitement had it not been for sunoo covering your mouth and looking around the shop at the lingering customers. “i’m not gonna get evicted!” you exclaimed and sunoo laughed as he rang up another customer.

it was your first day of working at nap of a star bakery and you were standing next to soobin and the owner of the bakery as your training started. it turns out that soobin was the son of the owner, and so far it was just the two of them at the shop. well, now the three of you.

“i’m so thankful you put in an application, y/n dear. it’s been difficult running the bakery with just my boy. your extra hands are very welcome!” mrs. choi told you, smiling warmly. you noticed the light blush across soobin’s cheeks as he rubbed his hand over his face. you smiled warmly at mrs. choi, “i’m very thankful you decided to hire me!”

she put you and soobin to work in the back room, starting on the goods, as she dealt with the customers up front. soobin began showing you how to make the dough for snickerdoodles. you stood side by side in your matching aprons and gloves.

“you want to make sure that you add enough flour so the consistency isn’t super sticky.” soobin said as he showed you the amount of flour to put into it. you let out a brief laugh.

“this isn’t my first time baking, i got this.” you gave him a confident smile. he raised his eyebrows.

“okay then… all you!” he took a step back from the bowl and you took one towards it.

you made snickerdoodles before. at least, you think you did. they were a pretty popular cookie to make, surely you’ve made them at least once in your life before. you cracked the eggs soobin had put out into the bowl. soobin had already added the butter, so it was up to you to figure out the rest of the ingredients.

thinking of what usually goes into cookies, you started reaching for different things. you eyeballed the amount you put in.

“oh! that’s not— you should really measure the ingredients!” soobin suddenly exclaimed. you felt his watchful eyes on you as you worked. you waved a hand behind you. you had this.

once you got all the ingredients in, you dug your gloved hands in and started mixing. there was sputtering from soobin behind you, but you ignored him. the dough was really sticky, so you took soobin’s words from earlier and reached for the flour.

the flour suddenly quickly poured out from the bag, way too much of it falling into the bowl. “oops!” you muttered, setting the bag back down, getting sticky dough everywhere. you dug your hands in again and started mixing until the dough was firm. you picked some up and rolled it into a small ball, then dipped the outside of the ball into the sugar and cinnamon mixture soobin has already set out.

you continued the process a few more times, struggling with the crumbling dough, until you filled the pan. you peeled off your gloves and picked the pan up, walking over to where the stoves were, a dumbfounded soobin trailing behind you.

mrs. choi popped her head in from the door and asked you both how it was going. you both turned. “it’s going great!” you beamed, pan still in hand. she gave you both a satisfied smile and went back to the front.

you put the pan of cookies in the oven. setting it to 415° you thought aloud at the amount of minutes you should set the timer for. “i think ten minutes should be good. or maybe fifteen? i’ll do fifteen just to be sure!”

once that was all settled, you dusted off your apron and turned to soobin, who was staring at you with wide eyes and mouth agape. “see, i told you. i got this! so what’s next?” your question must’ve snapped him out of his daze.

“oh— uh… you know— let’s just wait until the cookies are done. then we’ll continue.” he stuttered. you shrugged, stepping away from the stoves to get new gloves.

the timer dinged and you grabbed an oven mitt to take the pan of cookies out of the oven. you sat the pan on the cooling rack as you turned the oven off. soobin came near you and leaned over the freshly baked cookies, inspecting them. they were a pretty deep golden brown.

he grabbed the nearby metal spatula and went to lift one of the cookies to look under it. the cookie completely crumbled as he did. the inside was burnt. your mouth dropped in shock.

soobin looked over to you, his hand with the spatula still hanging in the air. he straightened, “so… let me show you how to actually make snickerdoodles. so that they don’t turn out like… this.” he motioned with the spatula to your failed cookies.

you nodded and couldn’t help but laugh. soobin hesitated before joining in with you. “this was a disaster, i’m sorry.” you said, covering your mouth. soobin took another look at the cookies before throwing them away in the nearby trash can. he looked back to you, “are you sure you’ve baked before?”

an embarrassed smile spread on your face. “no, not really. i mean i’ve made those cookies from the packages where you just have to add water…” soobin gave you a bemused look. he shook his head slightly and motioned you over to where the ingredients were.

standing next to him, he began guiding you on how to actually make snickerdoodles, you following his instructions. when you were about to do something wrong, like stick your gloved hands in the bowl to mix the dough again, he would stop you and tell you how to actually do it. “instead of mixing it with your hands, you want to take this—“ he held up a straight spatula “—and fold the dough instead.” soobin demonstrated for you as he spoke.

you nodded, following along. soobin stopped his motions and handed you the spatula. you took it from him and picked up from where he left off, folding the dough. once everything was mixed, soobin softly clapped. you laughed in amusement.

he pointed to the dough, “see how it’s not super sticky and not as firm and crumbly as yours was? that’s the consistency you want. this is the consistency that you’ll mainly be working towards when baking anything.” he picked up a small amount of dough and began rolling it between his hands. you copied his actions, and then rolled the ball into the sugar and cinnamon mixture.

after filling the pan, once again, soobin took the pan over to the oven and placed it inside. he turned to you, a reassuring smile on his face. “you don’t want to put it on too high or keep the cookies in for too long.” he put the oven on 350° and set the timer for 8 minutes.

“if you feel like maybe they’ve been in for too long, then you can go ahead and check them. i usually use a toothpick and the spatula to check the consistency and to make sure the bottom isn’t burnt.” soobin said. he did just that and backed away, his mouth forming a satisfied grin. nodding, you took in all the information he had just taught you.

that’s how the rest of your shift went. soobin walking you through how to make various baked goods. once you felt like you could start working on your own, soobin would move on to work on something else. here and there he would give you his input, and you’d apply it to whatever you were making. you and soobin made small talk as you worked, getting to know each other until it was time for you to start cleaning up.

you were absolutely covered in flour and dried dough. thankfully, once you and soobin we’re done with one baked good, you would clean whatever you used and the area before starting the next thing. so it wasn’t as messy as you were initially expecting the end of the day to be. you stripped your gloves off and threw them into the trash, soobin doing the same.

the two of you stood at the sink, him washing the dishes and you drying and putting them away. “i have an idea,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. soobin looked over to you, shaking his head a little to get their hair out of his eyes. he raised an eyebrow in question. “tomorrow we should see who can make the most stuff. like a competition! we can compete and whoever makes the most goods at the end of the week can win a prize or something! i don’t know, we can workshop the idea.” you exclaimed, you gave him a big hopeful smile as you rinsed and dried the dish he handed you.

“compete?” he asked. you nodded. he hummed as he thought. “okay! how are we gonna tally up points?” you put the whisk back in the drawer as you thought.

“each baked good can be a certain amount of points! like cakes and pies are three, pastries and cupcakes are two, and cookies and whatever else are one?” you looked at him, head tilted. “we can keep track on the chalkboard!” you then pointed over to the chalkboard next to where the door to the front of the bakery was. right now, it had a half erased list of what the two of you needed to make on it.

“okay!” soobin smiled. “let’s do it!” you squealed a little and ran over to the chalkboard, erasing the list on it. “hey! you’re suppose to be helping me wash dishes!” soobin laughed. you ignored him as you wrote.

on the chalkboard you wrote soobin and y/n in capital letters, drawing a line between your names and under them so it formed a table. “today doesn’t count since i was learning.” you spoke, placing the piece of chalk back on the little rack and turning to him. he looked back at you as he washed the dishes, grinning. you returned to his side and rinsed the dishes that he piled up.

“it’s on!” you said and glanced over to him. he laughed and shook his head. “in your wildest dreams.”

sunday rolled around quite fast and the bake off competition between you and soobin was at an all time high. currently, soobin was winning with a total of sixty-seven points. you were close behind him with sixty-six points. you were rushing to finish the cookies you were making for another point. the timer on the oven sounded off and you jumped in excitement, pulling out the freshly baked perfect cookies.

“another point for me!” you exclaimed, walking over to the chalkboard and adding a tally under your name. you turned to soobin with a wide grin. “now we’re tied!”

“because you keep cheating! all you’ve been doing the whole day is making cookies!” soobin spoke as he frosted a cake order meant for a birthday. on the top, the cake read “happy birthday honey!” with yellow and orange swirls and hearts. your grin widen and you gave a smug shrug. “step your cookies up before you crumble!”

soobin playfully scoffed at you and went back to adding intricate tubing to the cake. you leaned over it, watching him work. “i would be ahead of you right now if you didn’t take all the cakes and pies.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. he chuckled at you, staring over at you for a brief second.

“i’ll let you have the next one,” soobin said softly. he added the last bit of tubing on the cake before the door to the front opened. mrs. choi came in with a small piece of paper in hand. you and soobin turned towards her in unison.

“another order for one of our famous blueberry pies!” mrs. choi exclaimed as she wiggled the paper. she pinned it on the cork board next to the chalkboard with your scores and went back up to the front.

you and soobin looked back to each other, frozen. you saw the gears in his brain turning as you stared into his eyes. in the short week you’ve gotten to know him and the competition you’ve both started, you learned to read the look in his eyes when he’s up to something. narrowing your eyes slightly, you shifted your body ever so subtly to the cork board just in case you needed to make a break for it. a slight smile tugged at the corners of soobin’s mouth.

“it’s all you,” he said lowly. your eyes narrowed further and cautiously you took a step, eyes locked on him. taking another, and another until you reached the cork board, you let your eyes slip from him and his wide smile. the bag of frosting still in his hand.

snatching the piece of paper, your eyes scoured over it hungrily, taking in all of the information. a mischievous smile spread across your lips as you read further and saw that the order also called for four blueberry and lemon puffed pastries. you were so winning this battle.

you felt a breath on your neck and turned to see soobin looming over you. you quickly pressed the paper to your chest and faced him, a gasp escaping your lips.

“cheater! you said you were gonna give me this one!” an amused smile took over your mischievous one. soobin held a cake box, cake inside, in his arms. he lifted his shoulders, a laugh shaking them.

“you were taking too long for it to be a simple blueberry pie.” soobin set the cake box on the table by the door to the front. he then put a finger to his lips and tapped it cartoonishly, eyes looking up to the ceiling as he hummed. “and did i say i was going to give you this one?” you nodded quickly.

“i lied,” soobin said. he then dashed to the table where the ingredients were. you dashed after him, trying to start the pie before he did.

the two of you moved frantically around the large kitchen, running into each other and stumbling over things sitting on the floor. you quickly whisked together cornstarch and sugar as you ran to the fridge. pushing soobin out the way with your hip and spilling a little bit of the mixture over you, you retrieved the fresh blueberries with your free hand and ran over to the stove.

soobin already had a saucepan on the stove ready with the heat on. water and lemon juice already inside. you tipped the cornstarch and sugar mixture inside as well, half of it landing on the stove top rather than in the pan. you grabbed the spoon next to the stove and began furiously mixing before you felt hands around your hips. soobin pulled you away from the stove and to the side as he snatched the spoon from your hands and started mixing himself.

a giggle escaped your lips as you turned back to the ingredients table and finished the dough he started. it was already done since it had been refrigerated yesterday. you grabbed the rolling pin and flattened the dough out, making sure to flour the surfaces so the dough doesn’t stick. saving enough of the dough for the lattice of the pie, you pressed the remaining dough into a pie plate that you quickly grabbed. you then trimmed and fluted the edges.

you ran to get a circular knife. soobin must’ve finally noticed that you weren’t hovering around him and turned to see what you were doing, a confident smile on his lips. the smile dropped when he saw that you already had the base of the pie ready. soobin dropped the spoon on the counter next to the stove and dashed to where you were cutting strips into dough.

soobin tried to push you out the way with his hip but you dug your feet into ground and pushed him back. you started cutting the dough faster, the strips coming out sloppy and uneven. majority of them weren’t even the same length.

“accept defeat!” you laughed as you moved soobin’s prying hands away from the dough. the kitchen was filled with laughs and soobin poked a finger into your side, making you jump. “not when i’m so close to glory!”

“let me have this like you said you would!” you exclaimed. you were coming up on the last strips that you needed for the pie. it was hard to cut the dough when soobin kept grabbing at it. giggling, you pressed the circular knife back into the dough moving hurriedly when you got another shove from soobin’s hip.

the circular knife suddenly nicked your finger and you jumped back, dropping the knife, as blood began flowing from the wound. you both freeze and suddenly soobin is grabbing your hand with the bloody finger.

unconsciously, soobin puts your bloody finger in his mouth. all movements freeze as you stare at each other with wide eyes. not even breathing could be heard. the two of you are covered in various different ingredients and the kitchen around you is a mess.

soobin slowly takes your finger out of his mouth, his eyes widening by the second. your heart starts to beat rapidly at the exchange. heat warms up your face in full force and you can see the redness creep up from the back of soobin’s neck.

“oh my god…” soobin finally says. he’s still holding your hand, but, thanks to him the blood is no longer flowing. “oh my god! i’m so sorry, y/n! that was a force of habit.” soobin repeats. you let out an anxious giggle.

“you usually put people’s bloody fingers in your mouth?” you ask teasingly. his cheeks are a deep pink and you giggle at the sight. your heart seems to be beating faster and faster with each passing moment. soobin breaks away from your gaze with great effort, embarrassment written clearly all over his features. the tension between you is high and you start to sweat in your loose clothes and apron.

“i’m so so sorry, i really did not mean to do that,” soobin says lowly. you break into a fit of giggles, amused by the whole thing. slowly, soobin joins you with hesitant chuckles. soon you’re both doubled over, stomachs hurting from laughing so hard.

you’re holding onto the table for support when soobin speaks again. “maybe… we should take a breather…” he trails and you nod in agreement, holding your stomach slightly. soobin takes your hand softly and leads you to the sink where the first aid is. he motions for you to wash your hands. as you wash them, he pulls out a bandaid and begins opening it. once your hands are dry, he gently takes them and wraps the bandaid around the shallow wound on your finger.

soobin smiles shyly at you, his hands still holding yours. “y’know what… you can have the pie.” the blush on his cheeks has spread to his whole face as he spoke. you giggle and nod, “yeah, i would like that.” soobin’s face lights up in sudden realization.

“oh my god! the pie!” he turns to the stove, letting go of your hands, as he runs over to it. he takes the saucepan with the blueberry filling off the heated burner and puts it on one of the ones that’s turned off. you jog over to him, you both inspect the filling as he takes the spoon and mixes it. it was a little thicker than you both intended, but it was fine. you look at each other and start laughing.

“here, you finish the pie, and i’ll start cleaning up. we both look like a mess.” soobin hands you the spoon with a grin and you take it. he tried wiping some of the flour off of him to no avail as he walked over to the ingredients table.

by the time the blueberry filling has cooled, soobin has cleaned the majority of the kitchen. you bring the pan with the filling over to the pie plate and pour it inside the crust, saving the remaining for the pastries. soobin had already gotten the pastries ready for you, so you used the remaining filling for them.

the lattice for the top of the pie came out shotty at best, but it wouldn’t matter once it baked. you put both the pie and the pastries into their own oven and set them to cook. you turned to soobin to see he was about to start washing the dishes.

“i’ll wash them,” you said. he’s basically cleaned the whole kitchen, it was the least you can do. you washed and dried the dishes, putting them back in their respective places. you leaned back onto the counter near the ovens next to soobin.

soobin had updated the chalkboard, adding his three points for the cake he made and your seven points for the pie and pastries. he bumped your shoulder with his. “you won,” he said softly. soobin then grinned and added, “this week.” you chuckled at him, turning to him slightly.

“so what’s my prize?” you asked. the two of you hadn’t actually come up with what the prize would be. you’ve both been too focused on making the baked goods to actually win. soobin’s eyes wided a fraction, blush once again reddening his cheeks slightly. “what do you want?”

you faced forward again as you thought about it. “i don’t know… what are you willing to give me?” soobin’s blush deepens, but you aren’t facing him to notice. after a moment with no answer, you looked over to him, awaiting an answer. his head is angled down and it’s subtly tilted away from you.

soobin let’s out a cough and wipes his face before looking back up at you. “uh— what— um… how about i bake you anything of your choosing?” he sputters. you smile at him, “anything? even if it’s difficult?” soobin playfully scoffed and waved a hand in the air before crossing his arms over his chest.

“nothing is too difficult for me! it can be anything! cake, pie, pastry, cookie, bread, whatever. puffed, filled, turnovers, upside down, layered, anything. whatever you choose!” you thought for a moment, then smiled warmly at him. “what about blueberry bread?” you asked. “but, like really fancy… in honor of my first win and for many to come!”

he laughed at the smirk on your face. “done! when do you want it?” you shrugged at him, “whenever you have the time.” he nodded, more to himself than to you.

you were excited to see how soobin made the blueberry bread. you giggled at the thought of him giving you a fancy set up for something as simple as bread. nodding back to him anyway, the two of you made your way to the front of the bakery to end your shift.

sunoo had an eyebrow raised as you recalled the previous day’s events. he was half listening to your rambling and half paying attention to the customer he was checking out.

“and then,” you said, literally sitting on the edge of your seat, “he put my finger in his mouth!” sunoo whipped around to face you, eyes wide. the customer, who was starting to walk away, froze in their spot, also staring widely at you. “i know,” you nodded.

“he didn’t mean to… he said it was a force of habit, but still. like what? my heart was beating so fast, sunoo, you don’t even understand!” you continued. the customer gave you a wide playful smile and a thumbs up before exiting the shop. sunoo gasped as he took your hands.

sunoo looked at the fresh bandaid on your finger intensely. he then leaned back and looked at you, a knowing smirk on his lips. “what did i say, y/n! what did i say!” he teased. “and what happened after that? you started taking off each other’s clothes?” your face heated.

“no! we went back to baking!” you smacked his arm. sunoo sighed loudly. “lame! you should’ve told him to fill something else.” he gave you a wink as another customer came in.

you covered your flushed face with your hands. “sunoo!” you harshly whispered. he just laughed at you.

when you went into the bakery for your shift that day, you were surprised to see that soobin had already prepared your prize. in the back, the ingredients table was decorated with a flowery tablecloth. there was a pretty lace doily under where the plate of blueberry bread sat. candles were lit and there was a small note that read: for the talented y/n y/l/n in a bold cursive font.

soobin then came up to you, he was dressed very nicely with a button up shirt tucked into black slacks. there was a matching black tie tied around his neck. he held a metal plate with a tea towel and wrapped silverware on it in one hand, the other arm pressed behind his back.

“for you, my dear.” he held the metal plate towards you in a bow. you let out a small laugh at the whole scene as you took the contents from the plate. heart skipping a beat. just then did you realize that soobin had drawn a cartoonish mustache on his upper lip. loud belly laughs erupted from you and you leaned against the table for support. “the mustache?” you managed to breathe out, it being followed by another fit of laughter.

soobin joined you, relaxing his stiff stance. he sat the metal plate on the table. “you said make it fancy! i made it fancy!” you giggled and nodded, “you sure did!” he motioned towards the blueberry bread with a white gloved hand. you had to stifle your laugh at it.

“well? go on and try it!” you smiled at him and grabbed the knife from the wrapped silverware he had given you. you cut a slice of blueberry bread off the loaf and sat it on the awaiting plate next to it. grabbing your fork, you waved it in the air with a giggle and then used it to grab a piece of the bread. you ate the piece and thought for a moment as you swallowed it.

“wow!” you said as you grabbed another piece, “this is delicious!” soobin smirked smugly and raised his hands. “what can i say? i’m actually gordon ramsey.” you choked a little on the bread as you erupted into laughter. “sure…” you trailed playfully.

it’s been a little over a month since you’ve started working at nap of a star bakery, and it has been the best job you’ve ever had thus far. the little competition between you and soobin had turned from small battles to a full blown war. the two of you were baking so much to garner extra points that the bakery had a bunch of overstock and mrs. choi had to tell you both to slow down.

in that time, you and soobin have grown closer than ever. “i’m starting to feel replaced,” sunoo had said to you the other day, after telling him how soobin cheated to win that week. the competition had gotten so serious between the two of you that you were now competing to see who was the better baker. you even brought sunoo to the bakery a couple of times to be the judge.

you and soobin were once again frantically running around the kitchen, this time fighting over who gets to bake the wedding cake a customer ordered. you held a large plastic tray in your hands, running over to the ingredients table when your foot caught on a bag of flour and you and the plastic tray suddenly went flying. hands quickly caught your waist and steadied you before any real damage could happen. the tray made a loud noise as it landed on the ground, startling you more.

you breathed heavily in shock as you turned to look at soobin, your eyes wide. “woah,” you said. you both broke out into laughter. “jesus, y/n, you almost just saw the light.” soobin’s hands were still on your waist as you turned to face him fully. “thankfully you were here!”

soobin removed his hands and your waist felt cold without them. “maybe we should just work together on this one…” he trailed as he looked around the mess of the kitchen. “i mean, this is someone’s wedding cake after all.” you nodded in agreement, chuckling a little. he smiled warmly at you.

reaching up to his face, you giggled, “you have flour on your nose.” you purposely wiped flour on him and he scrunched his nose a little, a small grin on his lips. soobin takes his flour covered hands and wipes them across your cheeks. “you have flour on your cheeks,” he says. you raise your eyebrows as you look at him.

the two of you are laughing softly as you stare at each other. you dip your hands into the flour sitting on the table and cup both of soobin’s cheeks with your hands. this is a side game you and soobin have started recently, going up to each other with flour and saying that the other has flour on them. it makes even more of a mess, and mrs. choi is always surprised to see you when you go back to the front of the bakery, but it’s fun.

you’ve been secretly drawing hearts with flour on him and giggling at his confused stare when you wouldn’t tell him what you drew. it was always in a place he couldn’t see or reach.

“can you guess what i’m about to say?” you ask him. you feel his cheeks lift into a smile and see his dimples pop out. he starts laughing, “you have flour on your cheeks?” giggling at him, you squeeze his face a little.

“you have flour on your cheeks.”

you’re mere inches away from each other. somehow, soobin’s hands have found their way back to your waist and you’re both giggling as you stare into each other’s eyes. once the giggles subside and nothing but smiles are left, you notice an emotion you can’t figure out swirl in soobin’s eyes.

your heart is beating rapidly in your chest as you realize your sudden closeness and you watch as soobin’s eyes briefly flicker down to your lips. inhaling, you decide to just go for it and act on your emotions. you bring your lips to soobin’s, pressing them together softly. his hands tighten slightly at your waist as he kisses you back.

the kiss is slow and intimate. for a while now you’ve been crushing on him, ever since the day he made you that blueberry bread as a prize. sunoo has teased you mercilessly about it, calling himself cupid even though he had no hand in your blossoming feelings. the times when you brought him to the bakery to judge, he would drop not so subtle hints about your crush. you had to always give him a harsh glare over soobin’s shoulder.

your arms wrapped around soobin’s neck, pulling him closer to you as the kiss deepened. your bodies were pressed up against each other. pulling away from the kiss slightly, you tried to breathe. your breath lightly fanned his cheek, lifting some of the flour off of it. soobin leaned towards you and kissed you passionately, his arms wrapping tighter around your waist.

when you broke apart, you both were breathing heavily, lips plumped at the sudden exchange. you smiled a little, “i’ve been waiting for you to do that.” soobin chuckled. “i’m sorry i didn’t do it sooner.” you both leaned in for another kiss but jumped apart when you heard the door to the front open.

mrs. choi took one good look at the two of you and shook her head in amusement. “how the two of you always manage to get covered in so much flour always amuses me!” she held up two small pieces of paper. “more orders! business is booming!” she laughed and the two of you awkwardly joined her. once she left, you and soobin looked at each other and started to laugh. you were absolutely covered in flour, mrs. choi was right. soobin nodded his head over to the abandoned dough you had started and the two of you began working on the wedding cake again. this time, together.

it was after hours at the bakery and you and soobin had your friends sitting at one of the tables at the front of the bakery so they could be the judges of who’s baked goods were better. you had met each other’s friends a couple times now through various judging events, so when you asked them to judge the final round to put it all to rest, they accepted.

today, you were going to find out just how much of a better baker you are than soobin. and you are gonna laugh in his face when everyone says how good your baked goods are. currently, you and soobin were in the back preparing your dishes. you had decided on a french profiterole cake while soobin had decided on a gâteau basque cake. you knew your cake was delicious, you had been practicing ever since you and soobin decided that you should have one last round to see who the greatest baker was.

soobin held a small plate out with a small slice of the cake he had made for the challenge out to you. you raised your eyebrows in shock and smiled up to him. “you trying to boost your ego before the judgment?” you asked as you took the fork from him and took a bite of the cake. your eyes widen at the flavor. “this is amazing, soobin! oh my god!” maybe you weren’t gonna win this after all…

soobin smiled warmly at you as he held up a small, rolled up piece of paper. you sat the plate down on the nearby table and took it from him, unrolling it. “be mine?” he asked, right as your eyes trailed over the same words on the paper. a smile broke out on your face and you stared up at him. he held another small plate on it, a small cake flower in the center. you giggled as you took the plate from him. “of course i’ll be yours!”

you sat the plate with the flower next to the plate with the slice of cake as you wrapped your arms around soobin’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss. he laughed softly against your lips and pulled you close.

“hello?” you heard a voice drag out from the front of the bakery. “when are we going to get to judge? i didn’t come here hungry for nothing!” you heard muffled voices and then a “shh! shut up beomgyu! what if they’re getting busy? you know how badly he needs that.”

giggling, you pulled away from soobin, giggling harder at his flushed cheeks. you held his hand and looked longingly at him. “you ready?” you asked. soobin nodded, then smirked a little. “you ready to get told you’re the second best baker?”

you rolled your eyes at him playfully, letting go of his hand so that you can grab your cake. the two of you brought your cakes out to the front and your friends erupted into claps. “finally!” soobin’s friend beomgyu had said. his arm got playfully hit by the guy next to him, who you’ve come to know as yeonjun.

“i love you, y/n, but if your cake tastes like shit i’m spitting it out and looking at you with the upmost betrayal. don’t embarrass me here after i’ve been talking you up!” sunoo teased as you and soobin sat your cakes down in front of them. you laughed at him, holding a hand to your chest in mock hurt.

there were already empty plates and silverware placed in front of all of your friends. “alright!” you started. “welcome to the great bake off! yes, the great british bake off was copyrighted… but that’s okay!” laughter sounded around you as you clapped your hands together. you looked over at soobin, “do you wanna go first or do you want me to go first?”

soobin shrugged. “i’ll go first.” he cut slices of his cake and put them each on your friends’ empty plates. “alright, you already know how the judging works. each judge will take a bite from the food and we’ll go down a line one by one for statements. dig in!” soobin spoke. your friends did just that, murmurs of how good the cake was coming from them.

“alright, kai, you’re up!” kai hummed and put a finger to his chin as he thought. “it was absolutely disgusting,” he said as he took another bite. “seriously soobin, what is wrong with you?” kai kept eating the cake as you all laughed.

taehyun nodded in approval, praising soobin for how good of a job he did with the cake. yeonjun stood from the table, did a cartwheel, and sat back down before calmly saying that it was delicious. you and sunoo stared at him with wide eyes as you saw the regret and slight embarrassment form on his heated face. beomgyu hummed, dramatically putting a finger to his lips and tapping as he kept taking more bites. he hummed again.

soobin walked up to him and grabbed him around the collarbones, shaking him slightly as everyone laughed. “it’s really good!” beomgyu said as he sat his fork down, plate empty. yeonjun shook his head at him. sunoo then cleared his throat, sitting up straight. “it was very delicious, but not as good as y/n’s cake!” he said. you laughed, “you haven't even tasted mine yet!” sunoo shot you a glare with wide eyes as he shushed you.

you cut up slices of your cake for the judges, putting one on each of their plates. they barely took a bite of your cake before they all jumped up from their seats and started loudly clapping. dramatically saying how wonderful your cake is and how their taste buds have never graced such perfection. you couldn’t help the laugh that spilled from your mouth at them.

“fantastic! you are truly are the best baker that ever lived!” taehyun exclaimed, clapping hard. “truly, truly. i mean, this cake is godly! higher than that even!” sunoo added as he dramatically took another bite and melted back down into his chair. you shook your head at them.

you looked over to soobin, pouting. he laughed softly at your acceptance of defeat. his cake was absolutely amazing…

soobin came over to you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. you looked at him as he smiled down at you. playfully, you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. soobin placed a kiss on the top of your head, leaning his head against yours as you both watched the dramatic appraisal from both of your friends.

taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka

masterlist┊part two┊request rules ༘ ˚· ౨ৎ ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ

690 notes · View notes

wanders-in-wonderland · 8 months

Text

Taken: Refusal

It’s past 8pm and you’re walking to your car, one of the last people in the office to leave again. He smiles darkly as he hears the click of your heels against the asphalt, coming towards him. He’s leaning against the wall, covered by the shadow of the parking garage, waiting for you. Your attention is on your purse as you dig through it, looking for your keys. You don’t stand a chance when he surges out of his hiding spot towards you. He grabs you by the throat and pulls your back against his front and shoves a syringe into your arm with his free hand. You’re out cold before you even have time to react.

He catches your body easily, carrying you to your car. He slides your prone body into the trunk, closes the lid, gets into the front seat, and drives away.

Thirty minutes later, he pulls into the garage of a house at the edge of town, miles away from anything and anyone else. He pulls you out of the trunk and carries you into the house, down the stairs, into the basement. There, he gets to work.

The basement room is well-lit and set up almost like a bedroom. A beautiful king-sized bed sits in the middle of the room with a dark wooden dresser against the wall, and a second door leading to a well-decorated bathroom. The only thing out of place is the large St. Andrew’s cross opposite the bed. He hums slightly as he works, feeling giddy with excitement at finally having you here. He‘s not in a rush, he’d injected you with enough sedative to keep you unconscious for several hours, giving him plenty of time to do what he needs to.

The first thing he does is cut away your clothes. He takes care not to accidentally nick you with the knife and smooths his hands across your body gently, almost reverently. He sighs a little, you aren’t going to be happy when you wake up, but soon, he’ll show you how good it is here. And you’ll be so happy with him.

He ties your naked body to the cross, your arms and legs spread eagle and affixed to the wood with rope. He wraps an extra piece of rope around your waist to keep you in place so you won’t be able to move when you wake up.

He runs his fingers up your thigh, watching as goosebumps erupt in his wake. Your skin is so soft. His fingers keep going upwards, going to between your legs as he parts your folds with his fingers. He slides his finger over your clit, rubbing gently at first, then with more pressure. Your breathing hitches and your body twitches slightly as the pleasure permeates into your unconscious mind. He smiles, rubbing faster and harder against your clit. He slides a second finger against your slit, feeling the moisture starting to gather. You’re so responsive and you’re not even awake yet. He pulls his fingers away, not wanting to have too much fun quite yet. You make a small, simpering noise, almost like you want him to keep going.

He steps away for a second, grabbing a ball gag from his pile of toys. He pulls your hair back gently, opens your mouth, and clips the gag into place. You look so pretty, all tied up and gagged. He grabs a small remote-controlled bullet vibrator next, along with a harness fitted specially for it. He slides the vibrator against you, positioning it directly on your hard little clit and latches the harness around you, keeping the vibrator flush against you. He clicks the remote, and watches as the vibrator starts to buzz at its lowest setting against your clit.

Your body reacts immediately. Your cheeks flush, your breathing deepens, and your legs start to tremble. He runs his fingers against your slit, finding you dripping wet and your pretty pussy clenching. He collects some of your slick on his fingers and brings it to his mouth, savoring the taste of your pussy. He takes a few steps back, sitting down on the bed as he waits.

—

You slowly come into consciousness, feeling your body clench as something is pressed up against your pussy. Something that feels so good. But before you can fully appreciate it, alarm bells are going off in your head. What happened? Where are you? The last thing you remember was going to your car, and then…

You start, remembering the man, being grabbed, the sting of the syringe. Your eyes fly open and you take in several things at once. You’re naked, you’re tied to a cross, you’re gagged, and you’re so close to cumming.

You wail into the gag but the sound is muffled and desperate. Your eyes dart around the room, blinking against the light.

“Welcome back, darling.”

Your eyes shoot to the man. You don’t understand. But before you can think, you see the man click a remote and the vibrating on your clit intensifies. Suddenly all you can think of is the pleasure that’s shooting through your body. You arch your back as much as you can and you scream into the gag as you cum hard. You shake in the ropes slightly as you come down from your high, trembling as the aftershocks hit you and the vibrator is still going strong. Your hips thrust, trying to dislodge the vibrator that’s slowly pushing you towards overstimulation. You wail desperately against the gag. He smiles as he clicks the remote one more time and the vibrations stop.

You’re breathing heavily as you hang from the cross, your body going slack. You whimper into the gag softly.

“That went even better than I’d planned,” he said, clearly proud of himself. He’s deranged, you think to yourself. What the fuck is happening?

“Here I was thinking you’d get nicely started with that bullet vibrator, I didn’t think you’d cum like that right when you woke up. You, my dear, are deliciously responsive.”

He walked towards you, brushing his fingers against your cheek. You shook him off, moving your head has much as you could.

“Tsk tsk don’t be like that.”

“LET ME GO!” You screamed through the gag. It sounded more like “EE ME OO.” But he seemed to get the point.

“Now now let me talk first. You’ll want to hear me out. I know exactly who you are and what I’m doing. I took you and I am keeping you and the sooner you accept that, the better it will all be.” You shake your head in confusion.

“You see, I know your type, the pretty girl with not much in your life. You have a mediocre job, very few friends, no boyfriend, hardly any family. No one will miss you. No one will look for you.” As he speaks, his fingers begin to trail up and down your torso. He circles your breasts, gently rubbing your stomach before coming to a stop right above your pelvis.

Real fear strikes you in that moment. He’s right. No one would come for you. You don’t even know if anyone would file a missing person’s report. Maybe your boss when you don’t show up for work but realistically, they’d just hire someone else to replace you in a few weeks. You’re shaking as you stare back at him.

“Now, lucky for you, I think you’re perfect for me. Exactly what I’m looking for in a pretty little pet. All it’s gonna take is a little training.”

Your eyes widen and you scream objections into the gag. He looks annoyed now, and the hand that was rubbing gentle circles against your hip suddenly tightened into a bruising grip. He came in close, close enough for you to see the flecks of color in his eyes.

“You were doing so well, don’t make me punish you already.”

You scream even more, wailing, hoping that maybe someone will hear you and come to help. His bruising grip on your hip loosens for a second and suddenly, he slaps you across the face.

You start in pain but mostly in shock and fear. The slap scared you more than it hurt you. Tears welled up in your eyes and you stared back at him desperately.

“Now are you going to be a good girl?” His voice was low and dark, underpined with something that you couldn’t decipher.

You shake your head, fear overriding your sense of self-preservation as you buck and thrash on the cross as if it’ll help you get free.

“Fine, if you won’t be good, I’ll show you what happens to bad girls.”

You struggle harder, desperately trying to get free. He leaves your line of sight and eventually, you tire and start to sag in your ropes. You hear a click, and suddenly, the vibrator against your clit, the one you’d all but forgotten about in your fear, roars to life. It vibrates furiously against your clit, at an intensity so much higher than before and you feel your pussy clench as you screams at the stimulation. Your previous orgasm seemed so long ago but the violent stimulation quickly overwhelms you.

You whine and shake as you feel yourself rushing to another orgasm.

“Aw honey are you going to cum again? You filthy little whore cumming for your kidnapper while you’re tied up.”

You feel your orgasm coming, the feeling cresting inside of you, when suddenly, the vibrator clicks off.

“No, cumming is for good girls and you were bad.”

You moan into the gag, staring at him with tears in your eyes. Your hips gyrate, trying to find the stimulation to push yourself over the edge but your orgasm is fading quickly.

“You don’t deserve to cum. No, you deserve to be punished.” The dark promise in his voice made your heart pound with fear, but your pussy clenched in response.

He walked up to your body, looking down at your puffy little clit, straining against the vibrator attached to you. He ran his fingers gently over your button, chuckling as you bucked and groaned.

“You’re soaking wet. The perfect little whore for me.” He growled into your ear and kissed the side of your neck softly before sinking his teeth in, feeling you flinch and grow taut as he gently lapped at the sting he’d inflicted. His fingers danced along your slit, running around your lips and clit but never entering you, despite how badly you wanted him to.

“I think this bad little girl needs to think about her mistakes.” He says and he pulls away. He walks a few steps away and you wail against the gag.

“NO PLEASE, DON’T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS!” It comes out garbled but he seems to understand. “You need to learn your lesson, darling.”

He smiles then he leaves. You lean against the cross, feeling drained and defeated but all of a sudden, the vibrator comes to life again. You shriek and thrash, feeling the pleasure in your clit spread as you rush toward an orgasm. But like before, right as you were about to cum, the vibrator stops. You scream desperately, moaning, begging incoherently behind the gag. As the orgasm ebbs away, the vibrator starts again.

#kidnap fantasy #somno fantasy #overstim kink #dark fantasy #nsft concept #rap3 fantasy #edging kink #mind break

768 notes · View notes

fluffylino · 5 months

Text

zombie!minho pt 4

minho finally starts his new meds..but the side effects are a bit strange~

-contains mature themes

"its much stronger than the last medication...thats what the doc told me"

minho announced, telling you word for word what the doctor had prescribed him. he had just stepped back inside after visiting the doctor for his monthly checkup. it was time for a newer improved medication.

"but its effect is immediate. it'll get rid of my sudden fatigue and zoning out"

he took his shoes off, placing it down on the shoe rack.

"and what else?" you asked, hopping around him.

"i have to take two tablets once every month. the yellow one has to be taken before the blue one." minho said, taking his beanie and jacket off. he stretched his arms, dangling the packet infront of your face.

"any side effects?"

"he described it like how you get your period every month for 4 to 8 days, ill get something similar. instead of bleeding, ovulating and all, i'll get some kind of heat."

"heat...as in?"

the kinda heat you knew was the one you had read in abo fanfictions.

well those were...intense. if it were anything like that you weren't prepared.

"my sex drive will increase drastically in the first 24 hours and may persist for the next 48 hours...so basically ill be really fucking horny"

he admitted, sitting down next to you. he leaned his head on your shoulder. so that meant his body would be adjusting. trying to go back to his normal self.

"but he did mention that with every month that side effect will gradually become less. but the first dose is always pretty bad to handle."

"it kicks in about 2 hours after i take it. so i think ill have it tomorrow morning."

"yeah, i am a bit worried though"

how could you not be?

"i doubt it'll be that bad. if it takes away that hunger i feel then i don't mind being horny 24/7" he joked but you didn't find it that funny.

"minho..." your voice faded out. "your pant.." he looked down at his pants. there was a wet patch on his crotch. he placed his cup of coffee down.

"fuck i just showered"

you couldn't help but let your eyes trail down his body. he was hard. and his neck was a shade of dark pink. It had only been an hour and the symptoms were already showing up.

minho disappeared into the room for what seemed like hours. you peeked into the room, mouth dropping open.

he was a complete wreck.

stroking his length at an inhumane pace. choked out moans leaving him. his eyes were shut and his head thrown back against the chair.

stepping inside, you creeped up on him. he didn't notice. that was until you dropped down on your knees infront of him. hands holding his knees in place.

"go away"b minho hissed out. you ignored him, swatting his hand off his dick.

"what are you doi-...aahhh" you took his entire length into your mouth. moaning at the taste of his precum. his fingers tangled into your hair, thrusting up. you gagged at how deep he went.

"i warned you." he gritted out and then you knew you couldn't back out. not like you even wanted to.

"min-" you were cut off by his hand.

"i'm going to fuck you right now"

"right here" vhe announced.

bending you over the kitchen counter. you gasped as he pushed into you in one swift motion. he was still hard and leaking. his cum seeped out of you.

your eyes rolling back, at the feeling of it dripping down the insides of your thighs.

"keep it all inside"

you clenched, trying to not let it run down your thighs. but he was so far deep inside your cunt, you couldn't think.

"fill you up. m' gonna breed you. make you take all of me"

"pathetic."

you couldn't help but cry from the overstimulation.

minho never spoke so much during sex. you were used to silence. it was mostly him groaning.

so hearing him say such filthy things made you submit to him completely. made you more compliant. you let him use you. fuck you. breed you. deepthroat you. anywhere. anytime during the day.

"whats wrong? my pretty dick in your slutty little pussy rendered you speechless?"

his fingers pushed your head down, against the ice cold counter. forcing you to stand on your tippy toes, your legs began to shake.

"gonna eat you ah- mark you u-up and show everyone you're mine. all mine."

minho let out in a breathy voice, nipping at your exposed skin. his teeth digging into you just hard enough to leave bruises. running his tongue over your sensitive skin, to ease the soreness.

"aahhh-nng" you whined, spit rolling off the side of your mouth and onto the counter. you closed your eyes, focusing on him.

him railing you. his other hand intertwined with yours. his hot breath against your back. his thick muscular thighs caging you in. his high pitched moans. his silent praises as you took him so well.

so eagerly. so sweetly.

you were going to cum again for the fourth time. and minho had cum only once. or more like he couldn't cum any faster until he had tired himself out.

now you had finally understood why the doctor had said that.

maybe this was a good thing. he was the most alive he had ever been.

#fluffylino works #zombie minho #lee minho smut #lee know smut #lee minho imagines #lee know imagines #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz drabbles #bang chan smut #dom!lee know #mean dom minho

965 notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 1 month

Text

BFG (6)

Summary: He’s new to town and just your type…

Pairing: Reacher x Plussized!Reader

Warnings: fluff, light smut, unprotected sex, cowgirl, angst

A/N: Please consider that I do not follow the exact storyline of season one. Some characters known from the show may appear.

Catch up here: BFG (5)

BFG masterlist

“Reacher stay away from KJ for the time being. We need to keep things low.”

You hear Reacher and someone else argue outside of your house. You know the voice. It must be Oscar Finley, the Chief of Detectives of your sleepy little town.

He likes to come around for coffee, a slice of pie, and a conversation. Finley likes that you are not into gossip and are not from Margrave. Once in a while, he sits at your café to talk to you. - If he finds the time.

“I won’t make any promises if he doesn’t leave Y/N and her business alone,” Reacher’s deep voice dominates the conversation. “He got lucky that you and Roscoe stopped me before I killed him.”

“Reacher, we don’t kill people out of anger.”

“You don’t kill them,” you can hear the smirk in Reacher’s voice. “If he doesn’t stay away from my woman, he’ll regret it.”

Your heart flutters listening to the things Reacher says about you. He tells Finley that you are important to him and that he won’t let anyone hurt you.

“I gotta get inside. I promised Y/N to be on time,” Reacher says. “We will meet tomorrow, and talk about our next steps. Keep it low until then.”

“Keep it low?” Finley asks. “You are the one storming into the restaurant like an angry bull only to knock KJ and his friends out.”

Reacher chuckles.

“I mean it. We need to be smart. If what we assume is true, we need to be careful. We don’t want to put Y/N or anyone else in this town in danger.”

“We won’t,” Reacher says and opens your door. He silently closes it and sighs deeply.

“Hi,” you greet Reacher. “How was your…” You gasp when your eyes land on his bloody shirt and split knuckles. “No! You got hurt.” You grab his wrist to guide him upstairs and inside your bedroom. “Sit down, I gotta check on you.”

He takes off his shirt, dropping it to the ground. “It’s not my blood.” Reacher shows you his chest. “See. There is nothing to worry about.”

“Your hands,” you remind him of his split knuckles. “You did something to KJ. Right?”

Reacher watches you walk inside the bathroom to get a first aid kit.

“It’s nothing, peach pie. I had it much worse.”

“That’s no reason to not be worried about you,” you point out as you place the first aid kit on the bed. “I’ll clean the cuts and take care of you.”

“You took very good care of me since we met,” Reacher grabs your hips to guide you between his spread legs. “Why don’t you let me take care of you tonight?” He looks up at you while guiding your hands to his shoulders.

“Reacher,” you breathe his name. “Stop distracting me! I’m angry at you for getting hurt.”

He gives you one of his rare smiles. “Come here, peach pie,” he grabs you and helps you straddle his lap. “Much better. Now, you can check on me while I check on you.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you wrap one arm around his neck while he is having a blast groping your ass. “Reacher!”

“My hands are fine, Y/N,” he purrs your name. “It’s nothing, really. I swear it doesn’t even hurt.”

“I’ll clean it either way,” you press your lips to his cheek. “Maybe in the showers to get every inch of you clean.”

“Maybe you should get me dirty before you try to get me clean,” he cocks a brow when you wrap your other arm around his neck too. “Or I’ll get you dirty.”

“You’re so…” He claims your lips in a heated kiss before you can say more. Reacher wraps his strong arms around your body and holds you close to his chest. “Reacher.”

“Come on, peach pie. Let me have a taste of your sweetness again before we go back to scolding me for getting hurt.”

Reacher watches you move on top of him. He grips your hips tighter to guide your movement. “You look so good on top of me,” he husks your name and calls you his sweet peach pie again. “I know you are close.”

You hope that he doesn’t lie. Riding a man is something you don’t feel comfortable most of the time. But you trust Reacher, and he’s strong enough to guide your movement and take every swirl of your hips. “Reacher.”

“I’ve got you, baby. Just let go.” He looks up at you in adoration, mesmerized by the sight of you. “If not, I’ll explode inside of your perfect little cunt.”

“Do it,” you lean over his body to kiss him softly. “Come on. I want to feel it.” You grind into him, pushing yourself and Reacher slowly toward you high. “Fill me up. Leave a reminder that you’ve been here at all.”

It took you two weeks to clean your diner and replace the broken windows. You reopened the diner and acted like nothing happened.

If you show weakness in front of men like KJ, you are done for. They can sense fear and try to hit your weak spot.

Reacher won’t stick around for much longer, even though he spent most of his free time with you.

You heard rumors about the deaths of Kliner, KJ, and some other people involved in money laundry.

You had to hear from Roscoe that one of the victims of KJ’s crimes was Reacher’s brother. Joe Reacher fell victim to his investigations.

Reacher didn’t want to talk about his loss, or what happened when he was not with you.

One night he stormed into your house, told you to hide, and pushed a shotgun into your hands. He came back hours later, battered and bruised but alive.

Reacher spent the night with you, fucking all the tension out of your body. He held you tight and promised that the danger was over and that no one would ever threaten you again.

“Y/N, did you hear me?” Sally Ann brings you out of your thoughts. “Are you alright?” she asks, worriedly watching you clean the counter. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” you give her a pained smile. You sigh and shake your head. “It’s nothing. Just a little headache.”

The truth is, you are distracted because you count the minutes before Reacher tells you that he will leave town forever.

Reacher never stays in one place for longer than needed.

This won’t change only because you had sex a few times.

The day you feared the most arrived two days later. Reacher packed his things and nervously shuffled around your kitchen. He tried to find the right words to say his goodbyes.

He watched you walk inside the kitchen unsure how to tell you it was time to leave.

You showed mercy and took the lead. There was no use in pretending he’ll stay to be with you.

“So, this is goodbye, I guess,” you step before him to run your hand over his wide chest, gently patting it. “I’m gonna miss having you around to eat the leftovers. You’ve got strong hands to repair things too.”

He chuckles, deep and rich.

“Maybe I’ll come back to taste your peach pie,” he smirks, making you chuckle.

“Reacher don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep,” your eyes sadden, but you smile, nonetheless. You knew from the beginning that he would leave town sooner than later. “But, if you want to come back one day,” you place the key to your house in his hand and close his hand, “you are welcome to stay here again.”

“If I ever come back to town, it’s for you,” he stuffs the keys in his pocket to cup your face. Reacher kisses you softly, savoring the moment you melt into him.

You wrap your arms around his waistline and hide your face in his chest. Fuck, you will miss him like hell. “If you ever come back, I’ll be very happy. The dog too.”

He kisses the top of your head and wraps his arms around you to hold you for a while. Reacher whispers your name and kisses your temple a few times before parting from you.

“I should go now,” he whispers.

“I know…”

You reluctantly let go of Reacher and turn to leave the kitchen to have a moment to calm down and push the tears away. You take deep breaths and try not to cry when he follows you.

“If you ever need my help,” he cups your face, “I left a number on your nightstand. She’s a friend and knows how to find me.”

“Okay,” you swallow thickly. “I want you to be careful. Don’t make me find you to slap your ass.”

He chuckles. “I promise to watch my back.” Reacher kisses you one last time. “I swear.”

“Good.”

You watch him step out of your house and wring your hands.

Watching Reacher walk away is hard. It breaks your heart because he takes a part of you with him.

He managed to worm his way into your heart within a few weeks, and you don’t know if you’ll ever recover from this whirlwind romance, or whatever you want to call what you had with him.

When he’s out of sight you close the door and start to cry.

“Fuck,” you curse yourself for falling for him.

How could you do this to yourself?

BFG (7)

Tags in reblog.

#jack reacher #reacher x reader #reacher x female reader #plussized!reader #reacher x you #reacher x y/n #BFG (6)#reacher fanfiction #jack reacher x reader

187 notes · View notes

blue-jisungs · 29 days

Text

JASMINE

author's note. this is so cliche i’m so sorry .. also tysm @slytherinshua for the banner<333

summary. just bf hao adoring his gf:(

word count. 720

before you minghao had this tendency to sit in silence, alone in his room and do his hobbies. completely shut off from the world, silence or soft jazz music filling his apartment; just him and his reading, painting, tea brewing or mediating. he enjoyed enjoying his hobbies alone.

minghao loves, adores art. it’s no secret. he always has and probably will, even when he’s wrinkly and old. and he considers himself a lucky for that, and for you. because you are art itself.

which is why, with time he realized that he could combine two things he loves together.

as cocky as he can get, minghao felt a little shy and preferred to only sketch you at first. he bought a special sketchbook, grainy and yellowish sheets ready to be filled with various doodles of (mostly) you.

while you slept, did your assignments, cooked or watered plants. minghao could just stare and you in all those mundane moments, finding endless inspiration. but nothing more than that: your figure was engraved in the depth of his sketchbook, for now.

sometimes he’d hide behind closed doors, sinking in his own world. when your relationship was still fairly fresh, you were nervous to disturb him. but with time it changed, as he progressively left his door open and hinted on having you with him.

just like today.

rain drumming a steady rhythm on the window, pleasantly blending with the sounds of jazz in the room. warm light shone on minghao’s painfully white canvas.

he was tapping his finger against the brush, hands resting on his thighs. the smell of vanilla candles and fresh laundry filled his senses as he spaced out, observing the raindrops rolling down the glass.

there was will to paint but no inspiration.

letting out a deep sigh, as if that was going to change something, he closed his eyes.

then, he heard soft paddled sound of your footsteps. a smile subconsciously bloomed on his face and then the sound became clearer.

he peeked an eye open and saw your figure standing in the doorframe. you grinned upon the cute sight and then stepped closer to put the small tray on a wooden stool next to him, careful not to spill his paint water.

the delicious smell of jasmine tea hit his nostrils and then he observed you grab one of the cut up fruits.

“how’s it going?” you asked tenderly and tapped his chin. minghao opened his mouth and let you feed him, the sweet taste of his favorite snack melting on his tongue.

“quite fruitless” he snickered and you snorted at the pun. then you glanced at the blank canvas.

his gaze lingered on you and minghao put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer ever so gently. “i could paint your beauty… that’s if… you know, let me”

as your lips fell agape and blush creeped on your cheeks, you were too speechless to respond.

he smiled softly and rubbed his thumbs on your skin.

“yeah, okay. if you want!” you grinned, noticing how his face lit up “do you want me to pose or something?”

“no, you can just… be, you know? keep me company” minghao hummed and you leaned closer, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“understood. let me just grab my book then, mr painter” you announced and left, trying to tone down your excitement.

sitting on top of the world

just cue

missing a puzzle i swear it’s you

while your boyfriend painted you, basking in the gentle yellow light as you read, the rain started to ease out. time passed by slowly but in a pleasant manner, you two occasionally exchanging glances.

you were curious about the paining, especially when you noticed he mostly used two colors.

the lecture in your hands began to get boring which caused your eyes to slowly drop. minghao noticed this and his heart squeezed upon the cute sight.

by the time he was done, you dozed off in the armchair.

he stood up and stretched, admiring his artwork.

then, he walked up to his muse and wrapped a warm blanket around your resting figure.

you know i can paint the world

sitting there in black and gold

you’re the perfect chemical

i gotta test i gotta know

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu

180 notes · View notes

nrdmssgs · 11 months

Text

Sub König scenario

Masterlist

A short scenario for König helping the reader to discover, she can dom him. Finding out, she hasn't tried such a role before and teaching her little by little. This is pure smut, so everything under cut, sorry. Yes, there is dom scenario as well.

He doesn`t open up this side of him, till you are already dating for some time.

The first time he manifests his need to be in subspace sometimes, it's almost unconscious.

He falls sick with cold, and you take care of him and pamper him for the whole day. After many hours of coughing and sniffing, he finally falls asleep under blankets with your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers playing with his hair.

However, his slumber doesn't last long: at some point, König wakes up and decides, that all this time he's been cuddling his way into sex. You wake up from his hot hardness pressed between your thighs. He doesn't dare to move your panties and slide in till you let him. “It's ok, love. Go on.”

And then with one swift push, he fills you completely. His kisses still taste like cough syrup and honey. His hands squeeze your hips in a desperate attempt to steady himself and not go too harsh on you.

He moans and whines so loud, you're afraid, he might wake up the neighbors. So you cover his lips with your hands, only for him to start sucking on your digits.

That's when he groans “Liebe… Please. I need to cum. Please!”. At first, you don't get it, as you believe, he wanted you to do something special.

But all he needed so desperately was your permission. He gave you a complete control over his body and hoped, you'd take it.

So you did. “Of course, König,” you managed to answer breathlessly, while he moved in and out. “Cum for me”. Never before was he so loud and intense. Your chest and belly were covered with hot, sticky seed, your face was wet with his tears. König kept kissing your swollen lips, rubbing his bare skin against you chest, mixing your scents.

When he feels better again, you ask him, if he remembers, what happened that night? Or maybe he was just affected by fever…

It turns out, not only he remembers it, he replays the events of that night almost constantly. This becomes one of his sweetest and most desirable fantasies.

One thought about it and he peppers your face with kisses once again. “It felt so good, thank you, Liebe!”

As much as you want to keep him as happy and satisfied as now, you are feeling uneasy, since you didn't have much experience at being the top.

This doesn't escape König, so he proceeds to it in the other way. He slowly and gradually eases you to the idea of being in charge, having him completely at your mercy, owning him.

Every your single step on this way makes him absolutely ecstatic. You whispered him, he was yours, at the party? Be ready to leave this place in the next few minutes. He may hold on till you're in your car, but then he eats you out, grunting and groaning. You commanded him to get on his knees, so that you don't have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss him? The man is hard and absolutely breathless in the next minutes.

He is not the type to completely give up the initiative. König still might pounce on you the moment you two cross the threshold of your house. But the moments, when he feels like a fucktoy, when you straddle him and cum repeatedly all over his throbbing cock, deciding how hard and at what pace will you two go… These are just pure ecstasy to him.

König will, in some time, show you more ways of making him feel weak, drowning him in your merciful touches, owning every inch of him… He doesn't rush it. He has been waiting for you too long to now frivolously frighten you with too much intensity of his preferences.

721 notes · View notes

mrsriddles-blog · 4 months

Text

Nightmare | M.R

Pairing: Slytherin Fem Reader X Mattheo Riddle

WC: 3.5K

Warnings/Notes: Mild Language, Violence, Implied Smut, Angst, etc.

Summary: Mattheo has developed an infatuation with you, the schools notorious badass.

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep

If I shall die before I ‘wake

I pray the Lord my soul to take

No one truly understood how Mattheo Riddle—the playboy of the school who suddenly wasn’t playing around anymore—was infatuated with Y/n Y/l/n. She was a girl that not many people wanted to mess around with. She had no problem calling people out on their bullshit, nor did she have a problem being honest—brutally honest.

She had the mouth of a sailor and she was as crude as the guys at the school. She hardly put up with any girls just because she didn’t want anything to do with drama. However, her best girl friend is Pansy Parkinson. When the two were together, everyone knew to steer clear. The two were batshit crazy and was ready to cause havoc.

“Hey babes.” Pansy said, playing with Enzo’s hair.

Everyone sat around the tree as usual as you arrived with a cigarette hanging out of your mouth. You had a new display of bruises on your face, your knuckles bruised and battered. Mattheo eyed you with eyes that Tom teased him about being dreamy looking.

“Hey babe.” You say, taking a seat and leaning back.

“Nasty bruise there.” She teases.

“Granger doesn’t know when enough is enough.” You chuckle, pushing your hair out of your eyes.

I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life

I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind

They talk shit, but I love it every time

And I realize

I’ve tasted blood and it is sweet

I’ve had the rug pulled beneath my feet

I’ve trusted lies and trusted men

Broke down and put myself back together again

Stared in the mirror and punched it to shatters

Collected the pieces and picked out a dagger

I’ve pinched my skin in between my two fingers

And wished I could cut some parts off with some scissors

“Oi! Y/l/n!” Harry exclaims, striding towards you.

You take another puff out of your cigarette, looking up at him unamused as you blow out the puff of smoke in his general direction. He steps back, looking disgusted before focusing back on you. You smile lazily at him.

“What ever do you want, Potter?” You ask sarcastically.

“I want to know why you beat up Hermione.” He demands.

“Well she started it. I ended it.” You say.

“I want a real answer.” He snaps.

You had just walked into the bathroom, opening one of the windows to try and sneak in a quick smoke real quick. Hermione walks in and scoffs when she sees you. You look at her blankly.

“C’mon, give me a smile, Y/l/n.” She mocks, giving you a nasty onceover.

“I don’t owe you a goodman thing. Turn around and leave me alone.” You snap, taking another puff from your cigarette.

“I didn’t think you were a coward. Last I heard, you got into fights and won them. Scared to lose?” She asks.

“How about you shut your mouth before you see where running it gets you.” You suggest, putting out the cigarette and throwing it out the window.

“I told you, Potter. She started it. Maybe you should tell your little bitch to watch who she runs her mouth to next time. I gave her a warning. But, she kept pushing. She was quite determined she’d win the fight. Called me a coward. You should've seen the way she cowardly hid in the corner of the bathroom to get away.” You say, scoffing out a laugh at the memory.

“Come on, little lady, give us a smile.”

No, I ain’t got nothin’ to smile about

I got no one to smile for, I waited a while for

A moment to say I don’t owe you a goddamn thing

“God, you are pathetic. What? You can’t find happiness in your screwed up homelife and among your friends, that you have to hurt other people?” He asks.

“I don’t hurt people without reason. And you know nothing about me.” You spat.

He stared at you a moment, before turning and striding away. He didn’t want to push anymore than he had as he didn’t want to be your next victim.

You watch him with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. You resisted the urge to hex him or worse, curse him. You looked like a daydream to everyone, but really you were a nightmare.

No one truly knew where the change came. You were sweet and innocent once. They wished they could blame your friend group, but you were friends with them before. You came back from summer holidays your third year with a whole different personality. Little did they know, your parents were murdered by a rich wizard who got away with it.

Everything changed for the worst, or maybe the best for some.

Voldemort sought you out after hearing the news from his twin sons. He took you in and began to teach you his ways. You became a Deatheater just like your parents and all your friends. You have became the reason everyone was far more confident that they were going to win the war too. You were calculated, yet when needed you were merciless.

I, I keep the record of the wreckage of my life

I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind

They talk shit, but I love it every time

And I realize

I’m no sweet dream, but I’m a hell of a night

That I’m no sweet dream, but I am a hell of a night

“Y/n/n, I’m delighted you are here for the holidays.” Voldemort says, standing to greet you with a hug.

“Thank you for having me, my lord.” You murmur.

“Of course. Why don’t you go get settled in? Dinner will be done around six.” He says.

“Of course.” You murmur.

Mattheo and Tom waited in the doorway for you. You walked towards them, before pausing as the hairs on your neck stood up. You felt your stomach flip uncomfortably.

“Y/n/n?” Mattheo questions.

“Someone is here. Someone who shouldn’t be here.” You murmur, striding past them as you pull your wand free.

You followed your gut and headed to the basement. You heard Tom and Mattheo behind you as Bellatrix’s cackling from upstairs could be heard. You hear Hermione scream, but you keep going when you see a familiar brunette boy and ginger-head boy.

“Potter! Weasley! What the hell are you doing here?” You snap, pointing your wand at them.

Mattheo and Tom follow in suit, Mattheo distracted as he watched you with awe. Tom rolled his eyes at his brother who was obsessed with you.

“Y/l/n? You are a part of this too?” Harry asks in disbelief.

“Of course she is. She hangs with those snakes too. Not to mention she is a snake herself.” Ron spats.

“What is happening to Hermione?” Harry asks.

“What she deserves for breaking in. What you two will soon face as well. You get a first-hand experience of a snake bite. You get to see how venomous we truly are.” You say, smiling sweetly at the two.

No, I won’t smile, but I’ll show you my teeth

And I’ma let you speak if you just let me breathe

I’ve been polite, but won’t be caught dead

Lettin’ a man tell me what I should do in my bed

Keep my exes in check in my basement

‘Cause kindness is weakness, or worse, you’re complacent

I could play nice or I could be a bully

I’m tired and angry, but somebody should be

Harry eyes you warily, looking between you three. He knew the odds, but he also wasn’t one to go down without a fight. He reached for his wand , but it was to late as you hit him with Cruciatus Curse.

“What are you doing!?” Ron cries, dropping to his knees as he tried to get Harry’s attention.

“Protecting my family.” You spat.

“They are just using you.” Ron says, shaking his head.

“Imperio.” You say, watching him curiously.

“Mattheo, lets grab Potter.” Tom says.

“Ron, keep quiet. Give me your wand and Harry’s wand and follow me.” You say.

Ron hands both wands over as he follows you upstairs. Hermione was tied to a chair now, your eyes falling on the word carved into her arm. Tom and Mattheo struggle to lay an unconscious Harry on the ground.

“Is he dead?” Voldmort questions.

“No, my lord. He is unconscious. I used the Cruciatus Curse on him. I used the Imperius Curse on Ron. They were both in the basement.” You explain.

“Well done, child. The rest are on their way. They should be here any minute.” He says.

You nod, turning to help Tom and Mattheo with tying up Harry in a chair as you hear quiet chatter heading towards the dining room. You tell Ron to sit and you easily tie him up as your friends and their parents enter.

“We had our lovely trio break in, and what for…I don’t know just yet.” Voldemort announces, motioning everyone to take a seat.

You take a seat next to Mattheo, your hands shaky with nerves. He grabs your hand under the table, squeezing it out of comfort. You squeeze back, especially as scarlet red eyes focus on you.

“Question the boy.” He orders.

“Ron, why did you guys break in?” You ask, trying not to show your nerves.

“H-Horcruxes.” He stutters out, trying to fight your hold on him.

“Ron! Fight it! You're stronger than this!” Hermione cries.

“Zip it! Or we might have to repeat what happened a few minutes ago, mudblood.” Bellatrix spats, glaring at Hermione.

“Are you delusional? You three are always up to something, but walking into the snakes den? You truly are arrogant fools.” Tom spats, shaking his head.

“Mattheo, Tom, Y/n/n, you are dismissed. You’ve all proved your worthiness today. Why don’t you two assist Y/n/n with what she might need for the spell she has been working on?” Voldemort suggests.

The three of you stand, leaving the room before Hermione says your name. You stop in the doorway before turning to look back at her.

“Why? Why do this? Why are you on their side? What happened to you? We use to be friends. What changed? Why did you come back somebody else our third year?” She asks, tears in her eyes.

“That Y/n is dead, Granger. She isn’t coming back. She died the day my parents were murdered by a rich wizard. Yet, the Ministry of Magic defended him and let him walk free—a mudblood. He should be rotting in Azkaban.” You spat, your eyes narrowing on her.

This was the first time most of your friends knew of what happened to your parents. They assumed they died, but they didn’t ever pry.

“Come on, little lady, give us a smile”

No, I ain’t got nothin’ to smile about

I got no one to smile for, I waited a while for

A moment to say I don’t owe you a goddamn thing

I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life

I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind

They talk shit, but I love it every time

And I realize

I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life

I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind

They talk shit, but I love it every time

And I realize

“Matty, can I steal one of your jumpers?” You ask, walking into his room.

“Yeah, here.” He says, handing you the one he had been wearing earlier today.

“Thank you.” You say, smiling at him before pulling it on.

He has definitely imagined you in his clothes. He was beyond obsessed. He practically watched your every move when he was in your presence. He imagined a lot of things. He imagined what it would be like to hold you…to kiss you…to see you in his clothes…to see you without clothes. To say the least, he had a very imaginative imagination.

“Are you busy right now?” He asks.

“No. I just wrapped up the loose ends to that spell for your father. So, I should have a lot of free time on my hands now.” You say, sitting at the end of his bed.

“Let’s watch a film then.” He suggests.

“Not some horror flick though.” You plead.

“No, no, not a horror flick. Why don’t you pick?” He suggests.

You smile, shrugging as you nod. He pats the spot behind him and you crawl up the bed before plopping beside him. He scoots closer to you nonchalantly as he hands you the remote to his TV. You pick a romance movie, hoping he doesn’t make fun of you.

Half an hour passes, and Mattheo had gotten pretty invested in the movie. However, that was until you had moved so you were laying down beside him. Now, he found himself watching you when you got drawn in by the movie. He didn’t think it was this fair to look so good in his bed, but you looked like a Goddess in his eyes.

“Y/n/n.” He murmurs, leaning over you a bit, looking down at you.

Your eyes flicker to his, seeing how close he really was to you. Your lips part in surprise, his eyes flickering to them. You look at his lips, watching them move closer and closer. You close your eyes, his lips dancing with yours.

You move a hand to his, pushing his head closer to yours as he straddles you, deepening the kiss. You both never thought a kiss could be so perfect and magical.

“Y/n.” He whispers against your lips, his eyes still closed.

“Matty, I need you.” You whisper, looking up at him with flushed cheeks.

“Shit…are you sure about this baby?” He asks.

“More than sure.” You whisper.

“Draco, come.” Voldemort says.

You hold Mattheo’s hand tighter, praying Draco comes to you all. It was a relief as he walked over to the Deatheaters side. You’ve noticed he was a little torn between what side he wanted to be on.

“Y/n, now.” Voldemort says, turning to you.

Harry Potter was officially dead. You confirmed it. Now, it was time for the big unveiling of Voldemort’s human form, and not his form that represents where things had gone wrong. It was time for him to be the form of utmost perfection. You found yourself wondering if he’ll look like Tom. Tom does happen to resemble his father a lot from some pictures you’ve seen.

You take in a breath, squeezing Mattheo’s hand before letting it go. You step forward, closing your eyes as you let your arms go out. You hear startled and surprised gasps from everyone around as you begin to float up off the ground.

Mattheo watched just as everyone else was surprised as a green light emitted from you before becoming so bright and engulfing you. He looks back at you after the light explodes and he sees that you're dressed in a black cloak, but he sees the dark green bodice underneath it. Your eyes open and he stumbles back when he sees your eyes are green.

Someone like me can be a real nightmare, completely aware

But I’d rather be a real nightmare than die unaware, yeah

Someone like me can be a real nightmare, completely aware

But I’m glad to be a real nightmare, so save me your prayers

You lift a hand, muttering incoherently before a green tendril reaches out towards Voldemort. It wraps around him, covering him before it slowly washes away as you lower yourself to the ground. You watch, hoping to the gods above that you didn’t just embarrass him. He’d kill you and you knew that.

Your lips part in surprise as you see the man who stood there now. He stood about 6”3 tall, he was lanky yet muscular. His face was sculpted, electric blue eyes instead of scarlet red ones. He had dark brunette hair that was neatly styled and he wore a white button up shirt with black dress pants.

“Your dad is hot.” You mumble and Mattheo pinches you, pouting at you.

“Hey, your mine.” He grumbles.

“I was just noting the obvious.” You mumble.

Voldemort smirks, slowly looking around the crowd. He looks at you and winks before turning to address the other side. You look at Mattheo with wide eyes and parted lips.

“He’s so hot. I really expected he would look like how he had. Like our Tom, now. Not that you're not hot Tom, because you are, like, really hot. But, it seems like even though he hasn’t been his natural self in a long while…he still matured.” You mumble.

“Uhh…thanks I guess.” Tom mumbles.

“You are my bloody girlfriend. Please stop saying my dad is hot.” Mattheo grumbles.

“I’m trying! I’m sorry! I love you.” You say.

“Right.” He grumbles.

You hug him tightly and pout when he doesn’t hug you back. You stand on your tippy toes, your lips brushing against his ear.

“How about I show you how much I love you tonight? I’ve got this new pair of lingerie that I bought because I was thinking of you.” You whisper.

“Deal.” He rasps, kissing your neck before letting you go.

You turn to face Voldemort again. The other side has kneeled and are vowing their loyalty to him. He has them one by one approach him as he gives them the Deatheater mark. Your eyes find Althea, a first year who was looking at you with tears in her eyes. She runs to you, Voldemort watching with curiosity. Your own eyes well, not expecting her to be here.

“When did you get here? I thought I lost you.” You ask, kneeling in front of you as you grab her face in your hands.

“The Ministry of Magic had me at some secure location. They were going to use me as leverage against you when the time come. They had a prophecy that showed who you become. But, you all destroyed the Ministry of Magic. I escaped, “transferred” to Hogwarts in hopes that you’d be here. And you are.” She says, tears falling down her cheeks.

“Oh babes, I am so, so happy you're safe and here. I’ve looked for you, but I honestly thought…I thought they killed you. I couldn’t feel you.” You say, tears falling down your own cheeks.

“They used a spell so you couldn’t feel me. They wanted you to think I was dead…but I’m here. I’m here now.” She whispers, hugging you tightly.

You hug her back tightly, burying your face in her neck as you try to get a grip on your emotions. You lean back, gently wiping her tears away before wiping your own and you smile at her softly.

“Who is this?” Voldemort asks, stopping behind Althea.

You stand, putting an arm around your sister’s shoulder. You look at him and smile slightly.

“This is my sister, Althea. I thought she died…but I guess the Ministry of Magic has had her hidden all along. They had some prophecy about me so they were going to use her as leverage against me. But, because of what you’ve done for us and you’ve taken down the Ministry of Magic…she escaped. Thank you, my lord.” You say.

“Y/n/n…it’s time you called me father or dad. I’ve considered you a daughter for awhile…especially after all you’ve done for our family…and now you and Mattheo are in love…I simply think it’s time for you to stop calling me ‘my lord’ or ‘Voldemort’ and called me dad or something. Althea…I am Tom Marvolo Riddle.” He says, putting a hand out for her to shake.

She takes his hand, shaking it as Tom mumbles something about his name being the same as his fathers. Voldemort takes a knee in front of Althea and smiles at her.

“What should I call you?” She asks.

“Dad…call me dad.” He mumbles.

You smile slightly, realizing that he had a connection to your little sister. You knew he looked at her like a daughter as well. But, this was different. You knew these two were going to have a special bond. You look over at Tom and Mattheo to see them watching with small smiles.

I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life

I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind

They talk shit, but I love it ever time

And I realize

I, I keep a record of the wreckage of my life

I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind

They talk shit, but I love it every time

And I realize

I’m no sweet dream, but I’m a hell of a night

That I’m no sweet dream, but I’m a hell of a night.

#harry potter universe #hp fandom #masterlist #slytherin #slytherin x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheoxreader #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle fanfic #fluff #angst #oneshot #song fic #fanfic #Spotify

271 notes · View notes

wave2tyun · 3 months

Text

cherry wine | ☆

pairing: taehyun x reader

genre: college!au, chef!tyun, fluff, suggestive (it gets steamy towards the end?!)

prompts: - "i can feel how fast your heart is beating right now"

- "here- let me help you"

warnings: none<3

word count: 2.8k

a/n: special dedication to the anon who sent me an ask about this fic, hope you'll enjoy reading this again :D💓💞💘💖💓

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

there were many things that you were good that. cooking, however, was not one of them. when you first got one of your friends to come over and taste one of your dishes, they could barely hold back tears as they tried to chew the food and make it slide down their throat. knowing that you’re not a big fan of takeout, they could barely comprehend how you’ve managed to survive up until now.

the minute your uni opened up a cooking course held by the culinary arts students, your friend made sure that your name would be the first one to appear on that list- without telling you about it, of course. you had a big ego, and you most likely wouldn’t have accepted to sign up for the course yourself. therefore, so as not to risk anything, they only told you about the secret they’ve been keeping away from you one hour before the first class started.

‘stupid course’ you mumbled, putting on the apron that the chef’s assistant handed you. was it really necessary to wear it? you were thankful that at least there weren’t any other familiar faces in the room, otherwise you would have died of embarrassment. everybody else seemed to have, in one way or another, some sort of knowledge in the cooking field. meanwhile, you lacked the skills, and the blue apron you were dressed up in made you feel goofy. you glanced over at your watch: 11:02. if you were fast enough maybe there was still time for you to sneak out of there-

“good morning, everybody” a male voice was heard.

great. your one and only chance to escape slipped away from your hands. the course was officially starting, and there was no way you could back out now. you lifted your head, eyes searching for the source of the voice, and once your eyes landed on him- you couldn’t help but inhale sharply.

you were screwed.

the student that was assigned as the ‘head chef’ was cute- so much cuter than you thought. he was somehow the perfect combination of cute and hot: big shiny eyes that resembled two tapioca pearls, a soft smile that revealed his cat-like fangs, as well as broad shoulders and toned arms, which were exposed by his rolled up sleeves.

“i’m taehyun, a 3rd year culinary arts major” he introduced himself “i will be the one leading you throughout this course. thank you to everyone who has signed up, i hope you will find these lessons useful”

taehyun’s words were met with a round of applause from the other people in the room. he smiled brightly, clasping his hands together “without further ado- let’s get started. we’ll start of easy, with a basic soup recipe”

you glared at the vegetables in front of you. it seemed like your definition of easy didn’t exactly match his. making a sandwich was easy. cutting vegetables? absolutely not. you clumsily tried to follow along as taehyun demonstrated each step, paying close attention to not cut or stab your finger with the knife. these poor vegetables- your cutting board resembled a crime scene. you sighed, looking at the potatoes and carrots that you had yet to handle.

taehyun started roaming around the kitchen counters, making sure that everyone was carrying out the task well. you sensed him stopping right next to your place, and you resisted the urge to hide the mess you created with your hands. knowing that his eyes were on you, you were now feeling even more nervous than before. your hands were now starting to shake as you continued using the knife.

“can you give me your knife for a second?” taehyun asked, interrupting your actions.

“s-sure” you stuttered, handing him the sharp object. taehyun moved closer to you, grabbing one of the carrots from the basket.

“when you cut these- make sure you get rid of the ends first” he spoke as his hands followed the instructions “this makes it a bit easier to hold the rest of the carrot. then- hold the knife straight, and push it down, separating it into smaller pieces” you watched as taehyun chopped up the rest of the carrot flawlessly, in probably less than 10 second “give it another go” he offered you the knife back, making you gulp.

you breathed in deeply, trying to calm yourself down as you reached out for your own carrot. however, your attempt was in vain. no matter how many times you tried, the pieces you were cutting ended up looking uneven. you could feel your cheeks burning intensely. “i’m so sorry-“ turning to look at taehyun in pity, you were expecting him to start laughing in your face, but you were only met with another one of his sweet smiles.

“you’re holding the knife at an angle. here- let me help you” taehyun walked behind you, his hands hovering right above yours “is this okay?” he spoke softly, waiting for your confirmation to go on.

you nodded, and taehyun took hold of your hands guiding them as he explained again “like this” he whispered, pressing down the knife gently. he was just correcting your mistakes- just doing his job, but god, you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter.

“think you’ve got it now?” he chuckled.

you almost forgot to reply, too caught up in the moment “yeah- thank you”

“you’re welcome-“ taehyun sneaked a glance at your name tag “-y/n” the words rolled off his tongue softly.

taehyun removed his hands from you, going back to his place at the front to go on with the lesson. perhaps this course wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

the next time you had to attend the cooking course, you put in a little bit more effort in your appearance. for taehyun? maybe. only something subtle though. you did want it to be noticeable, just not too much. he wasn’t supposed to catch on to the fact that he was the cause of this.

the thought of doing mistakes didn’t seem as taunting anymore- not if it meant that taehyun would be the one helping you out again.

no matter how many times you were struggling, taehyun came over to you with a smile, fondness taking over his eyes as you furrowed your brows, paying close attention to his words.

one day, he called your name out at the end of the lesson- asking you to remain for a bit. you waited next to him as the class emptied, and taehyun shily pulled his phone out once it was just the two of you there “if you ever have questions or need help with anything- you can always text me”

and so you did. you used any excuse to talk to him, asking small questions like “how should i prepare this?” “what can i add to this?” “does this look right?” and taehyun seemed to reply with enthusiasm every time. you looked forward to seeing him every saturday at the course. any kind of stress created by college disappeared the moment you were in his warm presence, and felt his soft touch. you couldn’t help but sulk a little bit whenever he helped out other students, even though that was simply what he was supposed to do. maybe you just wanted to have all of his focus on you.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

walking out after your last course of the day, you received a new message:

taehyun :)

[6:34 pm] are you free tonight? there’s something i want you to try

you typed in a quick reply, an almost immediate raise in heartbeat taking place at the thought of seeing him that evening.

you got back to your dorm as fast as possible to drop off your bag, as well as to get changed into something a tad bit more special than just some jeans and a hoodie.

once you reached taehyun’s door, you took a moment to rearrange the flyaway hairs and to make sure that your outfit looked in good condition. ringing up the doorbell, taehyun didn’t take long before opening the door, the smell of freshly-sprayed on cologne enveloping your senses, a breathless ‘hi’ escaping past both your lips at the exact same time.

the only source of light in taehyun’s apartment was the small candles sitting on the elegantly decorated dining table. it seemed like he had everything prepared, except for one single thing: the dish itself. all the ingredients were neatly prepared on the counter, as if waiting for your arrival. those were, indeed, taehyun’s intentions. he did have a special dish in mind that he wanted you to try, but the though of having you in his presence while preparing it just seemed to make his heart flutter a bit longer.

even though you were definitely not as skilled as taehyun when it came to cooking, you still offered to help him in any way you could, not wishing to simply sit around waiting to be served. for your first task, you were chopping some tomatoes for the pasta sauce. taehyun came up behind you, putting his hands on top of yours like he did during your first course with him.

“don’t worry- i know how to do this now” you said.

“really?” taehyun quirked an eyebrow, the tone of his voice both amusing yet also incredulous.

you hummed, proud of your small progress. taehyun didn’t separate himself from you “maybe i just want to stay close to you” he admitted, voice low as if he didn’t know whether it was right to confess his thoughts out loud.

“i wouldn’t mind that” you spoke quietly, letting out a confession of your own as well.

you could hear taehyun softly exhale in relief at your response. his warm chest came into contact with your back, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. it was intimate- way too intimate for those feelings of love to be clouding your heart only. his warm breath on your neck was starting to make you feel almost light-headed, to make you lose focus, and in a moment where your attention had completely dissipated into thin air, you almost let the knife cut your finger.

“are you okay? did you get hurt?” taehyun asked in worry. he brought your finger to his face upon closer inspection “it’s all good, don’t worry” you replied hurriedly, embarrassed by your lack of concentration at the task at hand “i just got lost in thought that’s all” you babbled on further. taehyun nodded as he started guiding you, holding your hand and the knife with slightly tighter grip than before to ensure that there wouldn’t be any more slip-ups “do it this way” he said.

“like this?” you repeated, trying it out yourself. you turned your head slightly to face him. there was a soft pink dusting taehyun’s cheeks.

“yeah, just like this” he answered back in a daze. you didn’t fail to notice the way his eyes sneaked a glance at your lips. the thought too tempting and inviting- especially when he was holding you so close. but he had to wait- he couldn’t give in yet. the tension and lingering touches were consuming you whole as you continued to prepare the dish together.

the wine taehyun placed down the table seemed to be the perfect solution to loosen things up, to get rid of all the worries of your unspoken feelings.

“i bought this especially for tonight- it goes well with the dish” taehyun looked down as he smiled shily “i hope you’ll like it” he said as he poured each of you a glass of the sweet cherry wine.

“swirl it around first- then let the liquid touch your lips for a bit to get a small taste” he explained. taehyun already had an interest in alcohol, and the culinary arts programme had only expanded his knowledge in the field further. although it was necessary for him to learn- you found it attractive how he paid attention to even the smallest details.

the wine was more of a sweet kind than dry, intense- yet not overwhelming, and just as intoxicating as him. the pasta didn’t let down your expectations either. you had never tasted pasta with a sauce so creamy and full of flavour before, you couldn’t believe that you had assisted in the preparation and didn’t somehow ruin it.

“this tasted so good” you complimented him hurriedly between bites. taehyun couldn’t control his face at the sound of your words- a cocky grin taking over which he tried to hide subtly by having another sip of wine.

“only the best for you” he replied brazenly, reaching out his glass towards you. meeting him half-way, you clinked your glasses together, giggling at his words.

the wine glasses were filled right after another without a moment of waiting as you got through your dinner. and before you knew it, the expensive bottle was already sitting on the floor underneath the table, not a singular drop remaining in it. to you, taehyun’s eyes seemed to sparkle a bit more now, his smile at least ten times more endearing. and to taehyun? he could barely hold himself back from confessing out of the blue just so that he could finally give your lips a kiss

you clumsily gathered the dishes, bringing them over to the sink. you both agreed that washing them should be a problem for later, since you were quite (very) tipsy and didn’t want to risk flooding the apartment.

turning around after you placed the last plate in the sink, you were taken aback to see taehyun so close to you. he put his hands on the counter behind you, trapping you between it and his own body. his eyes were firmly placed on yours and you noticed how the blush on his cheeks had never disappeared. was it because of you? or just the alcohol?

his head fell on your shoulder, his hands were now on the small of your back as he tried to keep his balance.

“tae- is everything okay?” you asked worriedly. you didn’t know what his alcohol tolerance was, and you didn’t want him passing out on the floor in front of you.

taehyun hummed, burying his face in the crook of your neck. his soft black hair tickled your skin, and you wished you could run your hands through it “can we just stay like this for a bit?” he mumbled.

you opened your mouth to speak, but taehyun interrupted you before you could do so “i can feel how fast your heart is beating right now” he lightly chuckled.

“you’re probably the cause of that...” you replied, the alcohol giving you the slight push to admit it. “is that so?” taehyun lifted his head up slightly, peering into your eyes “every time i get close to you- my heart beats just the same”

your face burned instantly, locking eyes with him for just one moment, before you noticed the way his travelled down to your lips once again. taehyun licked his lips before resting his forehead against yours. his warm breath tickled your lips, and your body trembled in anticipation for him to close the gap. pulling him in by softly grabbing the collar of his shirt, your lips captured taehyun’s in a tender kiss.

taehyun melted into your touch, letting out a small gasp once he promptly parted away from you, only to come back to taste you with even more passion than before. warmth consumed you, breathing heavily as your lips pressed together in a frenzy “your lips taste so sweet” taehyun breathed out “even sweeter than the cherry wine”. taehyun clumsily moved any leftover ingredients out of the way before lifting you up on the counter, his hands trailing underneath your shirt, touching your bare back as he continued to kiss you, the desire flowing through your veins was making it unable for you to stop. it made a chill run down your spine, and you parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside. your fingers got lost through the strands of his hair, pulling at them slightly and emitting a deep hum from him; hot, passionate kisses sending a rush through your whole body as you tasted him. his lips were so soft- so warm, and so incredibly addictive.

in need of oxygen, you parted away for him for a moment, his glistening lips trailing back almost immediately.

“please- will you let me have another taste?”

#wave2tyun #txt #txt fluff #txt x reader #txt fic #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt smau #txt headcanons #txt taehyun #taehyun fluff #taehyun scenarios #taehyun fic #taehyun x reader #taehyun imagines #taehyun headcanons

391 notes · View notes

verysium · 5 months

Text

『01』到着: arrival

ft. rin itoshi, sae itoshi

summary: the forces of nature abide by a single law: all cataclysms are creators of their own collapse. in the wake of such destruction, rin tumbles his way down to earth, and along the staircase of heaven, a new star is born. cw: mild swearing, childhood nostalgia and growing pains, rin being embarrassing, social anxiety, sae being somewhat parental, sibling dynamics, kamakura and japanese culture, spanish lessons, very dense prose (cus i suck ass at dialogue), star analogies, orange peels and other fruit metaphors, fluff but bittersweet.

word count: 6.4k

series masterlist || next

The first word Rin learns is star.

It is spoon-fed to him in glittering globules of milk fat, dense and pooling around the gums. Stars are what he senses when rough hands slip around his torso, stuffing the nib of a plastic bottle into his mouth. He is only a week old and can't see yet, but he already knows the set of eyes he is staring into. There are tiny pinpoints of blue-green light, reflective and shiny, a mirror to his own.

The world is blurry but somehow Rin finds his own image. His newborn legs are scrunched inside a wad of cotton blankets, poised and ready to strike. Rin doesn't like being confined, but the four walls of the hospital room offer him no reprieve. He cries and bawls and screams to go back. Only the silence answers.

Rin hates this place. The world out here is a different state of mind: too bright, too loud, too much. Anything and everything has been etched into a single frame, time scorched into untouched skin. It is to the point his senses cannot handle any more.

Every morning the shadows of nurses gorge themselves on daylight, waistlines growing by the minute as they enlarge into his field of vision. They pry at the wires of his crib, brushing off invisible dust as they try so hard to make his heartbeat sync with their incessantly beating machines. His body refuses to obey. They should've known the moment he was born that he'd always be one step behind.

Rin wants to screech his head off again. This time he babbles that the milk tastes like car grease, that he'd rather die free than live in pain, but a firm hand stays the bottle between his lips, insisting on its delicacy. Rin blanches. He isn't hungry. He tries to pull away. But his mother's voice cuts through the silence, a warning.

"Sae-chan, be careful with your brother."

The two-year-old grunts, lips twisted in annoyance as he tries the balancing act of feeding a newborn with one arm. His gaze is ancient, too piercing for a child. Rin's fingers crawl up Sae's face, clumsy and blind as they grope for his nose bridge. There are stars in his older brother's eyes, ones Rin cannot reach no matter how hard he tries.

Rin ends up spilling milk on himself, crying as he drools white rivulets down his chin. If Sae could swear, he most definitely would’ve called Rin an ungrateful little shit. But Rin knows it is an honor to be born where he was. He is a legacy to someone else’s dream, both a spare and a second chance at living. He butters himself up in their nasal tongues, machinating his lips in tandem.

When his brother offers him another drink, his mouth is already open.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It turns out life outside the womb is actually far greater than it was inside. Rin learns that real people walk and talk and grow up to find something called a purpose. He doesn't understand why the adults deem it complicated though. How could something so simple take years to discover? After all, his brother has already figured out his purpose, so why couldn't he?

"Rin-chan, you must find something to do with your life," his grandmother mentions over dinner, smoothing her weathered hands down the locks of his hair. The family is gathered around the table for tea, sitting like a portrait on the zabuton. Rin tries his best to emulate, his three-year-old spine drawn taut with practiced humility.

"Your brother has already paved the way. You can do the same, can’t you Rin-chan?"

Of course he can. Rin's heard these words a thousand times before. Sae isn't called the family's star collector for nothing. His nii-chan has already amassed tens of thousands of these five-pointed shapes, a few of which sit in a glass trophy case Rin isn't allowed to touch. He’s seen this all play out before.

A fortune teller once read their futures, thumbing her way along his brother’s palms as she spilled the very same oracles. Rin still remembers that day clearly: a morning visit to the shrine, the image scattered like water. The torii unfolded like a vermillion tongue, moseying its way down Komachi Street. He had been dressed in his little navy blue hakama, toes tucked politely into his tabi, his round eyes reflecting the world like a fisheye lens. There was much to observe from the hustle and bustle of life. Peculiar squiggly lines danced along the signage of shops. Candied lacquerware displayed themselves behind glass windows. Rin even stopped to point out the goldfish hanging in their crystal bags, giggling when the force of nearby windchimes sent each fish for a tumble. One soba stop and two taiyaki ice creams later, his small feet had grown tired from the hours of excursion, and his mother carried him on her back for the latter half of the trip home.

It was then that he spotted her.

An old lady sat in a booth by the wayside, framed by colorful curtains. His father had told him that she could foresee the future with the mere touch of her hand. Sae had gone first, holding out his palm with assured poise, as if he already knew the outcome. Rin wasn’t surprised when he heard the verdict. The old lady claimed Sae was destined to become the world’s greatest star, to bring glory to the nation of the sun. Rin didn’t doubt it if this was true at the time. His brother’s existence was proof enough. Sae’s certainty was a lesson Rin learned before object permanence, before any preconventional stage of development. Nii-chan is always one way and not the other. He is on track to do something important, and nothing can sway him from it.

That was the first truth Rin learned of this world.

Even now at the family dinner, he doesn't even need to look to know that his brother is sitting with near perfect posture, the precision of still life running through his veins. Sae is an adult before he is a child, a handcrafted figurehead for the Itoshi name. Rin lifts his chin a little higher, his toddler hands raised in firm conviction.

“I’ll follow Nii-chan! Follow him to the end of the world!”

His grandmother nods, seemingly satisfied with the answer. Rin doesn't say anything else, quiet for the rest of the night. He doesn't understand the words she exchanges with his parents, nor does he try to. Adult talk still isn't his strong suit, especially not when it concerns the future. But his mother's eyes shine wet and proud, and his father chuckles more than usual. Rin decides his purpose right then and there.

He wants to be a star too.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The day after starting kindergarten, Rin shows off his first masterpiece, cradling two sheets of rice paper as he runs up to the front door. By the time the fusuma slides open, he has already uncrumpled his work, dramatically revealing a bold shock of color. It appeared to be some sort of assemblage, painstakingly inked in blue crayon and pieced together with painter's tape.

"That's a pentagon, Rin."

"No, it’s a star! See? 1…2…3…4…5 points! Star!"

Sae isn't amused. Rin does not know why. His brother’s eyes are hardened slats of light, the still water of an abandoned lake. There are no mouths to swallow the light, no twinkling ripples at the surface, not even the gasps of glimmering excitement. There is only the mirrored slate of the sky: one shade of blue bleeding into the next. Rin feels his stomach plummet into its depths. This isn’t the soft look of pride he wanted to see. Not in the slightest.

At first he thinks about crying, his bottom lip already curled with the onslaught of a pathetic sob. But spite unfurls in his lungs, so instead he turns his nose up with huff, trying to seem unaffected. He would be very proud of his star. And it most certainly was not called a pentagon or whatever stupid name Sae learned in his stupid math class. But apparently his older brother always had something else to say.

"Just come here and erase it. I'll show you how to make a proper star."

"But I don't want to! It's my star. It's perfect!"

Rin can hardly utter another word before Sae's glare nearly freezes the living daylights out of him. Nii-chan is scary, especially when angry. He doesn't even have a choice when he sits down at the chabudai, pouting in reluctance. Sae works out his magic on paper, crafting ley lines within the grain of paper. Rin does his best to follow, licking his lips as he guides his crayon through the dotted lines. It gets increasingly difficult though when Sae's hand echoes warmly around his own, gentle but firm in its direction. Rin tries to avoid his brother's eyes, but Sae's kindness is as disarming as his gaze. Had Nii-chan always had that crease between his eyebrows? The slight upturn of his lips when he bit his tongue in concentration?

Rin tries to trace the lines, but he ends up tracing Sae's face instead. His focus isn't even on the paper when he scribbles out a mess of incomplete pentagons, some geometric concatenation he cannot translate into real-time. Sae would have pinched his cheek, scolding him in disappointment.

Sae never did.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The next time Rin traces a pentagon, it is on the surface of a black-and-white ball, shot like a meteorite through a football goal. His brother becomes a comet, light on his feet as he thunders down the field, weaving seamlessly between defenders. Rin can only stand on the sidelines, drowned out in his second-hand hoodie, face smushed up against the fence as he tries to get a good view. The team's been at it for hours, and Rin's pretty sure he now has the diamond imprint of chain links burnt into his cheeks.

"Somebody stop him!"

"Get after him!"

"Mark Sae Itoshi!"

There will always be someone up to the challenge of his brother's prowess, but no one ever comes close to toppling him. Rin doesn't think Sae would ever miss a single step, not when he's so far ahead. His brother is strong and calculated, absolutely unwavering in his ascent to the top. The only way Sae Itoshi could ever fall is if he buckled under his own weight, caving into himself.

Rin's eyes follow the reporters as they trail after Sae, and his nose wrinkles in disgust. They were no better than a pack of bloodhounds, desperate for a small taste of his brother's victory. How dare they? His Nii-chan outshined everyone at everything. Rin wasn't the smartest boy, but even he knew that a star could never be caught. They didn't even belong on Earth in the first place.

"Let's go, Rin."

Rin doesn't complain when his brother calls him to return home, oblivious to the media's chagrin. Like Sae, Rin is utterly indifferent to their plight, side-stepping one of the reporters who dry-heaves on his shoes in exhaustion. It was definitely their fault for failing to outrun both an eight-year-old child and his kid brother, let alone try to feast on their glittering remains. If they couldn't catch a star, they ought to eat the dust left behind. After all, that was how the world worked according to Nii-chan.

Only the best could succeed. All the rest would implode with the universe.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It is the summer before his tenth birthday when Rin takes back every single one of those words. He is that reporter now, completely humiliated and exhausted as he collapses on the sidelines. The afternoon workout had just entirely rearranged his guts, so much so that he's foaming at the mouth, the remnants of his hasty breakfast speckled all over his cleats.

Out of every star in existence, the sun has to be the worst one. A pool of sweat trickles down his back, melting into a sticky discomfort along his nape. It’s too far up his jersey for him to do anything about, and he might just die from the sweltering heat.

Perhaps it was true that sports stars had to suffer in order to burn bright, but Rin would never wish this fate upon anybody. Sae is shouting at him from somewhere outside his periphery, insisting that the sun has never stopped revolving, that Rin has to never stop practicing if he ever plans on keeping up. But at this point, he could care less about a goddamn metaphor, let alone rub two brain cells together to interpret it.

"That shot was shoddy, Rin. Redo it."

"But it's so hot, I can't—”

"It's not hot. It's lukewarm. Redo it."

Sometimes Rin regrets ever thrusting himself into the orbit of his brother’s football dream. Playing on the world stage sounded so much easier in his head back then, but now it might as well have been an impossible fantasy. He most definitely wasn’t cut out for this line of work because his legs feel like shit, his arms feel like shit, and his whole body can’t even breathe under the thick, grimy layer of sweat. Blinking his eyes against the burning salt, Rin curses to himself. He should’ve taken that energy drink from earlier. At least the caffeine would have kept him sane. Sae snaps Rin out of his reverie, his thin voice seeping into Rin’s bones. There’s something softer in his tone this time.

“Suck it up and redo it. I’ll buy you ice cream after practice.”

There is silence. Rin stands back up, wiping his forehead as he stares his brother dead in the eye. The field has never been larger, and the goal has never been closer. And just like that, he is off, powering down the turf.

Under the supermassive gravity of his brother's ambitions, Rin becomes a supernova, his body charged with enough energy to last through entire lifetimes.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

In the oppressive sunlight, Sae's cold stare becomes a welcome sight. Augusts in Kamakura are the products of heat waves, the sun so scorching Rin can see a visible mirage above the asphalt. The heat spares no one, and Rin feels his cargo pants stick to the crease of his thighs. Even Sae’s bangs are plastered to his forehead, unusually slick behind the ears. They had just met Sae’s agent that morning, taking the Yokosuka line back from Tokyo. Sae had even left early, planning to evade the weekend’s tourists. But neither of them ever anticipated the harshness of the afternoon heat. After nearly an hour of searching, their only refuge was this 7-Eleven, some tiny microcosm practically stowed away between two utility poles.

The oba-chan at the konbini greets them with a seasoned smile, chirping with polite bubbliness as she rings up Sae’s Garigari-kun popsicles, a total of 70 yen for the original soda flavor. Rin waits demurely in a corner, eyes drawn to his brother’s silhouette. Some oji-san sits himself down nearby, fanning himself with a newspaper as he twirls a toothpick between his gums.

“Trying to avoid the heat, eh? You and your brother come here often?”

The man looks middle-aged, crowned with an artificial toupée and a cracked tooth. His eyes dart between Rin and Sae, a knowing smile plastered on his lips.

“Nii-chan and I just found this place. We don’t come here a lot.”

“Ah. Is that so? You seem awfully young to be shopping without parents. What’s your name?”

Rin doesn’t want to answer. He hates this man already, even more so his strangeness. There’s a disarming nature to his beady eyes, like he knows something Rin doesn’t. Rin looks down at the floor, his sneakers toeing a shy line across the linoleum tiles.

“R-rin.”

“Rin-kun, eh? You must look up to your Nii-chan a lot, huh? Your gaze hasn’t left him since.”

Rin feels his throat close up, cheeks flushing with heat of embarrassment. On second thought, he hates everything about this oji-san now, even down to his obnoxious friendliness. The old man winks, bending down in a conspiratorial whisper. Rin wrinkles his nose at the stale smell of beer, feeling embarrassed for even bothering to converse. This man was clearly drunk out of his mind, and Rin secretly hopes no one else is watching him. But unfortunately, the whispers are loud enough to travel across the entire convenience store, right into Sae’s ears.

“Oh-ho? Are you blushing?”

Rin vehemently shakes his head.

“Don’t worry, Rin-kun. Your secret is safe for me. You must be your brother’s little shadow, right?” The man pumps his fist out, his voice distorted in a childish imitation. “Nii-chan's number one supporter!”

Rin’s hands ball into fists at the oji-san’s teasing, his ears red to their tips. Sae is looking at him from over the cash register now, a confused look etched onto his face. Rin clenches his teeth in annoyance. Stripped bare of all defenses, he is now analyzed for what he is. Was his admiration that obvious? Did Sae know about his feelings? He didn’t want to be taken for some stupid, awestruck fool. The old man’s question is barely answered before Rin makes a break for it, the bell on the door ringing with his sudden departure.

The road outside swirls in holographic patterns, a dizzying blend of feet and socks and concrete. Rin has to take a moment to steady himself before Sae comes up behind him, armed with a plastic bag of wrappers and blue ice between his teeth. Rin licks his popsicle with caution, burning away his shame as his tongue freeze dries itself to the candied surface. Sae crunches his ice cream in two bites, an amused lilt to his voice.

“What was that back there?”

“N-nothing! I didn’t know him.”

“You’re too shy to talk to strangers?”

“N-no…H-he was just talking to himself.”

Sae gives Rin a weird look, but he doesn’t question further. Instead, his hand reaches down to slap Rin on the back of the head, ruffling the hair there until it somehow resembles a bird’s nest.

“Next time someone asks you something, just answer. Stop acting like a damn coward.”

Rin’s entire face burns with humiliation at that comment. He wishes the ground could just open up and swallow him whole. The last thing he wants to be is the laughingstock of his brother’s dry humor, but the fact that Sae rarely even cracks a joke makes this entire situation much worse. Instead of replying, Rin follows what he does best and rapidly changes the subject. His voice trembles as he stares at his popsicle handle, noting the hiragana carved into plywood. Atari.

“Ah, look. I won a prize.”

Sae’s eyes widen momentarily, pausing in his step as he looks down to check his own stick. Less than a minute later, he grimaces, tossing it away.

“Tch, don’t waste your luck on something so meaningless.”

Rin knows what Sae means. Only becoming the best matters, and with the sparse amount of luck to go around, he might as well spend it on a real victory. The Itoshis can’t afford loss, not that they’d ever know what it was. A foreign emotion flickers through Sae’s eyes, something akin to uncertainty. Rin brushes it off as a trick of the light.

The trek back home is tinged with a golden hue, the sun milder as it cascades rays down both their faces. Sae's appearance has always been unsettling, even in the mellow glow of summer. Rin recalls his mother used to say that Sae inherited all the sharpness in the family. His mother was definitely right. Sae’s nose is too straight, the slant of his brows too unnatural. If Rin took a ruler to his face, every measurement would come back scientifically accurate. Nothing about Sae is soft. Nothing about him should be comforting. But when his brother looks at him, Rin feels someone’s breath brush across his forehead, the skin still warm from the imprint of their lips.

He grips Sae’s hand tighter, knuckles looped between calloused digits. They tread silently, all thoughts of victory forgotten, the coastal breeze whispering their names into air. Rin can’t take his eyes off his brother, and, despite his lack of situational awareness, Sae notices it too.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing… It’s just… Back at the store… If it were you, you’d never be afraid to speak up, right?”

“Of course. There’s nothing that I fear.”

Sae’s tone is stiff when he says this, his face tilted towards the horizon. Rin almost misses the slight waver in his voice. His brother does everything to keep his word. At least that much holds true. Rin silently wishes that too would never change.

Sae always looks forward, always stares towards the skyline, always plans for the future. Not once has Rin seen his older brother look fully back at him, let alone pivot toward the direction he once came from. One side of Sae’s face is always hidden, not too dissimilar to the far side of the moon. His Nii-chan might as well be some celestial body, cast under the penumbra of his own eclipse. No one could ever know him in his entirety.

Sae’s eyes must be lonely, Rin ponders. They’re trapped on opposite ends of his face, two stars that could align but never cross. He swears to always remember the constellations in his brother’s eyes.

He'd follow them wherever they took him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Sae has his eyes set on Spain: a land of gold, guts, and glory. The streets are somehow more burnt than its people, and the nation itself flickers with twisting tongues. It is also the only place where Rin cannot follow, and he is inconsolable.

Sae hadn’t even given a week’s notice before he broke the news on a Sunday, stating his plans factually over a family dinner. Rin nearly spit out his ochazuke right then and there, choking pitifully on his tea-steeped rice grains. Who in their right mind would willingly travel to a country that sees the sun for nearly three thousand hours a year? Perhaps Sae was immune to all natural phenomena, but Rin would rather die than train in that hellish heat. And most importantly, what was with the sudden announcement? Did his brother not even care about the people he was leaving behind?

He thought about it hard during dinner and even harder when Sae blow-dried his hair that night. They had both stepped out from the tub at the same time, arguing after their shared bath. Rin complained his brother turned the water temperature up too high every time, and Sae pointed out he was dripping water everywhere, the suds still stuck deep in his scalp. Their fingers had been at each other’s hair, clawing and tugging until their mother finally intervened, wrapping Rin up in the family towel as she knelt down to dry him. Rin stood there, an angry flush on his cheeks and his features pulled into a petulant sulk as he observed Sae clean himself with elegant precision, a quiet look on his face. Life at ten and a half was simply unfair. Rin couldn’t wait until he was his brother’s age. Apparently being a teenager meant Nii-chan could have his own towel, a custom gift embroidered with seagulls on the hem. Nii-chan could dry himself without any help from others, no longer needing his mother’s guidance. He could even leave the house if he truly wanted, and no one would come after him. Rin’s scowl deepens, glowering at Sae as his mother forces his little arms up, tugging the pyjamas over his head. In another life, he would’ve admitted that he was envious of Sae’s independence, the sheer effortless grace with which he carried himself. But Rin was too prideful to do that. A confession of his own failures was equivalent to suicide in his book.

The best he can do is bite his tongue, forcing back the angry vitriol that would have otherwise spilled from his lips. His brother stands on a stool behind him, blow-dryer in hand as he ruffles through Rin’s tresses, the nozzle spewing warm air across his forehead. Sae’s fingers are rough and heavy, riddled with calluses underneath, likely from the months of weightlifting and grip training. But as solid as they are, they are also nimble, delicate as bird wings as they gently comb through strands of hair. The hot air massages around his temples, and Rin feels the tender brush of something against his nape. He cannot tell if it was the blow-dryer or the warmth of Sae’s body behind him.

In the end, he decides he does not want to know.

By now, the water droplets have cleared from his skin, his locks rusted from a dark olive to a coarse black. Sae turns the blow-dryer to his own head, tousling his hair as he shakes out the excess moisture. Rin watches silently through the mirror, squeezing a fine line of mint paste down the center of his toothbrush. He chews on the plastic bristles as he contemplates, moving his arm back and forth in a repetitive scrubbing motion. Sae had inherited their mother’s hair and their father’s countenance, his visage a perfect combination of both genetic features. His obaa-san once remarked that the kami had accidentally spilled wine on Sae’s birthday, anointing his head in a rich maroon. In Japan, red is the color of all things joyous, a shade Rin identifies with the uchikake at weddings and the rope decorations his parents pin onto doors for good luck. But to be associated with joy, Rin finds that fact highly ironic. He has never seen Sae express any semblance of happiness before, except maybe the occasional grimace he tries to pass off as a smile.

Still, the connotation of their contrasting hair colors does little to ease the ache in his tiny chest. If Sae is the blood of an early sunrise, then Rin is the death before night. Black is not a marriage but a funeral, the makings of an era filled with fear, violence, and misfortune. In a way, Rin is the end to Sae’s beginning, both the antithesis and the complement.

A soft touch against his chin interrupts his thoughts, and Rin looks up just in time to see Sae retracting his hand, wiping the excess toothpaste off Rin’s chin. And in that moment, he wants to scream. How dare Sae try to leave him? To act like everything was alright. He said the end was another beginning when really it was just the end. There wasn’t any coming back from it. Sae would disappear off to Spain, and he would never come back. At least the version of Sae he was seeing now.

In the dim lights, Rin’s hair is darker than ever, the inky tendrils plastered around his ears like a vacuum devoid of light. He brings a death omen, a curse wherever he goes. In between the liminal space of bathroom mirror and tile, he divorces memory from mind, separating the flesh until it can last no longer. He’ll kill this memory of his brother if he has to, suffocating it in the most gruesome of ways. He doesn’t want to admit this might be the last time he’ll ever see Sae.

And most importantly, he doesn’t want to admit that he just might miss him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Rin resolved to give Sae the silent treatment after that night, avoiding him throughout the house and acting like he was repelled by some nameless force. But his plans sadly never seem to work. The more he turns away, the more he is reeled back in, as if cast on some invisible fishing line. Now he’s here in Sae's bedroom, forty-eight hours before D-day, trying to mouth out words that aren't his own.

His brother has somehow convinced him to adopt a new language, something about how he needs to be bilingual to play in different countries. Rin didn’t understand most of it before he complied, letting himself be dragged onto his brother’s bedspread. His English flashcards sit opposite to Sae’s Spanish ones as he crosses his legs, mouthing the shapes on his brother’s lips.

Manzana. Banana. Naranja.

Translation: I am undoing everything that has ever made me whole.

In the middle of their lesson, Sae hands his brother said fruit, as if to accentuate his point. He peels the orange in a perfect spiral, thumb under the calyx as the spongy white fiber separates from ochre flesh, the pulp inlaid like jewels beneath skin. He cracks the segments hexagonally and tosses Rin the larger half.

“Naranja.”

“Naranja.” Rin repeats, curling his tongue around the foreign vowels. He catches the fruit with ease, shoving the flesh into his mouth until juice pools between teeth and his mouth is bursting with flavor. The language trickles down his throat, settling into the hollow of his larynx.

Naranja.

He looks down at his own orange, a half-imitation at best. His fingers are still stuck inside the skin, the liquid squirting into his right eye. It is sour, acrid even. The flesh has gone bad, wrinkled like soft cherries. A tangerine blooms saffron yellow beneath his nails, zest building up under the cuticle. He makes a mental note to wash his hands later.

Mi media naranja.

Unlearning, Rin decides, is a very difficult process. It makes him feel like a child again, an estrangement from his old self. Sometimes two halves aren’t enough to make him whole, and other times it is a section too much. There are many things in this world that elude his grasp. One day perhaps he will know them all. In another life, he would have been able to tell the difference between an apple and an orange, to draw the line between his half and Sae’s half. But for now, he is still discovering, still plucking and choosing, still floundering in a body he has come to hate. Rin picks up another flashcard, right next to the yellow one labeled starfruit, named estrella for each of its five points.

“What’s this one?”

“Desastre. Spanish for disaster.”

"Dis…as…star?"

"It's disaster. You have to enunciate the r."

"Dis…as…ster? What the hell even is that? Another star?"

Sae deadpans, and Rin mentally braces himself for another harsh remark, probably a brutally honest insult about his own stupidity. But this conversation has long evolved past fruits and colors and my half and your half. His brother’s eyes soften with shadows, as if bruised by something far deeper. A contusion forms beneath the surface, purpled and pained. Rin’s mind fills with confusion when Sae suddenly stares out the curtains again, his gaze strangely wistful. The room is so quiet he almost misses Sae’s answer.

"Yeah...it's a star.”

Disaster is a bad star.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The day before Sae leaves, Rin wishes on a bad star. He wakes up at an unlucky hour of dawn, slinking past a sleeping town as he goes to find his brother on the embankment near the sea. The streets bend around this corner of the peninsula, gaping like a mouth, lips pried apart at the seams. Located between a rock and a hard place, the coast of Koshigoe Beach oscillates between two types of constant turmoil, battling the erosion of natural forces from the east while facing the gentrification of construction in the west. During early mornings, the tide is sometimes low enough to expose the rocks up to the seawall, the desiccated seaweed forming fishing nets along its edge. Occasionally, the imprints of a stranger's footsteps leave behind small pockets of water, each one a home to an assorted array of abalone and oyster shells. Rin remembers the family vacations he spent here, the storm-cloaked skies. He had been so excited to go clamming after watching every episode of Chibi Maruko-Chan. In his red bucket hat and plastic shovel, he raced to the water’s edge, his little cheeks puffed out in exertion. He had anticipated sunny weather and clear skies, the glitter of rainbow sea glass, maybe even the golden sands he had seen in many of Sae’s travel brochures. But his first impression had been one of utter disappointment.

The sand was a dull, drab grey: a single expanse of color that stretched on forever across the horizon. There were no clouds, only the stinging brittle of salt stuck inside his lungs and nestled between his toes. And to make matters worse, there weren’t even any clams in the first place, no sparkling bits of the golden treasure he had been so desperate to bring home. He felt his spirits dampen with ocean spray, his little feet coming to a sudden halt as he stared crestfallen at the waters.

Rin learned two major lessons that day. One, Maruko-chan was a big fat liar. And two, he should never believe anything that he sees on screen. Unfortunately, his folly cost him a hefty price: one tantrum on the car ride home and zero pretty seashells to add to his collection. Looking back on it now, Rin feels a strange sense of comfort in his disillusionment. In all four directions, his home is still the same greyish wash of color, unchanging as the sea and as unforgiving as its waters. At least that is something he can rely on. Nowadays, the constants in his life can be counted on a single hand, and the number of childhood remnants dwindles down to even fewer.

Still, he can recall one memory clearer than the rest.

While Rin had been busy lamenting the lack of clams, Sae had tugged him by the back of his shirt, pulling him to the wayside as he stuck his fingers into the earth. Obviously, Rin was too caught up in his misery to notice, but his sniffles soon died down when he saw the faintest of bubbles lurk beneath the sandy surface. Sae taught him how to dig, how to plant feet into the ground, how to scavenge for survival. And Rin followed without question.

Soon, a cast of translucent crabs spilled forth from the pits, scuttling in massive red tides. Rin scooped some out with bare hands, sectioning them into segments: the ruby shells of a pomegranate, dividing and dividing again. He held a hermit up to the light, a look of gleeful amazement on his features. Was it their shells that determined their shape or the tender bodies inside them? Rin could never tell. All he knew was that these crabs were a different sort of treasure, ones that he cradled gently with bare hands and shielded from the foraging gulls. They were creatures meant to be loved.

The waves now break across concrete fortifications, crashing upon cubic breakwaters. By the time Rin reaches the paved promenade near the shores, Sae is already there, feet drowned in the freezing Pacific, the shirasu swimming between his toes. He doesn’t even turn when the sand crunches with footsteps, and Rin silently curses his brother’s superior senses.

“I thought I told you not to come, Rin.”

“I know....But I still wanted to.”

In Rin’s mind, it doesn’t matter if Sae didn’t want him to be there. It doesn’t matter that he should’ve never come. He’d always keep chasing this dream if it meant he could stay. In fact, any ill omen would be better than this sinking pit in his stomach, this feeling that something was about to change forever.

The twinkles of light in the sky ripple across the sea, and Rin can’t help but see the view reflected in his brother’s visage. Sae’s eyes are like the ports of Sagami Bay, hardened with the carapace of cold comfort. Absence, Rin believes, would be his brother’s ultimate paradox. Sae could do everything and nothing all at once, and he would still be both the empty hole and the overflowing home. If eyes could be waves and faces could be stars, Sae would be the coldest, but he would also burn the brightest. Right now Rin just wants some of that warmth.

“So...you’re really leaving?”

“Yeah. I’m going ahead of you now. You better catch up.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll do my best to become scouted like you.”

“Right. And then onto the world. The two of us will become the best there is.”

A silence hangs between them, loose as a thread. The wind whistles across the boardwalk, stirring up small spirals of volcanic sand. Sae notices Rin’s contemplative expression, following his gaze until he finds the moon still in the sky, lit up by the fading light of Polaris. Rin prays silently, knees tucked into his chest as he clasps his hands tightly together. His soft whispers are frequently interspersed by distant murmurs of the sea.

Please let Nii-chan be safe. Please don’t let him forget me.

The sunrise is about to start, one more hour until the day fully begins. Sae has to put an end to this, or else he'll never leave.

“Stop praying, Rin. They’re just stars. They'll die before your wish can come true.”

Rin peeks an eye open, unfurling from his tucked position. He looks to the stars then back at Sae, a familiar prickling in his eyes. Sae doesn’t even need to check to know that he’s crying.

“I just...” Rin’s voice wavers, “I think I’lll miss you, Nii-chan. At least send a message home?”

“Maybe. When I have the time.”

“Oh...okay.” Rin looks down awkwardly, staring at his feet before perking up again, “Do you think our dream can be achieved in a few years? I’ll come visit you in Spain! Maybe we’ll even play for Royale together.”

“You better. Don’t slack off just because I’m not here.”

“I know. I won’t.”

Rin had never been particularly good at farewells, let alone his first one. His voice is watery now, as if liquid and unable to be contained.

“Hey...Sae?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you really think we’ll make it big?”

There’s a pause in the conversation, the length of it too long for Sae’s liking. For once, certainty does not come to him as easily. But Rin already knows there is a fundamental difference to the depths of his brother’s greed. Sae’s eyes harden into flints, his voice crashing across the sandy beaches, unrelenting in its harshness but still shapelessly soft.

“We have to.”

Rin doesn’t have anything to say to that. Neither of them do. If killing himself meant living forever, then Sae Itoshi would have died a long time ago.

He would have died and become a star.

author's note: to whoever made it down here, thank you for reading the words i’ve curated at the cost of my sleep schedule. this chapter was supposed to be a purely self-indulgent one-shot about rin’s character, but it quickly devolved into a multi-chapter fic (oops.) majority of the content is pulled from the official manga, the spin-off novel translations, and occasionally my own personal interpretation. the extended star metaphor is inspired by @hanyjar (my lovely moot) and franny choi's poetry in the atlantic. while the plot follows the original canon chronologically, you can theoretically read the scenes in any order, and the vignettes are meant to vacillate between different scenes and interactions. regardless, rin seeks the same path of self-destruction throughout all scenarios, even if it means losing himself. (atp he needs to go to therapy, and i need to go touch grass.) anyways, thank you for reading, and it genuinely means a lot to see people interact with my works!

227 notes · View notes

curlycarrion · 2 months

Text

Night watch

Reader: fem reader in mind. Comparing to Nami and Robin and use of the words pretty and beautiful

Warnings: Talk of insecurity from the readers perspective. It's only for a small short portion and it's mild but if you feel that may make you uncomfortable please be warned

Context: Unable to sleep Sanji comes to visit you

Wc: 2.4k

A/n: Here's my second fic so far, I'm honestly enjoyin writin these. It's a little more self indulgent but sfw so I hope y'all don't mind ^x^ I hope y'all like it 💛 ( also happy Valentine's for those who celebrate it ) oh yeah also, I got the idea for this after spammin 'I carrion (Icarian)' by Hozier into my skull so do with that what you will

It was quiet. Unusually so.

The night high up above the ship while sat in the crow's nest usually was, being so far away from the snores of the sleeping crew will do that. But no, it was more silent than usual. The sea was in a rare state of calm for once. No frantic waves that crash against the wood of the ship and violently rock her inhabitants, no rumbles from winding and curling sea kings lingering from deep below the surface, no hint of marines or rival pirates on the horizon.

It was just calm. The moon shining down in glittering silver streaks on the waves that are gentle as they lap along the length of the Sunny, leaving you in near silence to sit alone with your thoughts. An opportunity to do what you liked without fear of teasing from the others no matter how lighthearted it was.

The silence was too deafening. Not even the guttural snores from some of the men sleeping next to him able to cut through the thick quiet. The cool night air reaching him even under the covers of the blanket draped over his frame. The silence thrumming in his inner ear only to be covered with his thoughts that won't seem to cease. First from what to cook in the morning, then to the unusually uncomfortable feeling of his shirt folding over itself beneath his back as it catches on the sheets, then to the familiar cold and dark surrounding him despite knowing that there's no reason to fear it. Not anymore, that's what he tells himself at least when he feels the fabric around him opposed to the memory of stone that drains the warmth from you.

Below deck things were in a similar state of calm, the soft rocking of the deck leading everyone to obtain a restful slumber. Similar to that of a crib or the curl of a parents arms around their child that breathes comfort into the bones of the crew.

All except for Sanji.

Deciding he'd had enough of staring into the void of the men's quarters he rises from his resting position to step outside and have a smoke. Hoping the familiar taste of nicotine on his tongue would calm him, even a little. If not then he'd just go ahead and get started on preparations for everyone's meal, if he's not going to be able to sleep he might as well make himself useful. Stepping out into the open air and lighting his cigarette as he takes in his surroundings. The night that should be comforting at the moment only making a strange sense of loneliness root into him before remembering you up above. Nigh watch. Some company might do him some good. Pleasant company at that. You never really seemed to turn him away and he's almost certain you won't now despite the late hour.

As he climbs his way up he slowly starts to hear the welcome sound of your voice. Already feeling his thoughts begin to quiet knowing that your presence is close by. Though there was something different to the sound this time around. It sounded sweeter, it was soft, there was a tune to it… you were singing. Something new and foreign to him but still leaving a warmth to settle in his skin and into the cavern of his chest. The sound of it was a little muffled due to the distance between the two of you but that was swiftly remedied by him hastening his climbing.

Soon enough he finds himself beneath the hatch of the crow's nest. His ears picking up every sound and syllable possible without opening the door. Unsure of if you would stop your singing if he did, which was the last thing he would want. If your singing voice was actually any good he would never be able to tell. Not due to being tone deaf, but because any sound of your voice being the equivalent of a choirs grace upon him. You could sound like a crow with a cold and he would still listen to every word from you like gospel. Each pitch of your voice like a balm to whatever wound plagued him mind, if even for a moment. He finds his feet moving before his mind can catch up, hands reaching up to open the hatch and climb inside. The need to see you overcoming his desire to listen.

Inside he sees you sat beside one of the large windows, blanket wrapped around your figure. More to provide comfort than to actually stave off any cold since the night was a pleasant temperature due to the climate you were currently sailing in. The note filled tones of your voice ceasing when the squeak of the hinge and floorboards meet your ears. Head whipping around to look at the tall man entering the space.

"Oh Sanji.. it's just you," letting the tension fall from your shoulders you speak once more " what're you doing up? Couldn't sleep?" Sanji lets a small string of smoke escape from his lips, the tendrils curling into the air and dissipating when he steps closer.

"Sleep is not coming easily to me tonight, no. I thought I would come to see how you were doing.. the night watch can be lonely with no one else awake." He answers as he brings himself to sit beside you. Quietly taking in the comfort you provide and giving you a smile.

"What I didn't expect when I stepped up though was to find a little songbird in the nest. Do you sing to yourself every time you hide yourself away up here mon chou?" He finds some satisfaction to see the slightly shy look to cross your face, watching you gather yourself after you had realized he heard you after all.

"Oh uh.. yeah, yeah I do most of the time." You answer softly as you avert your eyes away for a moment.

"It helps to pass the time." Sanji's expression warms at the admission. Imagining what the many melodies that cross your lips at night are as they float off into the air to be unheard by the rest of the crew. Knowing you would likely shoot down the notion of singing for him if he requested it he decided to ask a different question, not wanting to push his luck too much despite wanting to hear your voice not blocked by the wood of the hatch.

"And what were you singing if you don't mind me asking?"

"It.. it's a song based on Icarus." Sanji's eyebrows raise curiously at the answer, removing the cigarette from between his lips as he gives you his undivided attention. Not that he wasn't before but this had raised his interest in what you were singing.

"Icarus?" He parrots while looking to you. "The one who fell to the sea after his wings melted?"

"Mhm the same one." You hum in confirmation, hands fidgeting idly with the edge of my blanket and back leaning against the wooden wall behind it.

"Though.. the song takes a different turn than the actually story goes. It's kind of a love song, a more sad one… but a love song nonetheless. At least in my opinion." 'Ah, so that's why you had seemed more shy about admitting it' Sanji thinks to himself. He watches your expression while you talk and after you finish, taking it in along with the features of your face. It was something he doesn't think he could find himself growing tired of.

"Do you frequently sing yourself love songs?" He asks next, feeling it was the next natural course of conversation save for asking more about that song in particular.

"I.. I do, the more sad or quiet ones mostly." Curling your knees to your chest and bringing your heels to rest on the seat of the bench you continue.

"There's just… something nice about them, comforting in a way I suppose." Sanji lets the silence settle for a moment after you'd finished speaking. Mulling over your answer for a moment.

"Is it something you want?" He asks quietly, realizing the question might've sounded a little vague he narrows it down further.

"Love I mean, someone to share your life with after this is all over." The question seems to have struck a chord, watching your eyes as they turn away from him.

"It, i-it is. Though I know it's not something I will probably find." Sanji's eyes widen in surprise at the words leaving you. Not expecting them from you in the slightest.

"Why?" He asks quickly after you had spoken, your answer being something he couldn't quite believe. You are silent for a few moments, debating on whether or not to answer the question. The deafening quiet of the room returning to dig its way into their ears once more. Leading Sanji to believe that you weren't going to answer, though eventually you do peep one out.

"Well I'm not exactly the most um… desirable thing around. I'm not pretty like Nami and Robin, and I'm not smart or clever like them, I'm ugly and quiet and awkward and, and I'm just something someone would want-" Sanji quickly cuts you off from speaking. Not able to bare hearing you tear yourself down and speak such lies for another moment. The words leaving you making his heart stutter and sink, feeling the beating in his chest as he trains his eyes on you and snuffs his cigarette.

"No," he says firmly and with a sense of urgency "no, no you're perfect. You're everything I've ever dreamed of." He feels a stirring in his stomach. Hands reaching out to cup your cheeks and turn your attention to him, wanting to make sure his every word settled their way into your mind. Even if you didn't believe him, even if you thought he was lying, he wanted to make sure you knew what he felt when he looked at you. Feeling the warmth of your cheeks beneath his palms as his fingers curl past your jaw to brush beneath your ears.

"Every step you take whether it be to me or away leaves me breathless. Every breath and word from you is something that would make me crumble if I ever lost it." His thumbs gently smooth over the curve of your cheek, relishing in the feeling of your skin in his touch. The solitary of the night making him a little more bold in his words. Feeling like the calm and quiet is urging him to let out every thought and feeling he has ever had for you despite the fear of you not feeling the same. Not that he expected you to.

"Your eyes have the stars laying in them that I would pray to every night if it meant they would turn to gaze at me. Whether they're filled with the rage or exhaustion from a fight, the mirth from whatever you find funny at the time, or the sorrow of whatever you carry." He leans closer to you. His eyes beginning to reflect the dewy look that yours had taken.

"Every time I see you walk into a room it's like the world has become right and that the sun has finally turned to face me. I would gladly melt in the light of your sun and be your Icarus if I could even be near you for one lovely moment." His thumb softly moves to collect the tears beginning to slip down your cheeks, while he doesn't like the sight of your crying he takes it as a sign his words are sinking in.

"So please don't don't say you're undesirable or that you're unwanted. A world where that is true is one that doesn't exist, and it's a world where I'm not breathing." He takes in your face as he finally finishes speaking. The wide glassy eyes, the tremble in your lip, the burning of your cheeks seeping into his hands. It's something he'd burned into his memory. Finding you beautiful as your overcome with emotion. Eventually he goes to release you from his hands, not wanting to overstay his welcome with his touch no matter how much he craves to keep you to him. His thoughts telling him that you would never feel the same, something he is not a stranger to in the slightest. You'd never want someone like him.

At the feeling of his hands begin to lift you quickly stop him. Yours pressing on top of his on your cheeks as you sniffle and shake your head the best you can.

"Please don't go." The words are quiet and wobbly, whispered into the room as your hands press his into your skin more.

"You can't say that and then just leave. You can't just say that and not let me say that I love you too." His head snaps to you. His heart rapidly kicking up in response to the words. You liked him? You really did? It was almost inconceivable to him. The thought that you, the one who has seen him flounder around women, has seen him make a fool of himself, seen some of his worst moments.. that you had reciprocated, he couldn't believe it. But the way you were looking up at him. It was impossible to deny. He saw the way he looked at you reflected back at him. Something he had never noticed before when he was too focused on his work or your presence whenever you would grace him with it.

He quickly pulled you into his embrace. Arms wrapping around you tightly, almost feeling that it's not close enough. He finally had you in his arms. The scent of your conditioner and your skin filling his senses. Something he thought he would never be able to obtain. Leaning back just enough to where he can look into your eyes once more, noses almost brushing against one and other.

"Do you mean it? If you don't I don't think I will ever recover." He asks quietly, his breath mixing with yours as takes in everything of the moment.

"I do." He doesn't even give you time to say another word as he feels his heart skyrocket from elation. Crashing his lips to yours as he feels like he's overflowing with a joy and love, pouring his feelings into you and finding that the same is being returned. One hand cradling into your hair and the other meeting your back to pull you closer, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him in.

He had always expected his first kiss with you to be different. Gentle and soft after taking you to the most beautiful places he could find and proving himself to you, but this…

This was more perfect than anything he planned.

Finally finding the home of you within his grasp as you both sat high above the world.

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #one piece sanji x reader #op x reader #one piece imagine #one piece #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #one piece fanfiction #fem reader

165 notes · View notes

xhdream · 4 months

Text

only for tonight (18+)

from ─ ⋆ dinna’s holiday special *ੈ✩

pairings: jooyeon x fem!reader x jiseok

genre: smut wc: 5k

summary: jooyeon sucks at secret santa, and when he shows up empty handed at the party where everyone’s exchanging their presents, he decides to gift his friend you for the night

contains: sub!reader, cnc sex, cuckolding that turns into a threesome, explicit language, unprotected sex, dirty talk, oral sex (m/f), choking (f), spanking, pet names, cussing (reader’s called a slut/whore), jooyeon is slightly toxic and possessive, alcohol consumption, a few slaps here and there, a sprinkle of anal play but no anal sex

a/n: please, keep in mind english is not my first language, i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

!! this is pure fiction for entertainment purposes

“Seriously, Jooyeon? How could you forget?” You whisper as loudly as you possibly could with the loud music blasting in the room. “It’s a Christmas party,” you add to emphasize his foolish mistake. He doesn’t seem to care though, swallowing the last few sips of yet another alcoholic drink, while you both follow Jiseok’s footsteps.

“Look, I get it, you can stop nagging now,” he hisses in a slightly irritated tone. “I’ll just get him something next week or something, it’s not a big deal,” he says, as you see Jiseok pointing at a white door.

You pass by the guests, leaving the living area and the three of you enter in which seems to be his bedroom.

You look around, enjoying the much quieter space. Jiseok’s apartment currently is definitely too crowded for your taste and this little empty corner of it was a nice change of scenery. Most of the time when there’s parties like this one you just decline the invite, but it’s Christmas, and it’s Jiseok’s first big party in his new apartment, there was no way you could’ve miss it. He was one of the few nice friends of Jooyeon who you didn’t mind being around.

He quickly opens and closes the wardrobe which is mostly empty like the rest of the room. The only thing he’s made is the bed and his gaming chair, the rest of his belongings are still waiting in an unopened boxes, except a few bags of clothes. He jumps over the scattered mess before walking up to you with a small present in his hand.

“Merry Christmas,” he gives you a genuine ear-to-ear smile, before speaking again, as you stare at the gift. “Pulled your name for Secret Santa.”

“Oh, really? Thank you, Jiseok…” you smile back, gently brushing through the red ribbon. “Merry Christmas to you too!”

Behind you Jooyeon leans back on the wooden desk, watching with interest how the scene unfolds.

“Awhh,” he imitates your surprised gasps, while crossing arms to his chest. “Open it already! Let’s see if it’s better than what I got you.”

You roll your eyes at the comments just for Jiseok to see. He only laughs, finding Jooyeon’s overreaction humorous, while you on the other hand couldn’t help, but feel like it rubbed you the wrong way.

Jiseok takes a step back, giving you time to open the gift. You rip off the festive wrapping paper, and after the small velvety box opens, you see a delicate silver bracelet, that makes you swallow your tongue in surprise. You did not expect such a beautiful piece.

“Oh my goodness, it’s gorgeous! I-I don’t know what to say…” You take it out carefully.

“Phew, thank god I don’t have to go back to that store.” Jiseok’s face puckers as if he remembers something really unpleasant. “Glad you like it though.”

“Absolutely,” you say, when you feel Jooyeon’s presence appearing behind your shoulder.

“Do you need help putting it on?” He steals the jewellery from your hand, viewing it up close.

You nod without saying a word, as something unsettling drops to the pit of your stomach from the way he’s suddenly behaving.

He reaches for your wrist, while Jiseok is already about to exit the room.

“Alright, I gotta return to my party, I’ll wait fo—“

“Actually,” Jooyeon cuts him off, clasping the dangling bracelet. “I was supposed to get you something too, but I completly forgot. Hope you don’t mind.” He holds your hand between his two palms for several seconds, before letting it go.

“Of course not,” Jiseok grins, finding the possibility amusing. “No biggie.” He opens the door, but his friend interrupts again.

“You’re not mad? It’s your party after all, and you got my girlfriend a nice present.”

“Dude, don’t worry about it. You’ll buy me a beer and we’re even.” He shrugs shoulders with eyes still smiling. His hand holds the door lock, as he notices some changes in Jooyeon’s expression.

“Now that I think about it… I actually might have something for you,” Jooyeon’s lips slid upwards, causing Jiseok to raise a brow.

“And that is?”

“Y/N. Only for tonight, of course.”

“What?” you exclaim, hoping for an immediate explanation.

Jiseok’s surprise follows yours with a delay, because he wasn’t sure if he heard right.

“What are you talking about?” he asks, just when you move to stand between the two of them.

You and Jooyeon are face to face, but it’s like he looks right through you. You couldn’t understand a word of his at this point. Instead of giving you some clarity, he takes a quick look at his phone.

“There’s an hour and a half left till midnight. I think that’s more than enough.” He shoves the cellphone back in his pocket, and waits for any reaction from Jiseok, who could only stare at him in disbelief.

“I don’t think I get it,” he shakes his head, not able to take the idea seriously. It sounds too good to be true, especially from the mouth of Jooyeon who doesn’t let any guy from his friend group even breathe next to you.

“I’m giving you one hour with my girlfriend,” your boyfriend explains in a completely calm manner, that made your skin crawl. “That’s my christmas gift.” A delighted smile takes over his face when he wraps an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Come on, don’t pretend in front of me.”

Jiseok attempts to say something back, but he only gets silenced, as Jooyeon’s rising voice dominates the conversation.

“We’re friends and good friends share with each other, right Y/N?”

You shake your head in response. You couldn’t recognise your own boyfriend at that moment.

“She was so worried that I didn’t buy you anything. Tsk, my sweet considerate kitten, always looking out for others.” He eyes you up and down, grinning mischievously, still not letting go of Jiseok. “I know you want to fuck her,” he whispers in his ear. “You’ve always wanted to.”

“Jooyeon…” your breath hitches, as you look for the right words. He couldn’t be talking seriously. He couldn’t give you to someone else.

“Yes, doll.”

Jiseok flinches, after Jooyeon pulls away. He comes up to caress your cheeks, anticipating your words. Either his fingertips are cold or you’re just on fire all of a sudden, you couldn’t tell.

Before you could form a coherent thought, Jooyeon forces his lips on top of yours. The jewellery box falls from your hand, as you wince from his grip. The alcoholic taste flows into your mouth, when he parts your lips to slip his tongue, stimulating all of your senses. Whatever the situation was, Jooyeon’s touch always brought butterflies in your stomach, making you forget what’s happening around you, and that drove you crazy.

Your mouth begins moving like it has a life of its own, letting more of his tongue in, smooching his bottom lip, swallowing more of his breaths, as if your mind wasn’t whispering you to back away and leave.

“He’s watching, right?” He drops the question between your kisses with an erotic raspiness to it.

You pull back, peaking from his shoulder and catch Jiseok’s stare. This makes him immediatelly look to the other side of the room, acting as if he didn’t see a thing.

“Go sit down.”

With your legs trembling, you do as Jooyeon commands, sitting at the end of the bed. He comes to grip on the sides of your turtleneck sweater, fully removing it from your body. The sudden chilly air makes you shiver, as you remain in your lacy bralette.

“Let’s show him how fucking gorgeous you are.”

He tosses the piece of clothing on the ground and glares at his friend.

Jiseok sighs, running a hand through his dark hair, as he always does when he’s contemplating about something. He walks around the room, straying away as far as possible, but his attention turns back to you every time. He tries to compose himself, however, his body language betrays him. Suddenly all of the perverse thoughts he’s had of you on the days you’ve hung out together can be evident in his expressions.

Jooyeon sees them all.

“You’re very quiet over there.” Your boyfriend evokes.

“What do you want me to say?” Jiseok raises his voice, as his expression transforms into something different than what it used to be. “Yeah, I want to fuck her, so what?” He scoffs after he sees Jooyeon’s satisfied smirk follow.

He watches him jump on the bed without paying more attention to him.

The truth is, Jooyeon has been secretly wanting to share you with someone for a while now, and the only person he’s willing to do it with is Jiseok. They grew up together, and Jooyeon has learned through the years how to read every single expression of his face. He’s perfectly aware that Jiseok has been dreaming to fuck you the day he introduced you to him as his girlfriend - alone, he can bet.

Your heart starts raising in a dangerous speed, as both of them finally surround you. Jiseok gets closer only to drop down in your legs.

“He’s been wanting to do this for so long, sweetheart, let him have a taste.” He moves your hair across the shoulder to kiss your neck. He knows this is a very easy way to make you lower your guard, it was one of your favorite places to feel him on your body. The numbness in your bones gradually decreases with every warm nibble he makes at your flesh.

You open your eyes wide when you feel your jeans unzip. Jooyeon gets you to stand up and you nervously pull them off, so close to Jiseok who’s sitting on his knees in anticipation that’s too obvious.

He couldn’t control his gaze as much as before. He follows the length of your legs - from your feet, kneecaps, to your plush thighs, that seem not so resistant as before. Instead of staying closed, they slowly open, revealing the dark violet color of your underwear.

“My gorgeous, gorgeous girl…” Your boyfriend traces a finger down to your bellybutton. “With the most delicious cunt,” he presses his middle finger hard exactly on your clit, causing you to hold your breath. “Time runs fast, if you want to get your dick inside, you better start eating,” he glares down at his friend, before pulling your panties, leaving them to hang around your ankles.

For Jiseok this is like a slap in the face. He would’ve never imagined that of all girls he knows, he would get to taste you - the main character in most of his fantasies. He twitches in his underwear, as he completely removes you from your own.

“Excited?” Your boyfriend asks, braking him out of his trance and gives your bare pussy a harsh slap.

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes out, wetting his lips.

Jooyeon watches with amusement the way he gulps while thirsting over the view. He can fuck you whenever he wants, while his friend gets only an hour.

It takes you a second to realise this is really happening. When Jiseok goes in between your inner thighs and lets his flat tongue slide up your folds, you feel your brain shutting off.

He doesn’t start slow. He doesn’t even give you a chance to get used to his unfamiliar mouth. He twirls his tongue up your clit, causing you to gasp over and over again. His jaw moves in a rush, as he’s trying to eat as much as he can from you, in case Jooyeon changes his mind. You can feel how you warm up inside from every harsh lick he leaves on you, each one getting stronger and only better than the last one. It forces your teeth to chew on your lips, repressing every sound that creeps up in your throat.

It doesn’t feel right to show how much you actually like this.

“Damn, he’s not playing,” Jooyeon cackles at Jiseok’s face digging harder into you, as he holds your legs apart. “But a slut like you must enjoy that, right?” He looks at your lips pressed desperately together, taking it as an answer.

Jiseok moves onto slurping greedily at your slickness in a way that makes you believe a single drop doesn’t get wasted. His on going muffled moans shoot vibrations through your core only adding to the already existing moisture. You were not the only one aware of the lewd squelching noises in the room, because you could feel the growing boner poking at you from behind. It means you’re really as wet as you feel, and it means Jooyeon knows it too.

Your cheeks flush, as the need for more gradually builds up in your lower tummy, making you muddle over the thought of cumming in front of them. If Jiseok doesn’t stop soon it will be impossible to keep hiding your emotions, and you’re not sure what would that mean for you. Is this really what Jooyeon wants?

“Shit, you sound so pretty down there, kitten,” Jooyeon’s warm alcoholic breath kissess your face, as you press your tilted head in the crook of his neck. “Getting wetter, huh?”

He makes sure to follow carefully every little flinch of your body; how your chest now falls quicker than it did minutes ago. How your legs occassionaly make his hands shake, forcing him to tighten the grip around them. He’s impressed you made it this far without moaning, but also flattered.

Your legs drop to the floor at the same exact moment Jiseok pulls back from your pussy for the first time since he went down on you. He allows you to take a good look of his glistening face, as the stripes of your bra slip from your shoulders. The lust in his eyes becomes so apparent as the lingerie exposes your chest, that all of your doubts and insecurities begin to fade away. The immediate thought that runs into your mind from gazing at his seducing plump lips makes your heart skip a beat. How have you not noticed his attractiveness till now? You watch him take his slender fingers to his mouth, gathering all of the wetness you coated him with only to suck it off with ease. The provocativeness in his act makes your adrenaline rush go higher, but the unexpected words after it even more.

“Sweet,” he humms in a dreamy voice. “Just how I expected you to be.”

You swallow shyly, as if you were sucking on the sticky mess along with him. As much as you want to, you can’t deny it - he turns you on.

You jerk up from your seat as Jooyeon’s own fingers brush through your exposed nipples, stealing your attention away from Jiseok, who on the other hand uses the opportunity to pull you down a little, so he could draw in your entire cunt into his face.

“Fuck her hole with tongue, she loves that shit.”

With your sensitive perked up nipples being pulled on, and Jiseok’s experienced tongue moving in and out of you, it’s no use to resist anymore. You squeeze your eyes and let it out as if Jiseok’s not there at all.

“Ahh, that’s it,” your boyfriend smirks approvingly over your soft cries, tightly holding you in his lap. “Don’t hold back, dirty girl, I wanna see how big of a whore you can get. Let it all out for me.”

When he catches your fingers tugging on the sheets from the overwhelming amount of tongue fucking, he leaves your breasts and forces your wrists behind your back.

Meanwhile, Jiseok suddenly moves his tongue between your lips, slowly sliding his way up to your clit. He sucks on the swollen bud relentlessly, as he fills up your needy hole with two fingers. You arch your spine, while every twist makes your legs shake every two seconds in the air. You don’t realise you’re about to close them around his head from the sensational feeling until he stops you with his free hand, as he begins to aim at your sweet spot with the other - knuckles deep inside you.

It feels so good you could feel the room spinning without lifting your eyelids.

“Fuck, gonna cum any second now…” Jooyeon grunts, but his words could be barely heard from your moaning, that only gets louder. “You’re so fuckin’ easy.” The knuckles of his hands are almost white from keeping your wrists tightly together while your body squirms out of control because of another guy. His vision turns hazy, an effect from the mixture of arousal and alcohol flowing in his veins while Jiseok savours every second of your orgasm.

After the fingers curled up between your walls slow down, your body loosens up like it’s made of jelly. You rest your head on Jooyeon’s thigh, feeling lightheaded and out of breath while his palm strokes your scalp gently like it’s praising you.

“Time to fill you up, doll.” He says, finding your mouth with his fingers. You stick out your tongue feeling their familiar warm texture, as you realise that for the first time tonight his voice sounds softer. The moment you’re about to wrap your lips around them though, he pulls away.

You shift on the bed, not sure what exactly to do, while both of them unbuckle their pants.

“You’re not allowed to look at her face from now on, got it?” Jooyeon warns Jiseok who only nods, but also very clearly tries to hold back a chuckle as well. “I’m serious.”

“Got it.” Jiseok replies more earnestly, stroking his erected cock at the sight of you waiting on all fours in the middle of his bed. The flushed look of your spread cunt dripping down your skin, and clenching from thin air makes him so impatient, but he has to wait for Jooyeon to do the first move, or he risks ruining his chance.

You suck your bottom lip, as you watch Jooyeon posing fully naked in front of you. He grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to look up.

“If I catch you looking anywhere else I’ll get very mad, kitten.”

You’re only able to nod at his threat.

“I know you enjoy acting like a slut, but you should know who you belong to.”

“I’m yours, Jooyeon,” you murmur weakly, tracing his thigh with one hand. You see the corners of his lips slid up, and you repeat the same words again. Slower this time, letting the effect sink under his skin.

While you have this moment with him, you could feel Jiseok’s presence getting closer from behind, and it makes your skin burn with a new type of desire you haven’t experienced before. It makes your pussy tingle from excitement, as you’re aware this isn’t something you should be feeling. The second his palm touches your waist you shiver from eagerness to feel him entering inside. You still haven’t recovered from your first release, but you don’t care.

Your nails dig into your boyfriend’s flesh, as you expand to meet Jiseok’s cock. Everything happens so easily, so smoothly from the way you got slippery wet beforehand. The immediate pleasure that shoots through your body makes your jaw drop immensely, but Jooyeon makes sure to close it by grabbing your face roughly with his big hand. He squeezes harshly, and you couldn’t believe the amount of arousal this brought you.

“Enjoy this while it lasts, doll,” he stares down at you while soft mewls drip through your squished lips, as Jiseok glides in and out. “You get to whore out, because I let you to. Don’t fuckin’ forget that.” His erection twiches at your pretty sounds, leaking precum from the sweet pressure.

What you’re doing right now is scandalous, and you would’ve never thought that you would agree to something like it in your whole life, but seeing how turned on Jooyeon gets, makes you want to go all the way.

“O-oh my god,” you moan through hitched breaths from Jiseok’s hips now thrusting into a much quickening pace.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you, slut?” Jooyeon asks.

“Ngh-h, y-yes…” you admit, not able to look at him for too long from embarrassment.

“I knew it,” he grins, gazing at your pretty face with smeared makeup all over it. How it immediately blushes from his words. “I know you so well, my doll. Better than anyone.”

Your head drops down from neck pain when he lets go, leaving it to move back and forth from the pounding. You squel from swallowing Jiseok’s cock even deeper now, taking every new hit he sends to your g-spot. The skin around your waist burns from his fingertips gripping harder, as he aims for steady and more intense thrusts. Nasty cussing and deep moans keep flying from his mouth, blending with your own sounds, and you can’t help, but shut your eyes and hold on Jooyeon for support.

“Fuck, look at you already passing out,” he chuckles, removing your hands from himself.

You’re just about to adjust when an unexpected slap lands on your face and for a brief moment you lose all sorts of orientation. Your upper body sinks into the mattres meanwhile your toes curl at Jiseok’s continuous thrusting.

“Eyes up, slut.” Jooyeon demands, as he wraps a fist around his base, waiting for you to face him.

The only reason you’re able to keep yourself on your elbows is because your hole gets emptied, allowing you to catch your breath. You feel it twitching miserably from the sudden absence.

“Shit, she feels so good,” Jiseok traces a hand along your spine, before going back to your ass, giving it a loud smack. “I can do this all night,” he slaps harsher, earning a squeal from you.

You’re so tempted to turn around, but you shouldn’t.

While he plays with your cheeks Jooyeon gets closer, causing his flushed tip to brush at your drooling lips.

“Wider.” He grumbles at your pathetic attempt to open your mouth. It already hurts enough from moaning so much.

His head falls back, as you take more and more, freeing him of some of the tension. Your tongue doesn’t stop pleasing his thickness, as you move further, winning yourself a few praises by managing to take all of his length.

“Good job, sweetheart, take all of it for me..” he groans, not able to hold back from bucking his hips up anymore. He wants to feel as much as possible of your warm throat.

You concentrate on moving your mouth around him, keeping his pace, but Jiseok becomes a distraction. You sense his fingers moving to your folds, teasing, before gathering some of the fluids. He catches you off guard, when you realise he uses them as lube to massage your tiny asshole while you blow your boyfriend. Your stomach twirls from the new burst of arousal. Jooyeon has never done this to you.

When Jiseok catches you whining softly, he decides to add a little more pressure, keeping the circles on the sensitive spot going.

The overstimulating feeling makes you slow down your sucking, and you end up with only your boyfriend’s leaking head inside your mouth. The circles are getting addictive, and not enough at the same time.

Once Jooyeon catches that he gives your cheek another slap, that stings for a little longer this time.

“You’re slacking,” he complains, and you instantly swallow him whole again.

“Have you ever fucked her ass?” Jiseok asks, sliding a small portion of his index finger, already aware of what the answer is going to be.

As you help yourself with your fist, you accidentally grip the exposed base of Jooyeon’s cock a bit harsher than you’re supposed to when you feel the finger twist around, streching you, and caressing your nerves.

Jooyeon hisses from the pain, but a part of him certainly got turned on.

“No,” he admits dryly.

“I think she’d like it.” Jiseok plays with the tight hole that squeezes half of his finger so nicely, that it leads to him automatically fantasising another threesome in the future. With you being filled up both ways.

Jooyeon chuckles when you spit him out to free a drawed out whimper.

“We’ll try it out, right baby? Just the two of us.” He asks, shifting up to fill your drooling mouth again. “You’re a good little slut who loves getting filled up after all.”

Jiseok removes his finger slowly, watching how the hole clenches desperately afterwards. Lucent mess drips between your cheeks only increasing his cravings. He couldn’t help, but wonder what other things you’re probably missing out on in bed, as his hand crawls up your back again.

You wrap your lips around Jooyeon’s red leaking tip, sucking just how he likes it, while your skin shivers from the warm wandering palm. The sheets under you soak with spit, as you go further, speeding up the pace to get him to finish. When you welcome the head back into your throat, you hold for a moment, preparing to spit it out in the next few second for a quick break. However, just when you try to pull away, Jiseok’s hand appears around your neck, pushing you all the way back down.

“Need a hand?” He asks in your ear, as he keeps your head down with Jooyeon’s emphasised tip stabbing your throat.

Your forehead sinks into Jooyeon’s lower abdomen, as you get teary eyed, dripping on his skin. You grabble onto him for support when the strong grip begins to move you up and down his hard length.

“F-fuck, love that dirty mouth so much..” Your boyfriend sighs, as you make his balls harder by coating him with saliva, gags and pleading noises. He rests back on his hands, watching like hypnotised the way his friend takes full control over your mouth.

With his other hand Jiseok takes your tangled hair up in order for Jooyeon to enjoy the sight of the visible lump in your throat, swelling from his pulsing cock. Seconds later that feel more like hours he drags you up, letting you cough your lungs out, before forcing you down again, causing Jooyeon to almost break down from pleasure.

You can swear you hear them exchange words, but you have no idea what they are, cause the only thing on your mind is how badly you need to breathe. Both of them throb from arousal, as they continue to bully your inflamed throat with never ending pushes. And despite the painful suffocation they bring you, you enjoy every moment of it.

Without a warning, Jiseok shoves his soaked cock back inside you, taking a pathetically sounding scream from your stuffed mouth. After he leaves your neck alone, you feel a shooting pain flying through your body, and all of it comes from him forcing his dick mercilessly in and out of you. You lose control and choke, turning Jooyeon’s low moans into rising wails.

“F-fuck, fuck, just like that..” your boyfriend whines, pressing your resisting head down his stimulated erection. “Take it like a true slut, baby.”

The lewd noises echo through the walls, clashing with the strong skin on skin slapping, that’s like music to Jooyeon’s ears. All sounds coming from the party outside the door are blocked out from his mind, leaving room only for what slips out of your mouth and drenched stretched out pussy. They pull his peak closer and closer, until it shatters.

You don’t know how or when, but Jooyeon’s cock is out of your mouth, and instead it’s spraying your whole face with ropes of hot cum. You gasp for air while also fight the urge to cry, as keeping yourself steady for him becomes torture with Jiseok chasing his own orgasm from behind. The thick seed sticks all over your skin, dripping down your neck and lips. Your jaw is stiff, your throat burns, your cheeks are puffy from tears, but Jooyeon is moaning from pure bliss, and that’s all you comprehend. Everything before that is a blur.

“F-fuck… so damn tight..” Jiseok groans behind your shoulder, leaving scarlet patches on your hips. He slams into you like he doesn’t care if it wrecks your insides or not, causing the sweet burning pain to tighten the overwhelming knot in your tummy.

You look up at the ceiling when your throat gets grabbed on from behind.

“God, the things I’d do to you if it was just the two of us..” He whispers in your ear. You can feel the mischievous smirk he speaks through, it leaves the same effect that a single lick from his tongue would’ve left you. “Hope you think of me next time he fucks you, sweetie.” He coos in quietly in your ear. “Bet he doesn’t eat pussy like I do, hm?”

You’re too perplexed from his bold words to do anything except listen and hope the way they make you feel doesn’t show through your face.

“I can eat ass even better than that.”

“P-please…” you could only sob in response. Your arched spine stiffens with pain, meanwhile you feel the burning sensation clearly as ever. “Please, let m-me cum, please..”

“Look at your whore begging me so nicely..” Jiseok scoffs, glancing at his friend who’s watching with his head tilted against the wall. But when your gummy walls grip his cock harder, the mocking sound turns into a deep moan.

Jooyeon shuffles in his place, peeling off his back from the wall. He takes a better look of his cum sliding down your delicious neckline, as he reaches between your legs.

“Should we let her?” Jiseok asks before scrunching his lips. His thrusts become slower and sloppier, but they don’t loose any of their strength.

Your boyfriend grins at your pleading eyes, that could barely stay open, as he stimulates your clit in addition to Jiseok’s tip hitting rough at your cervix. He nods at his friend and makes his slim fingers move quicker.

“You can cum now, doll.” He tells you, not able to look away from your dirty face. He sighs, feeling his weak cock trying to get hard again. It was expected, you look so hot covered in a total mess, while getting fucked in front of his eyes. Jiseok is going to think of this every time he looks at you from now on, and that excited him even more.

“Kiss me, please…” You beg, making Jooyeon lean in and slide his tongue into your dry mouth without hesitation.

His quick fingers work your clit, forcing your orgasm to come as soon as possible. His tongue plays with yours through erotic deep kisses that steal the few breaths you got left from Jiseok’s hands squeezing your throat.

When you crumble from the intense heat that quickly follows from the knot finally snapping, Jooyeon’s mouth swallows your mix of moans and whines. They make his skin run hot, and his blood boil in a way that could not compare to any alcoholic drink he’s ever had.

After you turn around to face Jiseok you can feel his words from earlier still lingering somewhere inside your mind. From his fixated gaze you get the feeling it’s the same for him too. His abs clench vividly, and when you go lower you see the view of his thick cock which shape you got so familiar with, filling his fist.

You surprise yourself when without even giving it a second thought, you lean down, allowing him to release on your face.

“You’re so nasty, sweetie..” He tilts your chin up. “Letting me cum over your boyfriend’s mess on that pretty face,” he speaks excited, while you look at him back through your tired hazy eyes. “I was gonna paint your sexy ass, but I like this idea too.”

Seconds later, Jooyeon watches his friend’s fluids landing on top of your face; some of it getting caught in your hair. They mix with his own turning your lovely features into a sinful mess he wants to capture forever. Without saying a word he jumps from the bed leaving you and Jiseok staring at each other with both your chests falling up and down in sync.

As you stay still, feeling all of the cum sinking under your skin, you follow your boyfriend’s figure. He returns with a playful smile and his phone pointing right at your face. You blink at him stunned.

Jiseok immediately claps approvingly, it’s like Jooyeon reads his mind sometimes. He was just thinking the same thing.

As many people have told them before, they’re the same person just split into two different bodies.

“Smile, gorgeous,” your boyfriend says with a cheeky grin, and you obey.

As you always do.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

#dinna’s holiday special #xdinary heroes smut #xdinary heroes hard thoughts #xdinary heroes hard hours #xdh smut #jooyeon smut #xh hard hours #kwak jiseok smut #jiseok smut #gaon smut #jooyeon hard thoughts #xdinary heroes x reader #gaon hard thoughts #jiseok hard thoughts #jooyeon x reader #jiseok x reader #gaon x reader

166 notes · View notes

brotherblaze · 1 year

Text

double black² —wednesday addams

▹ wednesday addams/gn!gorgon!reader

▹ synopsis: Wednesday witnesses exactly how the fights you get into usually start out, and the aching consequences.

▹ content warnings: violence, angst

▹ word count: ~2,2k

▹ part 1 | navi / AO3

"The movie was shit, by the way; pure torture. At least I was alone 'cause normal people don't go to the movies on a fucking Tuesday."

You cradle the flame from your lighter in the palm of your free hand as you bring it to the end of your cigarette. The sweet smell of mint washes over you as it ignites and the lighter snaps shut with a resounding click. You inhale and the tip glows bright red.

"That's a horrible habit," Wednesday comments, sitting next to you on the stone railing surrounding the front lawn of the school. She eyes the cigarette with a look of contempt.

"It's supposed to start tasting more and more disgusting as time goes on." You pluck the cigarette from your mouth and balance it between your pointer and middle fingers. "Like soap, I think. Guess I'll quit when I get there." You take another drag and tilt your face up. Smoke rings float into the air. Gray soot falls off the burnt end and lands on the stone you're sitting on. Wednesday brushes it off with a frown.

She opens her mouth to respond with a biting retort but a sharp whistle cuts her off. It's painfully loud and she whirls around to tell whoever it is to fuck off. You beat her to it, shoulders turning and body following until you're sitting so you're facing the school. The man grins and says something in a foreign language.

You reply, tone sharp and biting, and extinguish the red-hot end of your cigarette against the stone railing. "Stay here," you tell her before you push yourself off the railing. Your boots thud dully when you land, scraping along the cobblestone-paved road to the stranger as you approach. Whatever you tell him next is drawn out.

Your voice has a lower pitch in this language. Rougher. Throaty.

(Wednesday finds herself liking it.)

Whatever you talk about, it leaves you agitated. There's a straightness in your shoulders she doesn't usually see, hands curled into fists at your sides. The man raises his hand to jab you in the shoulder and you slap his hand away. When his eyes meet Wednesday's, you immediately step into his line of sight. She watches a grin curl onto his lips. He leans down slightly to whisper something to you.

Your answer to whatever he said is a mouthful of spittle in his face.

He moves fast, too fast for him to be just human. The speed leaves her dizzy from just watching, and her heartbeat leaps into her throat when he suddenly has his arm wrapped around your throat from the back. You only hold a hand out, pointing a finger at Wednesday. "Don't." You wheeze loudly when he tightens his grip around your windpipe but your gaze stays on Wednesday like you're ordering her to stay where she is. "Don't."

The stranger says something. She sees his mouth move, but can't decipher what he's saying. The letters in his words don't make sense and the shapes his mouth makes when he speaks are odd. She can't focus, her gaze pinned to your face, the way your teeth grit together.

His hand is suddenly in your hair, arm around your throat loosening just enough to force your head forward and down to meet the brunt of his knee. Your teeth snap together as the world tilts on its axis and you fall onto your side, palms scraping along the gravel lodged between the cobblestones.

The spring air is cool and you welcome the burn in your lungs when you inhale. It doesn't last.

The hard nose of his boot strikes your ribs. It rips a pathetic wail from your lips as the pain rushes through your torso. Your eyes are watering. You attempt to roll away from him and your efforts are met with another hard kick.

The burn in your lungs becomes unpleasant all at once as you attempt to breathe. Every muscle in your torso is screaming when you attempt to pull yourself onto your knees to stand. Another kick to the ribs, another screeching wail of a banshee. This time, something crunches.

You roll onto your back, chest heaving. There's a lump in your throat you force back down.

Wednesday is rooted to the spot. Her feet feel like lead and she can't will them to move, to step forward and drag you away from the confrontation by the lapels of your jacket—maybe whack your assailant over the head with a thick branch.

She can't even startle when a new figure pulls the man off you, can't focus on the way coach Vladimir presses his knee against the stranger's throat. She just stares at your slowly moving figure, curling up with a wet gasp, shielding your head with your arms. The snakes in your hair are lying limp on the ground.

Larissa Weems arrives moments later, crouching next to your curled-up body. Her hair is in disarray, large strands of white falling out of their neat updo, curling around her face. Her fingers curl around your wrist, her mouth forming words to say something in a language Wednesday can't understand. You only curl further into yourself with a choked sob.

Wednesday's feet finally move and her boots scrape against the gravel. Weems' head snaps up and her eyes narrow on Wednesday.

"Ms. Addams, return to your room." Weems brushes a particularly annoying loose lock of hair behind her ear. Her gaze is hard, scrutinizing—like she's planning a murder and willing to commit it right in front of everyone's eyes. "Now, Ms. Addams."

Wednesday doesn't argue, can't even find her voice to argue. She places one unsteady foot in front of the other, knees weak, and heads towards the dormitories.

Your body aches.

It's dull, but it's everywhere.

Pain tingles in your ribs when you breathe and you almost want to growl out a swear but your jaw aches, too. Your tongue feels like dead weight in your mouth.

The muscles in your neck are tense, erupting in searing hot pain when you let your head tip to the side. The pillowcase against your cheek feels scratchy and you make a mental note to buy a new set of bedsheets once you're able to stand.

Wednesday is sitting in the beanbag chair next to your bed. Her textbooks are placed on the edge of your bed and she's furiously scribbling something into the notebook in her lap with a fancy fountain pen. She's wearing your sunglasses.

"Good evening." She continues her hasty scribbling, not bothering to look up as she greets you.

"I feel like I got into a fight with a bear. And lost." Your voice is hoarse and your throat dry. It's like you've swallowed sand.

"Something like that."

She caps her fancy pen and finally looks up. Her lips are pulled into a tight line but you can't see her eyes. She gently adjusts your sunglasses but doesn't remove them. Yet you can still feel the intensity of her gaze. So, you turn your head to stare at the other side of your bed.

You're met with a pile of colorful decorative pillows, fuzzy blankets, stuffed animals of all colors and breeds, with weird, bulging acrylic eyes. Even Enid's pink-and-orange sweater is resting next to your pillow, neatly folded. It's a size too small but you appreciate the sentiment.

"Enid thought you'd be more comfortable this way," Wednesday says from her spot in your beanbag chair. She doesn't move. You clear your throat and grumble something under your breath.

"Lotsa colors."

You have an accent, Wednesday realizes. It's faint, but it's there. English makes your voice softer—higher. She misses the roughness it had the night before.

She abruptly stands, straightening her sweater and pants. You turn to look at her with wide eyes, lips turned into a small frown like you're afraid she's leaving for good. Ask me to stay, she thinks.

But you don't.

"You missed dinner," she says. Her voice has the same lilt but for a moment the intrusive thought that maybe it's too harsh for your current condition flashes through. But you make no deal of it, only hum like you've resigned yourself to accepting any bad news she might announce. In a move that surprises even herself, she speaks, "I'll go get it."

You stare at her with wide eyes, mouth moving like you're about to tell her not to, to tell her you can do it yourself. Her reply is the most venomous look she can muster and a curt, "Don't move."

She's out the door before you can argue.

And she returns with a large tray in hand, holding not only your dinner but every single vegetable she could stand the sight of. Something about five different colors of vegetables.

Instead of where she left you, Wednesday finds you lying face-down on the edge of your bed. You groan, voice muffled.

"I take back what I said. I feel like I got run over by an 18-wheeler."

"Why are you out of bed?"

"I had to pee, like, really bad." Your arms are shaking when you push yourself onto all fours to climb back into the still-warm spot. You move slowly, every single fiber of every muscle in your body is screaming at the slightest movement. Wednesday watches from the side.

She places the tray on the edge of your bed once you've settled in and you bristle when you see that's plated.

"I hate mashed potatoes."

Wednesday ignores your comment as she sits next to the tray. She digs the spoon into the mashed potatoes on the plate and stirs it with the diced meat and gravy. She picks up a spoonful and holds it out to your lips.

"Eating like a poor 18th century eastern European peasant—my ancestors are rolling in their graves." Yet you lean forward to accept what she's offering. "They didn't survive the treat of gulags for me to eat bland mashed potatoes in the 21st century."

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

You lift your hand in front of your mouth and swallow. "Tastes like cardboard." But she doesn't give in to your complaints, only hums and lifts another spoonful to your mouth. You accept it. "The texture's horrible." You accept the next spoonful, too. "I can keep going."

"I have a lot of mashed potato left."

That shuts you up. Instead of arguing, you let her feed you. It's silent, only the sound of the metal spoon scraping against the ceramic plate when she reaches for another spoonful, accompanied by your grumbles when you discover an unmashed potato chunk in your mouth. She hands you a baby carrot once the plate is empty.

You pat the empty space next to you on the bed and shimmy slightly to the side to make more room for her. Your ribs strain and you clamp down on your tongue to keep a pained hiss in your mouth.

Wednesday places the empty plate onto your nightstand and climbs onto your bed. She tentatively lies down, like she's waiting for you to change your mind and reject her, to tell her to get out. You don't, you just break the baby carrot in half and shove both pieces into your mouth at once.

"How come you have a two-person bed?"

That sounds like a safe enough topic to start out on.

You look at her with a raised brow and hand her one of Enid's gaudy pink pillows to rest her head on. You clearly find joy in the face she pulls at it.

"I work in Jericho in the summer. Everyone else goes home and Larissa doesn't want me to sit around for three months, so she said she'd let me get new furniture if I made the money myself. I guess my constant begging was getting annoying."

Wednesday's eyes flicker to your lips. She reluctantly drags her gaze up again.

"What did he say?"

Your face drops. The crease between your eyebrows appears and she wants to reach out to smooth her thumb over it. Instead, her hand tangles into the sheet.

"Doesn't matter."

She sits up, leaning her weight on her hand still tangled with your bedsheet. "So he was just a douche whose girlfriend you flirted with? Another one of your conquests like everyone in school keeps talking about?"

"I think you should leave."

You turn onto your side with a string of swears under your breath and pull the blanket up to your chin. For good measure, you grab one of the stuffed animals Enid had left and bury your face into its soft fur.

Wednesday doesn't move for a few long moments. The seconds tick by on the alarm clock on your nightstand. Finally, she stands, straightening out her sweater, and quietly packs her things. On her way out, she grabs the empty plate.

The door clicks shut behind her and she stands in the hallway. She takes a moment to collect herself, a breath in, a breath out, and adjusts her backpack before she takes the first step towards the stairs at the end of the hall.

Something in her chest aches.

taglist: @stupendousbananajudgeshark @vaeeeel @eclipsesmoonshine14

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #wednesday #wednesday 2022 #fanfiction #fanfic

1K notes · View notes

fakegingerrights · 6 months

Text

Bloody knees and bruised cheeks

[Crosshair brainrot go brrrrr. TW: Alcohol, bar fights, questionable attitudes towards cloning, blood and broken glass. And Crosshair being a flirt in his own way. Crosshair x gn!Reader]

“This seat taken, Sunshine?�� The obviously drunk man’s breath hot on your cheek as he leaned in far too close for comfort.

“It is.” You bit back, glancing nervously at the bartender and hoping he’d get the creep off you. You knew your boyfriend had said he might be running late, but an hour and a half was pushing it.

“Well, I don’t see a name on it. Lemme buy you a drink.” The man cajoled, swirling his own cheap beer in his glass.

“I’m fine, thank you.” You leaned as far away as the barstool let you without tipping over. “I’m waiting for someone. And he wouldn’t like you hovering like this.”

“Is that a threat, Sweetcheeks?” The man growled, leaning even farther into your space. A cold voice snarled behind him, sending a ripple through you as you turned back to look at the newcomer.

“Yes.” Crosshair snarled, standing there in all his dusty and carbon stained, red and black armored glory as he placed himself between you and the drunk.

“That’s what you’re waiting for? A labgrown meat droid? I should take you home anyways and show you how a real man fucks.” The drunk slurred, lurching to his feet and squaring up to Crosshair. Cross didn’t budge, but you could tell he was too tired for this.

“She’s not going anywhere with you.” Crosshair’s voice was flat and cold, a hard promise. The drunk snarled, smashing his glass of half full beer against Crosshair’s pauldron, shattering it and sending shards everywhere. As soon as Cross was in the clear for self defense he grabbed the drunk and had him pinned on the bar.

“Care to-“

“Corascant guard is already on the way. Uh… sir.” The bartender fumbled, glancing at the bouncer for the bar. Crosshair grunted at the title. “We’ll take it from here if you want to take your girl home.” The barkeep offered. Even he could see the exhaustion in Cross’s shoulders.

“Great. Next time don’t let creeps get that close to an uncomfortable lady.” He hissed, passing the swearing drunk to a beefy looking zabrak. The greasy man took the opening and broke free, swinging wildly and connecting with Crosshair’s jaw just as he was turning away. As he did, you caught sight of a dripping red line cut into the side of his cheek just under his eye, presumably from the glass shattering.

He staggered but was quick to break the man’s nose and send him sprawling. The zabrakii bouncer got ahold of him now, pulling the drunk away.

Gingerly, you slipped your hand into Crosshair’s, getting his attention. “Let’s go home. Tonight’s a bust anyways. Unless you want to wait for the guard to get here and haul you to a hospital to patch your cheek up?” You murmured lowly, already knowing his answer and pulling towards the door before he even grunted a negative. There was a fine tremor in the very tips of his fingers as he tightened his grip on your hand.

The bar you two had planned to meet at for drinks was only a few blocks from your tiny shoebox of an apartment. Crosshair hissed and stepped away from you only a minute into your walk, shaking like a dog and sending residual splinters of glass tinkling to the ground.

“Bastard got glass in all the chinks of my armor. I’ll have to have Tech send it through a scrub cycle again.” He growled sourly. “Damn stuff got everywhere.”

“I can scrub it out when you get home. Call it a thank you for taking care of that guy.” You fumbled with the keys as he hovered behind you.

“I’m your boyfriend. That’s my fucking job.” Crosshair hissed softly, a hand finding your chin and lifting it so you met his eyes. He had taken his glove off to rid it of splinters. His hand was cool against your skin, fingers still trembling slightly in his exhaustion as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, nipping at them a little with a smug quirk of his mouth. He tasted like blood and ozone.

“My stars get a ROOM!” One of your helpful neighbors yelled from the apartment next to yours. You flipped them off without looking, dragging Cross inside and hardly even pausing the kiss.

His hand shifted from your jaw to curl protectively around your neck, the motion making you sigh into the kiss as you reach up to cup his cheek, only for him to hiss and pull away as your fingers meet the unpleasantly warm and tacky sensation of half dried blood from the cut on his cheek.

“Let’s get you out of your armor and blacks.” Your murmur, your voice slightly throatier than normal. At this close you could see the dark circles under his eyes and the rapidly darkening bruising along his jaw where he had been punched. He just grunted an affirmative as he fumbled with the catches, carefully removing each piece.

After he got all of it but his boots, there were several small shards even still that littered the floor. He took off the top of his blacks too, shaking the garment out. You gasped at the sight of bruised ribs and a row of neat stitches above his hip covered in thin medical film to keep them dry.

“It looks worse than it is.” Crosshair filled in the silence. He dropped the top of his blacks in the pile with the rest of his armor and gingerly flopped down on the couch, throwing an arm over his eyes as he sighs, tension slowly seeping out of his body as he relaxed.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, let me look at your cheek. And don’t get blood on that couch, it was my grandmother’s.” You call over your shoulder, grabbing a bag of frozen peas for his jaw and looking for the medistrips in the first-aid kit.

“Ah. So that’s why it smells like mothballs and old lady perfume.” He groused from his sprawled position.

“Har har har.” You rolled your eyes, catching his soft smile at the banter and grinning to yourself.

“I’m stealing your shower when I’m done.” He grunted, carefully sitting up and blinking as he took his arm off his eyes.

You sat on the tiny coffee/dining table in front of him, armed with a damp rag, first aid kit and your frozen vegetables. He took the peas and pressed them against his jaw, sighing at the contact as you dabbed at the bloody mess on the other side of his face.

“This is gonna sting a bit.” You warned as you doused a clean corner of the rag with hydrogen peroxide once you got the blood mostly cleaned up.

“When does it not.” Cross hissed rhetorically, his grip tightening on his knee as you cleaned the cut and made sure there was no glass embedded in his skin before carefully applying the medistrips and butterfly bandages you found. The cut wasn’t deep and you didn’t think it needed stitches, so it probably wouldn’t scar either.

“There you are. Now go shower, you smell like beer and a teen boy’s lockerroom.” You tease, helping him to his feet as he took the peas off his jaw, working it a few times to check for stiffness. Crosshair pouted at the insult but went, ducking into the small bathroom as you went through your drawers to come up with a pair of sweats and an oversized teeshirt for him to wear.

You knocked on the bathroom door before walking in, setting the clothes on the toilet glancing at Crosshair as he stood under the hot spray, rolling his neck appreciatively.

“You’re gonna send my water bill through the roof.” You tease, grabbing him a toothbrush and mint paste and passing it to him.

“That’s your fault, giving me access to the shower.” He snarked right back, sighing as he washed his hair, fingers combing through suds and silver curls. “Want to join me and make the most of it?” He offered, but you shook your head.

“Don’t think me joining will get you any cleaner. Might even do the opposite.” You wink as he rinses off again.

“Worth a shot.” He shrugged, turning the water off and motioning for a towel. You passed it to him with a fold exasperation as the two of you brushed your teeth and he got dressed, forgoing the shirt and toweling his hair off.

As you changed into nightclothes yourself and slipped into bed next to him, he seemed happy. Content. You pressed your face into the spot just above his sternum and sighed as one arm wrapped around you and the other tucked under his head, propping him slightly above you. You relaxed into the embrace, missing the words as they rumbled in his chest.

“What was that?” You mumbled sleepily, looking up at him.

“I said thank you.” He murmured right back, kissing your forehead. “And you’re out of conditioner.”

“Ass.” You accuse, snuggling closer.

“Proudly.” He agreed, a smile tugging at his lips. You were silent for a long moment and he almost thought you were asleep when you spoke up again.

“Why were you late?” You whisper into the darkness. Crosshair rumbles sleepily.

“Got jumped by vulture droids as we changed hyperspace lanes. Tech outflew them, as always.”

“And the mission?” You ask, listening to his slow heartbeat as he replies.

“Successful. Can’t say much else, unfortunately. Not sure when I leave again, before you ask.” He presses another kiss to your temple and tucks your head under his chin. “Go to sleep already, I’m tired.”

“Fine, fine.” You grumble. “Hey Cross? I love you.”

“I…” He paused, feeling stupidly off guard at the phrase even though you’ve said it a dozen times.

“I know.” You whisper, before he can doubt himself. “You don’t have to say it for me to know.”

“I love you too.” He whispered back, smiling sheepishly at the rush of elation and nerves he got even now every time he did. “I always will.”

#the bad batch #gingerwrites #star wars #the clone wars #tbb crosshair #clone wars #crosshair #crosshair x reader #soft crosshair #tbb crosshair imagine #tbb crosshair x reader

175 notes · View notes