#the performances were brilliant though | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taexoxosgf · 7 months

Text

ACROSS THE ROOM

PAIRING idol!mark lee x idol fem!reader

WORDS 6.4k

SYNOPSIS You were just so beautiful. The type of beauty that seemed unattainable. The type of visual Mark would never approach because he concluded that there are already a million people at your feet.

WARNINGS both are hot (yes, this needs a warning), fluff if you squint (rlly hard), smut, vaginal fingering, oral sex (male & fem receiving), unprotected sex, rough sex, multiple orgasms, missionary, doggy, slight hair pulling

NOTES repost. my old account is gone because i’m the dumbest bitch on earth.

February.

It had been two years since your group debuted. The award show season had just concluded and one idol group would host a party to celebrate all the hard work throughout the year.

You practically lived at the company at this point. Eating, sleeping, and spending all your breaks there. SM Entertainment has strict schedules regarding breaks and recovery time which has you constantly feeling as if you’re doing one thing after another.

Idols would rarely have any time for themselves or to let loose. Between the busy schedules and performances, there was scarcely any time for family or friends.

It’s only been two years, and you applaud other groups in the same company who have been slaving away for the past few years. But that was the price for fame and riches. Maybe it is worth it to some people. It was for you.

The art of music and dance was all you loved since you were a little girl. Performing for your family or school talent shows, your love for music never fizzled out as it did with some individuals. It could happen in the future, you think. You’re still early in your career, so you hope to become more optimistic; content with what you have.

This year, the group that was hosts is NCT. Groups from big companies such as HYBE, JYP, YG, etc. were in attendance. Since it was a rare occurrence, the boys split the cost of the mansion. It was such a brilliant idea to do this, you thought. There were so many of them, and it probably didn’t even make a dent in their bank accounts. It was a small price to pay so idols could freely interact without the pressure of cameras, and old friends could reunite.

Even though your group was in the same company as many of the artists, it was difficult to have time for conversations due to busy schedules and different practice areas. And it was almost impossible to run into each other at the company due to its vast size. The possibility, if you could guess, would be about five percent. If artists of the same company rarely saw each other, imagine how difficult it would be for artists from different companies to be companions or friends.

It was easier to become acquaintances to friends if two idol groups had overlapping comebacks. Music Bank, Show Champion, M! Countdown, etc. gave a lot of free time in between to hop over to different waiting rooms to converse with your colleagues. Your group was especially close with G-idle, showcasing false surprises every time your comebacks would be in the same time frame.

Your close friend, Soyeon, stands beside you, her right hand holding a red solo cup.

“So you never hang out with guys, and you haven’t fucked a guy since last year?”

“Nope, I don’t intend to tonight. And you know how hard it is to hang out with idols of the opposite gender. ”

Her hands soothingly rub against the sides of your arms. “No, no, no. I’m not having any of that tonight. When do we get a chance to roam free? No judgment, but this dry spell is getting out of hand.”

You scoff at your friend before continuing, “Unnie, these are basically our coworkers, I don’t know.”

She rolls her eyes at you before standing in front of you, face-to-face, “Oh come on, don’t be a buzzkill babe. So you’re telling me you don’t think anyone is attractive in this house full of hot people?”

Her question causes you to scan around the room and outside the backyard. Your eyes halt for a split second, but continue scanning around, pretending it never happened.

“Oh, I saw that,” she points at you. “There is a guy you wanna fuck!”

Throwing your arms down in a huff of disapproval, you’re about to give in to Soyeon’s frenzy. “Girl, could you be any fucking louder?”

“You better tell me now, I caught you bitch,” she playfully slaps your arm.

You bite your lip slightly, contemplating revealing who it is. Looking up at her, she’s staring at you with anticipation. Her eyes grow wider by the second and you’re not surprised when you’re giving into her puppy dog eyes.

Your hands fall on her shoulders as you close in on the space between the two of you. “Mark,” you whisper.

“Oh my god!”

You wince.

“I fucking knew it! I always thought you guys would look hot together.”

“What? You thought about this before?”

“Maybe. But that’s not the point. I swear I saw him eye you, and only you when you guys got here!” she’s already jumping and pushing you to the backyard before you can get another word out.

You try your fucking hardest to push back against her, but it’s no use. Her drunk ass is already overpowering you.

Mark is beside the pool playing with some of his members and others from different groups. Tossing the ping-pong, the millisecond has him hoping it can make it into the red cup charged with alcohol.

“Fuck,” his failure causes him to throw his head back.

“You fucking suck, I’m three cups from winning bitch!” Yeonjun yells from across the foldable table.

His success in the third remaining cup has him rejoicing, and he daps up his teammates.

“Now give the ball to Sunwoo. He’ll land it at the house next door,” Mark retorts.

“Aw, you’re about to lose, so you’re talking out of your ass.”

“You’re so drunk, you know that?” Mark laughs, ignoring his friends' behavior. He’s stepping away to let the following person use their turn.

He’s looking around at all the people at the house. This was the one night of the year he looked forward to. Just friends having fun and letting loose, no cameras, no one to judge or inspect his every move or facial expressions.

He spots you and Soyeon against the glass sliding doors. You look so fucking hot. Your top accentuated the curve of your waist so well, and he noticed the mini skirt on your body rides up a little more every time he steals a glance at you. The top you wore showed the perfect amount of cleavage and your perky breasts are on display for everyone to see. He wants to be the only one to see them fully. He wants to be the only one to see you naked in front of him.

Oh, how he would love to fuck you. He couldn’t help it. You look so delicious standing there, with your pouty lips and doe-like eyes. Your perfect body and silky hair.

To be honest, he noticed you at the company and could never work up the courage to start a conversation with you. News flash: this has literally never happened to him before. It was never difficult to speak confidently to anyone until you. His extroverted personality suddenly does a one-eighty whenever he contemplates approaching you.

You were just so beautiful. The type of beauty that seemed unattainable. The type of visual Mark would never approach because he concluded that there are already a million people at your feet.

He recalls the few times he passed you in the halls and you politely bowed. Or when your recording sessions would overlap slightly, and he would hear your voice in the studio. Or when he passed by you in those tight clothes that barely covered your body practicing with your group.

Mark couldn’t lie, you were the most attractive out of all of them. He personally thinks, no one could compare, but he has yet to discover what you’re really like. Not the personality you convey on-screen.

This only happens once a year. It was an opening for him to finally converse with you. The company, media, or fans wouldn’t have a clue about it. There would be no confession to them, the perfect chance to shoot his shot. The only thing holding him back would be rejection. At this point, the opportunity is too tempting to ignore as soon as he spots Soyeon pulling you outside the home.

This is so embarrassing.

You and Mark make eye contact as Soyeon drags you out the door. He doesn’t pretend to look away.

“Come on! Move!”

“No! Oh my god! Stop!”

Soyeon finally stops with the physical force, and you both stare at each other. Her eyes move from your eyes to his, another way of telling you to get on with it.

“Think about it, this is the one day of the year where you’ll really get the chance, and with no judgment. Or sneaking around,” she adds in the last part, hoping you would miss it. And you definitely didn’t.

She’s stern on her point, supporting it over and over again with more reasons. The persuasion is working, you think. And now, you’re seriously contemplating it. What’s the harm? Rejection? Embarrassment? You don’t even know if he wants you.

But maybe she’s right. You’ll most likely never run into him after today, and if you do, it probably won’t be until the same time next year.

“I don’t want to hear for months after today what could’ve been. You’ll spend so much time regretting it. I know you better than yourself,” Soyeon adds further.

Her words finally fuel your courage to make a move. “Okay, just give me a second to build some confidence, meditate, or something,” you’re shutting your eyes to soothe the nervousness away.

“Mhm, but maybe make it fast. Hot guy my twelve o’clock, coming your way. You’ll thank me later!” she quickly warns you as she pecks you on the cheek before making her way out of your line of sight.

There is no time for you to process what’s happening, or to prepare after she utters her last words.

Turning around, Mark is already directly in front of you, your eyes align with his chest and it takes all of you to meet his eyes.

“You don’t seem too happy to see me.”

He was so fine. You just wanted to stare at him. No matter how weird that sounded.

He’s scanning your entire form, taking a moment to drink in your appearance as you respond. “I don’t have any emotions towards you. We’ve never formally met.”

“Formally? Did we cross paths at a time I didn’t know about?” The ice clinks against the cup as Mark raises it to sip and his Adam's apple bobs in a thick swallow.

“I don’t know. Maybe you know the answer,” you’re habitually pulling your body towards him. The scent of his cologne laced with weed fills your nostrils and you already feel the warmth of his body radiating off him. You just can’t help it. You wanted him so badly, so badly that you didn’t second guess your obvious signals.

“You’re acting a little too dumb, saying words before thinking them through,” the false confidence is oozing from your voice as you speak. Okay. Maybe you’re drunk and you didn’t know it. If that’s the case, you won’t stop any time soon.

“What do you mean I’m acting dumb?” he follows his response with a chuckle at your assumption.

“You approached me as if we knew each other, then suddenly, you’ve never seen me before?”

“You’ve got it all wrong baby,” the pet name catches you off guard, but it rolls off his tongue like velvet. “We’ve never met, but I’ve noticed you.”

“Notice me? Elaborate,” you wanted to have him explain. Maybe he wanted you as much as you wanted him. You had to be sure. No embarrassment or rejection today, you exclaim to yourself. But you couldn’t jinx it.

“You’re the one I’ve been waiting to see tonight.”

“So you didn’t see me come in earlier?” your orbs follow your index and middle fingers as they walk up his chest. Your fingers stop finally looking at him straight in the eyes, “I call bullshit.”

“I did,” he glances at your hand on his chest before returning to you. “Just was waiting til’ I got you all to myself.”

‘Well… wish fulfilled… So, what is it that you hoped to see me for?”

He looks at you differently, and what you didn’t know was he’s contemplating saying the whole and honest truth or the version that wouldn’t scare your on-screen persona away. The innocent, dainty, girl that would break if you press too hard. But up until now, Mark only knew of that girl.

“Hey, Markie!” Yeonjun walks up from behind Mark, obviously drunk. He’s stumbling around, anchoring himself by putting a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “I see your buzyyys” he slurs while directing his attention to you.

“You’re really so so hot, Y/n. If yous torn Markie here, down, I’m alayz here,” his hooded eyes scream drunk. “Hyung, don’t put that away!” he yells to someone behind you.

You’re turning towards the home to find the person he’s addressing, but he’s suddenly stumbling past you, unintentionally pushing you backward.

You’re off-balanced and as you close your eyes to prepare for impact, it never comes, and you feel an arm wrap around your waist, preventing you from practically eating shit.

Mark's arms are around your waist, sending a scowl back at Yeonjun before directing his attention back to you.

"As I was saying.”

You gaze up at him, your chest now pressed against his.

“What I hope to see you for?”

“Go on.”

Mark doesn’t know what comes over him suddenly, but he’s thinking he should just rip it off like a bandaid because it’s all or nothing.

“Is to have me in between your legs, and you screaming my name.”

“I’d like to see you try,” your eyes move down to his lips. It was so tempting to just pounce on him right here, right now.

It was clear that you both wanted each other as much as the other did. The game you always played with men every so often got you what you wanted, but this time, with Mark, it was almost impossible to keep playing.

Mark doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, he takes his hand to move the hair sheathing your ear. You think he’s about to whisper something, but he begins kissing your neck, trailing down from your earlobe.

“Is that what you like to do? Test people?” his lips are against your ear and you’re caught off guard, doing everything in your power to hold back a moan.

“Yeah, that’s what I want,” you respond softly, eyes shut.

“Be careful what you wish for. It might come true,” he brings his face to yours, and your lips are practically two inches apart. The buzzing in your body doesn’t stop and you’re scolding yourself for wanting to give in so easily.

You notice him biting his lip, content with the effect he has on you.

You lick your lips, “And what if I want it to?”

“You’re all bark no bite baby.”

“If you want me to bite, I will.”

“I have yet to see otherwise,” he whispers against your ear, lip grazing your lobe. Mark doesn’t follow with another word but your impatience and the alcohol coursing through your veins forces you to make the decision.

You close the distance between you two, connecting your lips with his. It was so sudden, but he kisses you back almost immediately, squeezing your waist harder and the other hand instinctively goes to your cheek.

You forget about the world around you, and that people are basically watching you begin to make out with Mark in the middle of the backyard. But the built-up lust makes everyone disappear. You’re both in your own world, with no other thought in your consciousness.

You don’t know what Mark is thinking, but he’s in the same boat as you. He wanted you for so long, and now he finally has you. Following that thought, he doesn’t know what he did in his past life to deserve this, but he must have saved an entire country to be able to receive what he’s experiencing now.

You’re kissing more roughly now, your arms around his neck as he gropes your entire body. Your hands snake up into his hair, and you find yourself pulling his locks as it becomes more intense. When his hand snakes down to your ass, he squeezes, which earns a gasp from you.

Mark takes this opportunity to slip his tongue into yours. Your mouths fit each other perfectly, and you question if the other people you made out with in the past were real, because it has never felt this good before.

After a while, you’re pulling back, Mark struggling to pull himself away from you.

“Easy there,” your forehead is still against his, eyes on his lips.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he husks against your mouth.

Both of your chests are rising and falling at a rapid pace, not realizing you needed to catch your breaths.

“Upstairs, the second door, on your left,” the words roll off his tongue without hesitation.

You’re mutually agreeing, you, with a nod as you slowly part, and your fingers run off his, until the tip of the nail. It’s so hard to control yourself and act as if nothing had just happened.

Of course, people were looking. Some were whispering to each other, the others smirking, and finally, the one’s with a scowl on their faces as they watched each one walk away from the other.

You’re in the room sitting at the edge of the bed as you wait for Mark. You had just sat down and looked around the room. It’s clean and smells husky, but you can tell someone was staying here due to the small duffel bag and clothing scattered across the floor.

And you definitely couldn’t lie, you are so nervous. What would Mark be like in bed? Rough, dominant, gentle, or maybe submissive? It had been so long since you had sex, it felt as if you were a virgin all over again.

You’re amidst your own thoughts when you hear the click of the door. The door doesn’t open carefully, but it’s practically slammed open. Mark doesn’t look back as he closes the door behind him, not even stopping for a single second. The moment he sees you, he’s grabbing your face and smashes your lips against each other. It’s too fast, all of it happening in one motion.

You’re stumbling back until the back of your leg hits the edge of the bed, forcing you to sit back on it. But Mark’s lips don’t leave yours, following you and pushing you slowly until your back hits the mattress. His arms cage your body with his knee between your legs. You feel Mark grab behind the bend of your leg to wrap around his torso while your lips are still attached; Intertwining in perfect harmony.

The buzzing all around your body only seems to grow stronger as he becomes more aggressive. It was like he was so hungry that he couldn’t stop even if someone walked into the room right this instant. You couldn’t lie, it would probably turn you on more.

Mark couldn’t help it, you were just so insatiable, like a drug that he couldn’t get enough of. Like a drug, he could take over and over, without getting sick. He wanted all of you so badly, but only if you were willing to give yourself to him.

The more you dive deeper into Mark, the more he sucks you in, and the more you want him.

The makeout is unforgiving, animalistic almost. “So sweet,” he murmurs against your mouth. It feels too good to open your eyes to him. Your panties are already sticky and if this continues, you’d have to throw them away.

You’re biting your lip as Mark’s lips leave yours to trail kisses down your neck. He’s careful not to leave hickeys as he already knows that your makeup artists would be unforgiving.

But Mark continues to trace kisses down your body, pulling down your skirt and practically tearing off your underwear in one motion. He’s kissing all around except where you need him the most and it makes you whine.

“Tell me you want it,” this statement has you looking down and locking eyes with him.

“Mark, just get on with it.”

“Try again,” at that, he presses circles at your clit without a warning. It’s slow, the pad of his thumb easing over your bud. But it’s too slow, and you need more.

“Mark, Please. I want you,” you mewl, giving in to his demand. The one action already having you fall apart right under his fingertips. Before you know it, you’re instinctively moving your body closer to him, the eagerness exemplifying the level of want when you’re clenching around nothing.

“Yeah?” you don’t see it but the smirk he exudes at your greenlight is much more than subtle. “Don’t have a smart-ass comment now?”

Before you can retort, he’s diving head first, licking a stripe up your slit. It’s a satisfying feeling, a gasp threatening to spill from your lips as the feeling of arousal becomes stronger.

He’s continuing, knowing exactly how to turn you on, knowing exactly how to touch your body, and how to make your eyes roll back. His hands roughly push against the sides of your thigh to prevent you from moving out of place and the dim lights aren’t a hurdle as Mark finds your clit and gives it a sharp suck. It’s just the beginning as he continues slurping and sucking in all the right places, unforgiving as he gives you the best head of your life. Your eyes feel as if they're going to fall out of their sockets at the perfect pressure and pace.

“Fuuu-ck,” it’s stretched out, the same word combining with a previous moan that threatened to come out from the back of your throat.

“You’re so wet,” he rasps against your cunt. “So fucking messy.”

“Mark, don’t stop!”

What you didn’t know is Mark loved giving head. He didn’t need to receive anything in return. Knowing he made his partner cum turns him on beyond belief. Making you squirm and moan his name like a mantra has him instinctively rutting his crotch against the mattress.

You didn’t know he was this good. It’s as if you and he have done this a hundred times before. You’re absolutely drenched, your arousal mixed with his saliva drips down your core. But a mess was the last thing you and Mark worried about.

“Mark, I need more,” you squirm beneath him, your voice sounding already fucked out.

“Is that a demand?” he’s teasing, inserting only his middle finger while awaiting your obedience.

A small gasp leaves your lips before you utter a plea, “Holy shit, Mark, please.” You’re practically whining at this point while your temper and impatience becomes all too consuming.

“That’s better,” he adds his ring finger, adding to the fullness and earning another gasp from you.

“Damn. Thinking about your face when you cum is already making me so hard,” he groans against your cunt and continues to slowly grind his erection against the mattress with no embarrassment. You were already fucked out, but you could see him from your peripheral view, and if it wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, you don’t know what is.

Mark’s watching your expressions as he slowly pulls his fingers out before plunging them back in. He doesn’t let up as the slow motion suddenly speeds up, and he has you moaning and squirming underneath him.

He suddenly sucks on your clit in sync with the rhythm of his fingers and your eyes practically roll into your head. “Mark, Mark,” you shout as your thighs begin to quiver and you’re arching your back at the gratifying overstimulation.

"I-I’m gonna cum," your words are barely audible, mingled with gasps and groans, but Mark attentively listens, hearing every sound that emanates from you. He doesn't stop and keeps going in the same motions, only rougher and faster. It's not until he curls his fingers inside you that he finally reaches the sweet spot.

Your orgasm hits you all at once, tears threaten to spill down the sides of your face as the band in your lower abdomen inevitably snaps, and your entire body shakes. Mark sucks and slurps on your clit as if nothing happened, and you're virtually screaming. The obscene sounds fill the room and don't halt until you beg him to stop and he notices the cum gushing out of your body painting his fingers and dripping down your cunt.

“Fuck,” you’re spent, and it’s all solely from Mark’s tongue and fingers. You haven’t even seen his dick yet, and it already tops all the other people you’ve decided to waste your nights with.

“Done already?” The words are like butter, right before he licks another stripe up our sensitive core. “Well, I’m not done with you,” you quiver as he carefully drops the straps of your top, and then, brings the fabric over your head. Your senses seem to be on overdrive today, and you can’t get enough.

Mark's large hands glide from the inside to the outside of your thighs, merely to define the contour of your hips and waist, stopping to frame your breasts, and slowly begins circling your nipples, as if he read your thoughts. “Feel good?”

“Mhm,” the high from one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had begins to finally come down and you notice the lips that hover right above you. Before another thought, your arm hooks around his neck to pull him down onto your lips.

He welcomes the kiss, mouth moving languidly with yours. Both of your bodies melt into each other as the serene moment becomes all too comfortable. His hand continues to press circles on your nipple as the other gently rubs against your waist, eventually moving down to your inner thigh, in an attempt to soothe your spent body. The push and pull of your lips continues on for a few moments before it becomes faster. Mark bites down on your lower lip, but you whimper at the action because of the overwhelming sensitivity.

At your whimper, he lets go to lick over your bottom lip as an expression of remorse. You’re so overwhelmed, it's only now that you remember his very big problem. It’s poking at your hip, and he lets you know he notices your revelation by experimentally pressing his erection against your center. This causes you to lock eyes with him, another smirk adorning his perfect face.

Mark’s cockiness only instigates you to unhook the arm around his neck and move down to cup his erection. You don’t even look down, staring up at him as you palm him through his pants. “You just love playing games don’t you,” but the shaky exhale he withdraws notifies you of the facade.

“Only if you’re playing,” your hooded eyes and bottom lip trapped in between your teeth say much more. The seductiveness of your tone only pulls Mark closer to you, him getting lost in every single sense.

Mark decides at this very moment he's too impatient to withhold any longer. He's had enough. Enough of your doe eyes staring at him as if nothing else matters. Enough with the melodious responses that exit your pretty lips. Enough of the temptation that you are. He's willing to obey every demand, no matter the cost. He thinks that even though you two hardly know each other, it's as if you've done this a hundred times before.

He is already withdrawing from your body to remove his clothing in front of you. The warmth is missed, but now you’re just sitting there in awe, because what the fuck. The large t-shirt he always wore hid his delicious arms and oh so, thin waist. Mark’s towering over you and it’s difficult not to gawk at his figure. The boxers that hug his hips are pulled down, revealing his big cock. You knew it was more than average when feeling the imprint on his pants, but you almost drool at the sight in front of you.

“Like what you see?” he’s emitting the same look, with the corner of his lip tugging up in return for your reactions.

You don't say a thing, instead groaning at his languid movements, legs spread open, upper body propped up with your arms. You continue to watch as he puts his hand over his cock and gently strokes it. Mark bites his lower lip to keep a groan at bay after stroking a little quicker. Watching him fuck himself turned you on belief and it should be embarrassing but the sight was basically straight out of a porn video.

“Let me help you out,” patience was never your strong suit, and the ogling only lasts a few moments before you’re on all fours, inching to the edge of the bed where Mark stands. He lets you, removing his hand before you lick a long stripe up from the base of his cock, then slightly sucking the tip. A smile threatens to come about as Mark twitches at your action.

“Stop teasing before I fuck you senseless against the wall,” he huffs, throwing his head back. Mark was so close to just pulling you off and using you if you let him. You seemed to be taking your precious time, but he was slightly worried he would come embarrassingly fast if you were the one in control here. Anything you did, he seemed to fall apart so easily. Right into the palm of your hand.

The warning was one that seemed like a reward to you, but you regress, pushing him into your mouth in one motion. Immediately gagging, the tip hits the back of your throat fast. It barely fits inside your mouth, and you find yourself using your hand to make up for the remainder. “Shit, that’s it,” he groans at the vibration from your throat as his praise makes you moan, imagining his cock in your pussy later.

You can feel every ridge of his cock in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, sucking and moving back and forth. He was so big, and the more you took of him, the more sounds came from Mark. It only urged you on further, sucking and bobbing like your life depended on it.

You’re squeezing your thighs together to aid the ache as the sound of the glide of your tongue against his cock is the only thing filling the air in the bedroom. It seems to be the final straw when he uses his hand to twist your hair and pull you off his cock. “Fuck, enough. I’m gonna cum if you keep going.”

You use the back of your hand to wipe off the corners of your mouth before Mark guides you onto your back with his hand still wrapped around your hair, the same hand resting on the back of your head. He's hanging over you once more, and the warmth you longed for returns. Your legs are already spread open, wanting to cure the clenching of nothing in between your legs.

“Are you sure you want this?” he’s biting his lip as he politely runs the hand originally entangled in your hair to push away the ones in front of your face.

“Want you so bad,” your words combine with a whimper because he’s running his cock back and forth over your sensitive folds, collecting as much cum as possible.

He offers a polite smile before he pushes in. It’s slow, but Mark’s size was far from normal, at least, far from what you’re used to. You feel so full and you both gasp at the contact, a grunt coming from him. “Oh my fucking god,” you almost choke on your words, your mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as you adjust to his size. Mark grunts against your ear at your pussy swallowing his dick. If he were to die right now, this is what he guesses heaven would feel like.

“Fuck,” he tests the waters by grinding his hips against you, and it already has your back arching. “You’re so fucking tight,” his hands return to your waist, the arch of your back forced back onto the mattress. His hands are sure to leave bruises, but you couldn’t give a care in the world. Every single movement and drag of his cock against your walls is ecstasy, the delicious burn fueling the awaiting high. “You’re such a good girl. Taking me so well,” he murmurs.

“Mark, please move.”

“So needy,” he rolls his hips against you once more, while his pelvis is against you, “Your wish is my command,” before pulling back and diving back into your heat. “Oh,” a moan escapes your lips at the action. Your eyes are barely open, but those hooded eyes are focused on the Greek god in front of you. You stare at the strained muscles all along his back, his whole body flexing with every movement.

He’s repeating the same pull and push of his hips until there's a consistent pace, every stroke earning more sounds from you. The grip he has on you becomes tighter as he begins speeding up his thrusts.

You’re practically sobbing at the way Mark burrows his cock inside you, fucking you so that you can’t walk the next day. It’s so rough, breasts and body jolting with every movement, and you’re searching for stability by bringing your legs around his waist. You love it rough. Wanting him to use you, use you in any way he wanted. Mark suddenly pulls out almost completely before brutally hitting the spot inside you where you need him the most.

“H-holy shit, Mark.”

He’s so lost in the pleasure, the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and the feel of your pussy choking his cock like a vice makes it almost painful to hold back his moans. It’s an impossible task though, with you in front of him lost in pleasure, tits bouncing in front of his face with the pretty sounds coming from you. Mark is too close. Embarrassingly close. He wants to prolong this as long as possible because he can’t seem to ever get enough.

“You’re not the sweet, innocent girl everyone thinks you are, are you?” he spits and you’re too fucked out to decipher his words. “W-what,” your words combine with a moan because you yourself feel the forming of another orgasm in your lower abdomen and attempt to meet his thrusts halfway to reach euphoria. Tears are threatening to fall, makeup smeared, but you don’t give a care in the world as Mark continues.

“You act like an innocent school girl who’s gonna break if she receives one insult,” he scoffs. “But you’re not,” before he can finish his string of words, he’s pulling his cock out of you to turn you around onto your stomach. You yelp at the action before you feel his arm hook around your waist, bringing you up to your knees.

“You’re dirty, walking around in clothing that barely covers your body, so what? So you can get fucked?” you gasp as Mark plunges his cock back inside from behind, the new angle making you squirm. He has his lip caught between his teeth as he continues with the pace he exercised prior.

“Mark I-i’ll come,” you're dropping to your elbows after your arms give out. It seems as if Mark is in the same boat as you when his thrusts become faster and more aggressive; if that’s even possible. Your brain feels like a puddle of mush, the band threatening to snap again.

“You got what you wanted,” he leans down to hover against your ear with his chin against your nape, not stopping the addictive pace of his thrusts. “But you got it all wrong.”

“Mark d-don’t stop! Fuck!”

He brings his arm back below you and pinches your clit. "From now on, I'm the only one who gets to fuck you. Got it?" You're not sure if it's the hazy words that come out of his mouth or the way he explores your body, but you're at the point where you'll do anything to get to the goal given that your legs are shaking. You’re so close, and you want it so fucking bad.

“Yes! Fuck yes!”

“So good. Come for me, baby,” He rasps, unable to hide how fucked out he is. With a few more thrusts from Mark, the coil finally snaps and your entire body convulses underneath him. He keeps going even after this, pursuing his high and intensifying the orgasm. You're shaking and sobbing, and it's spreading throughout your body, beginning in your lower belly and progressing throughout. It’s consuming you completely, the addicting high turning your body into a mass of nothing. A moan threatens to escape from your throat, but to no avail, not a single sound comes about.

"Holy shit, so fucking tight," your pussy spasms around his cock, making it difficult for Mark to move, but it's enough for him to reach his, cum painting your walls as he rides out both of your peaks; Your cum and his mix together as it drips down your body.

You feel your entire body collapse back onto the mattress as you come down, and your consciousness battles with the idea of sleep as it wanders.

Not soon after, it finally gives in.

The intense rays of the sun through the drapes forces you awake, eyelids fluttering at the intrusion. You rub your eyes before opening them, and after a few moments, you realize that this isn't your room, and memories from the night before resurface. While twisting your body around to the opposing side, a small smile appears on your lips.

Mark is fast asleep beneath the sheets, his features serene. You simply want to continue watching him sleep with no expression on his face because he's simply, well, gorgeous. But you quickly second-guess yourself and determine that, yes, this is a little weird, therefore getting up to use the restroom to distract yourself was the best decision.

Before your feet can touch the cold floor, a hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back to your original position. Except, this time, Mark’s arms are wrapped around your entire figure, his chin resting against the crown of your head.

"Let's just stay like this for a little while," he declares, lids remaining closed.

You melt against him, with a small laugh pervading the room, and say, "Okay."

Soon after, you're both falling asleep once more, bodies entangled like they were the night before, but for a completely different reason.

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evilwizard · 5 months

Text

The Lich Who Stole Christmas

Every tumblrina in tumblr liked Christmas a lot.

But the lich, who lived just north of Tumblr, did not!

The lich hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Now, please don’t ask why. No one quite knows the reason. It could be his skull wasn’t screwed on quite right. It could be, perhaps, that his skin was too tight.

But I think that the likeliest reason of all… was his heart was encased by a strange lead-lined ball.

“Last year I made something that I thought in would usher

A new age of magic—my prized OrphanCrusher.

But my patents were stolen, and my sweet new invention

Is now being used… with good-ish intentions.

You see, Christmas wishes contain lots of magic;

And my device extracts it through methods so tragic

That I dare not mention them directly here

Though the name might clue in certain readers, I fear.

The Wizard Council, now that they possess this device,

Might use it, this year, to stamp out wizard vice.

Though the process might turn quite a few kids to carrion,

The Wiz Council’s ethics are utilitarian.

So what shall I do? What is to be done?

It seems rather clear that this Christmas can’t come.

But I’ve read a few books, and I know a few tricks

So this year I’ll steal Christmas, while dressed as Saint Nick!”

So the wizard of evil returned to his lair

Stitched a red suit, and did up his hair

Built a sleek sled—and—who among us,

Could hope for a much better Rudolph than Krongus?

They took to the skies, that next Christmas Eve,

And tailgated Santa, whom they hoped to deceive

At every house he left presents, they quickly descended,

And stole the decor and the gifts he’d intended.

And when the dark wizard’s sleigh was full-loaded with gifts,

He tugged at the reigns, and they made for The Rift!

A place where the veil between worlds was thin…

And a brilliant place to dump the gifts in!

“You see,” he told Krongus, as they approached that strange crack,

“Once something goes in, it can never come back!”

“Moreover, it’s perfect,” the wizard did sing,

“For The Rift destroys every part of that thing!”

“Every instance, every atom in all multiverses,

Will be undone as though by my special dark curses.

Not a gram, not a dust speck or mote shall remain,

And no one will even remember their name!”

“But sire,” muttered Krongus, “would it not be more precise,

If you simply put in the OrphanCrusher device?”

The evil wizard thought of this, parking his sleigh in the snow.

He’d made quite a trip, and this seemed quite a blow.

“I do have one here,” he told that weird devil.

“But destroying Christmas seems rather more evil!”

Then, far behind him, and the gifts he had pillaged,

He heard a small noise coming from Tumblr Village.

It was simply a song, of holiday spirit,

But the wizard was utterly shocked just to hear it.

“It came without ribbons! It came without tags!

It came without packages, boxes or bags!”

Then the lich thought of something he hadn’t before.

Could it be Christmas was some kind of contagion or spore?

What happened next? Well, in Tumblr, they say,

The lich’s dead heart exploded that day!

And the combustive force of that villainous blast,

Airlifted the sleigh, and brought it right back,

To the village, where Tumblrinas rejoiced!

Then continued to sing, and lift up their voice.

And back at the rift, the lich, with head in a spin,

At the edge of the rift dropped the OrphanCrusher in.

So Christmas was saved, by accident mostly,

Though performing a good deed turned the bad wizard ghostly.

“Come, Krongus—we must now return to my tower,

While I wait several months to return to full power.”

And at Wizard Council HQ, certain strategist seers,

Saw all this occur through the orbs that they peered.

They smiled, and high-fived, and struck up the band,

Pleased that these events had gone just as planned.

#evil poetry #long post #happy holidays <|:^)

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writella · 4 months

Text

Screwed Up and Brilliant

Synopsis: Negan is ready for you. Daryl isn’t; and maybe he’ll never be. Negan makes that clear to you tonight.

Details: Negan Smith x fem!reader, Daryl Dixon x fem!reader (mentioned), Negan is a bad guy but there is nuance— at least I hope I accomplished doing so, angst, guilt, forbidden love, probably super stereotypical, reader at the Sanctuary, moral dilemma reader (but you got to understand, they’re both so fine!!), I feel like I need more cws but I can’t think of them and of course, smut, 18+: consensual, unprotected, vague dacryphilia, soft? dom!Negan, lite daddy kink, fingerings, riding, and basically just Negan blowing your brains out… but not in the walker way— the good way, the way we like. Amen.

A/N: Could you believe I started writing this in October or something? This is my first time writing Negan and I’m scared I may not have gotten it right so definitely feel free to give notes! This is set during season 7/8, I’m picturing Negan at the end of 8 and later seasons but there’s something about him older that gives me heart eyes everywhere, but whatever you prefer makes me happy. Anyway, from my heart, and maybe somewhere a little lower, to yours; with love from writella. ♡

You’re screwed up and brilliant, look like a million-dollar man; so why is my heart broke?

—— LDR, Million Dollar Man

The space was clean; minimal. The kind that let out no secrets of the owner that inhabited its insides. And of course there were the little things that let out some slight details: the ashtray on the nightstand— a smoking habit; a ring, a metal chain, another of black rope— an unsuspected, albeit small, interest in jewelry; the bottom nightstand closed by a lock—mysterious and cautious, though that was to be expected. It was only reasonable he’d have something he wanted hide. But other than that, Negan’s bedroom was quite unreadable; almost purposefully mundane.

There was a fireplace, a window at the corner, and a bed at the center. It had a dark, brass, rusted headboard that leaned against the wall. Two pillows at either side. The sheets were white, and the large blanket was of fur, a tan or medium brown, it was thick and heavy. Probably unnecessary for the approaching spring heat, but it adored the bed end well; matching the other bronze, or brown, wooden and darker aspects of the room. Even the light from the small fire, though you could see clearly, made everything mildly dim— the Sanctuary wasn’t known for its brightness after all.

And truly, nothing in this bedroom, or in this fortress of a place could be described as anything close to bright. Unless you counted the sun outside in the courtyard, or the largest fireplace that blazed in the main hall, or Negan’s piercing, priceless smile— so pristinely white, so wide it almost looked painful to perform. There was an eeriness to it as well. That was at the forefront, and everyone saw it. With the way he maintained their cleanliness, it was something that could look so pure, so put-together on any other; but on him, its power could scare you into worthlessness. It’s the one he used when he told someone what to do even if they hated it; it’s the one he used when killing someone’s best friend.

It’s also the one he used on the first day he ever spoke to you. The first time that truly mattered, really.

It was during Negan’s first supply gathering at Alexandria.

You still remember it well.

Your faces filled with desolation, but chins held high; you were strong— good at hiding the pain, the fear— only straight, pokered eyes and mouths allowed as everyone silently agreed with you. You had told Negan that Maggie was dead.

The Widow, he had coined her. The wife of your good friend that he killed— so generous a man was Glenn, even when he wasn’t trying to be. And she’s your friend too, brave Maggie. That’s the one he wanted, but as far as he knew, she was gone.

Thank God, you thought, Thank God, yes, indeed, until—

Negan’s eyes glazed over your frame for just a moment too long.

You weren’t speaking anymore. You kept it short enough. He should have turned his attention back to Rick but he didn’t.

Where there was sly roguery in Negan’s eyes, anxiety weld in the looks of all others: Rick’s throat tensed and tightened uneasily, sweat trailing down his curls and onto his forehead; Rosita’s jaw clenched with bitterness, brows furrowing under her green khaki cap with anger; and then there was Gabriel: his eyes turned from solemnity and pretend peacefulness to wide bewilderment. The plan you two exchanged had worked: you would tell Negan of Maggie’s passing, as per your idea, and Gabriel would swiftly solidified your lie by saying he was the one who officiated the short funeral. But then, another problem arose; one where he could be nothing else but helpless in aiding you. What was he, or anyone to do? It was easy to help Maggie, she was more than twenty miles away. But you, you were here. Right in front of him.

“Wait a minute…” Negan’s pointer shakes lightly by his temple, his mind turning curiously. “You.” He said, shooting his finger in the direction of your chest.

His smile, mischievous as ever, only grew wider as a moment passed and he made his realization: “You’re the one with that- tight- grip!” He balled his raised hand into a fist as he said it. A slight snicker came after, proud of his entendre. “My men were tryna put Daryl in the trunk and you latched onto his foot like it was your dying- act- which—” you attempt to lessen the startle in your eyes at his upward hitch in tone, “—it most certainly could have been.”

Negan comes closer now, his face nearing your own, “But you know better now, right?”

Obviously, you did not.

Or you would have stayed home, not given him the chance to remember you as he said he would after your nails could no longer claw into Daryl’s ankle. He was thrashing too much and Negan’s men pushed you away; they were too strong together against the two of you. They kicked dirt in your face for it, held a gun to your head until Negan told them to stop. His point was made with your two friends he had killed, no need for another— especially not one who amused him like you had just done.

‘DAYUM. She is surprisingly strong!’ He had yelled, ignoring the weeping faces of you and the group kneeling in a line on the ground; sweat, blood, and tears dripping everywhere. ‘And I do like ‘em loyal…’ He had given you a once over while telling his men, ‘Hands off, gentlemen,’ and before returning his attention back to Rick, he added, ‘I’ll keep my eye on you.’

And he did.

You made an impression.

Now you’ll pay.

Rick should have told you why he wanted you to stay with Judith. He remembered what Negan said too. He remembered what Negan said to everyone. He couldn’t forget. But maybe it didn’t matter. It was only the start of Negan’s day here. Maybe he would have found you anyway.

Rick would feel it was all his fault nonetheless, but all you could think about is how truly, it was your own, and no one’s at all.

The sun allows glints of wickedness to sparkle in the whites of Negan’s teeth as he continues imparts his demand, “From now on, don’t stop me when I’m giving an order, okay?” It’s like you can hear him underlining his words just with his darkened voice. Turning his waist, he extends his hand to everyone as he finishes, “And that goes for all of you.”

You force your face to remain leveled as he meets your eyes again, that cheshire look returning directly toward you. He curls his head to the side, whispering near your profile, “So… you’re his girl, huh?”

Your mouth becomes slightly agape. You don’t even realize it before you can try to close it. He asked the question of aversion, or at least that’s what you assumed it was to Daryl.

You knew it was just his way, that speaking about things like this might have not been his strong suit. Besides, there were more things to worry about almost all the time, but it still hurt to know that when asked, the only complete and honest answer there could be was no.

Your eyes trail down slowly, desperate to avoid his, and Daryl’s face— a few feet away from you— turning to the side, looking at nothing. He could not hear what was being asked, but maybe Rick did, Rosita and Gabriel too. It was unclear, but their eyes prodded with more tension, more worry, Daryl could register that, and even more so, he could not stand Negan’s face that close to yours; he was probably trying to make an advance on you, scare you, or both. He pretends not to care, but ultimately it’s useless. Negan detects your expression and turns to look at Daryl’s; he notices both failing attempts at impassivity.

“Oh,” he muses, voice returning to its normal volume, “or not, my bad…. I guess that does make more sense though.” He speaks louder now, casually, like he’s a close friend consoling you about your boy troubles, “I personally haven’t been able to hold a conversation with the guy either, and I’m just tryna be friends.”

Daryl was right. Negan was weaseling his way in. He snarls because of it.

Only Dwight hears this and sends him a warning glare.

You feel the sweat beading from your hairline to the nape of your neck. The danger felt from Negan’s presence was as thick as the sun’s heat that shone directly on the cemetery grove. It’s hard to look up and especially to look at him directly for that long as if he truly was the fire in the sky, so you look down again.

Negan pats your shoulder sympathetically, his hand then going to hold up your chin, his thumb tracing your jaw softly.

It makes Daryl’s arms twitch and his stance jerks forward, but he’s pushed back, Dwight beating him on the chest. It’s only once but you can hear it, everyone heard it.

It only makes Negan’s grin become more sly because— there it is— a reaction; an answer. It makes what he’s about to do that much more sweet: “Fuck, darlin’. I’m sorry. Idiot,” he tisks. Then more quietly he adds, “I’m not one though.”

This time it’s for sure: Rick caught that, and Rosita too. They give each other an alarming look as Negan continues to trail over your dispirited form, like a wilted flower. His hand lowers back down to your shoulder, then trails to your arm, to the elbow, and then off of you entirely.

Despite the feeling of Lucille under his grasp telling him he shouldn’t, Rick urges himself to speak before Negan says what they all know is coming. “Negan,” he starts, swallowing the slight shake in his voice, “would you like to see the pantry—”

“Did I ask you to speak, Rick?” Negan states, his frame still positioned in front of you. “I’m thinkin’ here… I’m thinkin’… particularly, that you should come with me.”

Daryl makes a sound that you couldn’t hear, for Dwight was already barking a “Shut up,” at him. Only the swat he gives to Daryl’s shoulder is what is once again heard by all.

You almost choke on your gasp, but you hold it in. Only letting out the faintest sound as you ask, “What?”

“You heard me,” he plainly says. “I mean, what do you even do here anyway?”

You almost felt embarrassed to answer.

“No, I’m askin’. Seriously. Does Rick actually utilize you?”

As you begin, your voice is still quiet, “I… I work in the garden, with the produce… I help tutor the kids… I go on runs, gather supplies. I cook. Help with weapons maintenance, I—” you stop, realizing your grocery list of jobs probably sounds pathetic to him, you’re like a chore boy, “— I do a lot. But everyone does.”

“Hm,” Negan responds, playing with his nails nonchalantly. Your thoughts come to fruition with his next words, “So you’re just everyone’s helper?”

He noticed the sad offense emanating from your eyes, so he raised his hands, “And those are important things to do, I mean it. It must mean you know quite a bit from everyone, that’s smart, and there’s no trouble in it. But… I saw you. I think you can do more.”

“How?” You can still only gasp out your words. “I’m not Maggie. And she’s not here.”

“No.” He brings up one finger, “But you’re clever,” you look at him confused as he brings up his middle finger to join the first, “and quick on your feet, that I now know.” A third and fourth finger comes up, “You’re strong, you’re loyal— things I’ve stated before.” Then the fifth he says with a smug smile, “And you’re a looker, I must admit.” He moves his hand to one side of his mouth, pretending to secretly tell you, “But that’s just a plus,” he winks. “And more importantly, it seems to me that just like most people in Prick’s community, you are undervalued and not paid attention to whereas I see potential.” He says it all so simply, he truly believes he’s offering you so much better that he finally ends by saying: “Hm. Yeah. I think you’ll be much better off with me.”

And so, with no true goodbyes said, in a van you went after Negan’s visit was done. A different one from Daryl’s, of course. Taken away from the first home you had in ages.

Before the trunk door closed, Negan gave you parting words: “You see?” He had said, “I told you I’d remember you, didn’t I?”

The words rang in your ears for the entire ride as they still do now, even more or less than two months later as you sit in his room.

Your heartbeat started to rise little by little as time went on and he hadn’t arrived. With the window allowing you to escape into thought, you were left to think about the last couple of days, and specifically, the last time you were in here:

You were sitting with him on his bed. You had asked if you could talk about anything other than the world you two lived in now, and surprisingly, he obliged. It was nice. Sometime later, he had finally opened that locked drawer.

You heard him suck his teeth, what he was getting seemed lost, which allowed you to take a closer peek inside.

There was a picture of a woman. The first wife? The only real one? You couldn’t tell and you wouldn’t ask, it would have been too much. You didn’t even get a good look at the woman anyway— part of her face was covered and he was fast. But he saw your eyes, so you decided to take note of the books you caught a glimpse of, pretending it was the only thing you saw. You try to think of something to say… It did make sense he was a reader, at least even mildly if that was all it was. The way he describes his ideals, his persuasiveness, his diction— it impressed you, even if you disagreed with a lot of it. It was almost ironic that the only cover you saw was of a dictionary, the more valuable ones probably hidden under. “Is that where you get all your big boy words from?” You asked.

“Some of them,” he joked back, composing himself.

It was strange to almost catch him off guard. It was so unlike him to allow it, but what happened next felt even more surprising.

Whatever he got from the drawer was enclosed in his hand. He put the free one on top of the other as he started, “Now… I don’t want you thinking I’m growing soft on you. I just thought you deserve it because—” and then his voice fades. Even Negan, the ever curse-filled wordsmith, was finding it hard to describe in any other way that he was pleased with something as absurd as you not trying to escape anymore. He knew you would probably think that was the only reason for a gift, but then he opted for something that even you couldn’t help but know was equally true, “You don’t seem to proactively hate me anymore. You’re here. I appreciate it, so I wanted to,” he says sincerely. “That’s all.”

Negan opened his hand, resting the piece in your palm— it was a locket; lovely and rusted floral engravings all over it.

You felt sad that you thought it was beautiful, and even worse for knowing the reasons why he was giving it to you. No wonder his voice had faltered.

You remember the soft shock and awe on your face, how you said thank you and how your face felt so hot when you said it, how he asked you to turn, and how you looked at him from behind you after he put the piece on. He was so close and it felt like he was coming closer. You don’t remember if that part was real, but you can see it so clearly that it must have been. Unfortunately, the only thing you remember for certain is that knock at the door that sent Negan away to handle whatever was going on downstairs.

Had you almost let him kiss you? Would you have liked it? Are you the most deplorable person for even thinking that while Daryl was somewhere else locked up at the time?

“I see they delivered my message.”

You return from your daze, your startle leaving as soon as it comes.

It was just him. There Negan finally was.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to just come in. The door was unlocked.”

“I knew the meeting was gonna go longer than expected; thought you might as well make yourself comfortable.” He gestures to you, “which I see you did, and no—“ you were getting up from his bed, “it’s fine.” Negan sets Lucille near the door. He walks over to you, sitting down on the edge of his bed as well. There is a bit of distance between you two.

“You know, I came back the other day,” he informs, “I was actually going to talk to you last night, but then I heard you tried to leave. Again.” His eyebrows furrow, “We still on that?” He asks. “Thought we had a breakthrough the other night.”

“But after Carl—“

“—Carl,” he interjects, “came here all by his badass self, and for that, I did not lay even my pinky fuckin’ finger on him.” His hand goes to his chest, “I even took him home like a gentleman. And after I got here and found out they put you in a cell without supper, I had you back in your bed before midnight yesterday, so I’d say I’m doing pretty well.”

“Seriously?” Your incredulity is hidden under the softness of your voice as you say it, but it’s cracking.

“As a heart attack. It’s your ex-people who don’t listen. At least I was nice this time.”

You sigh heavily, docility officially fading. You shake your head with a slight chuckle, “That’s hard to believe. Especially if you were gone for most of the day. I know what that means. You had whatever the fuck your version of fun is.”

He grits his teeth, holding his words back. You’ve gotten a little too comfortable with the back talk, and you especially shouldn’t be saying anything after the night you had yesterday, but he allows it.

This time.

Of course, he didn’t like you leaving, but he rather that it was Daryl who escaped than you. And based on the bruises: one on the side of your head, one high on your shoulder— he imagines you might have gotten pushed against a wall— and the light ones that littered in a couple of spots on both your arms— he could tell his men must have been rough with you as they brought you back. He didn’t like that; therefore, he lets you quip. Someone would be getting their own bruises for it some time later anyway. He would take your smartass mouth out on them to cover for it.

“Maybe,” he finally says. “Nothing was undeserved though.”

You breathe in, the back and forth was no use. “What happened yesterday?” You asked, losing the sarcasm. Your eyes peered into his for honesty, hoping to skip the sly replies and get to the truth. “Just tell me what happened at home.”

Home. You knew better than to use that word. In fact, you have just stopped using that word. He let out an exasperated laugh, but skipped the lecture. “You want the truth? Or just the SparkNotes?”

You roll your eyes lightly. You probably don’t even notice you did it. Despite the situation being discussed, it makes Negan’s head turn endearingly— your tone of voice, the things you say, the way you react to him… you still don’t realize how fresh you’ve gotten with him, how comfortable. But he sees it.

“Alright. Well, Spencer’s gone.” He reveals offhandedly, replying to your silence.

Your eyes do not widen, you know what gone means. You simply nod and try to not think about how the now-cleaned bat most likely looked before.

“And don’t tell me that you care,” he says, pretending to interject to your continuing silence. “You gotta know he was a small dick nepo-prick, right?”

You bite the inside of your lip, shaking your head slightly. You won’t give in to a cheap joke even if it was pretty accurate, so he beckons you by name, “C’mon, that was funny.”

Still, you give him nothing.

He sighs; taking off his leather; and sits near you on the bed, his hands cupping the ledge. “Thought we were finally over this quiet thing.”

“A lot has happened this week.”

“Like…” he prodes. He would only talk about it if you brought it up.

Your eyes shut tightly before opening again. You didn’t want to say it, but you had to. “You know what. Daryl.”

He states the fact plainly, “Daryl left you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Your voice is fierce now. You can’t believe it. You won’t. “He’s not that kind of person and this isn’t an easy place to get out of— I obviously know that— he wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I know,” he jeers, “but he did and he didn’t bring you with him. Even though you were found trying to find his cell. That’s some real idiotic bullshit right there, isn’t it? From both of you.”

You glared at him hotly, you wouldn’t give it up, but unfortunately you had no rebuttal. Both of you would just continue on with the same argument, the conversation going nowhere. And not because either side knew they were completely right; in truth, neither of you actually knew what happened the other day. But in this regard, you felt there was no other choice: you believed in Daryl fully.

Because he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

Right?

You continue shaking your head, trying to find something to say in retaliation as you feel your sureness withering. Separating you two was the smartest tactic. You now have nothing to hold onto. “He wouldn’t,” you repeat pathetically, “I don’t believe you.” Unfortunately it’s not quite enough, so he continues with a rant you know all too well.

“You don’t believe me?” He cups the ends of the bed more tightly, positioning himself closer to you. “When I’m the one who gave you the safest roof? Secure food, clean water, access to all these pretty dresses, which, I know you’ve become accustomed to—” and here it comes— “I saved you!”

Saviors and their “saving,” you sneered at it. What bullshit. “You didn’t save me.”

“But I gave you someone to talk to… Huh?” He taunts, waiting for your response but nothing comes. He uses it to his advantage, “You’re quiet cause you know it’s true.”

But you know something too. He says it before you can.

“Or fuck, maybe I just gave myself someone to talk to.”

You pretend you can’t hear the earnesty in it. “Stop,” you scoff. “Don’t treat me like I’m special. I was the second choice.”

“I think with my dick sometimes. You’re the only choice.”

You start to shake your head, your face is flushed; scared, hot, and a little bit of something else that you refuse to let out. Then the tears come— the room feels so big and you two are so close and there are so many feelings you’re trying to push down. “It doesn’t matter,” you say wearily, “You took me. And you took him. You hurt him, I saw his face.” Your voice begins to tremble, almost in unison with the tears that peak out on your eyelids. “And that outfit you put him in. He didn’t even look me in the eye.”

“Stop,” he warns.

“You didn’t even let me see him.”

“He doesn’t notice you.”

“You don’t know us.”

“I know you.”

“You don’t know him.”

“I know you’re not happy… What about the other night?”

You ignore him, shaking your head: “You hurt my friends.”

“What about the other night?” He persists, his voice slowly growing louder. “What about every time I let you sit in on my meetings? What about how you have your own room? What about how I actually talk to you?”

“You let him get hurt—” the tears start to fall, there is a quiver in your voice but you still match his near shout, “And you almost killed Carl—”

“Shut up.”

“And you killed Abraham—”

He warns you by name.

“And Glenn! Maggie’s husband—”

“SHUT. UP.”

“The baby won’t have a father, Negan!”

His voice is low and grim as he demands you to “Stop. Now.” Negan grabs the sides of your neck as he says his next line, it comes out brisk and harsh and heavy like his touch as his hand wraps around your neck. “I knew you lied to me.”

Your voice is hushed, feeling his lightly pressed thumbs on the front of your throat as you speak shakily, “I’ve never lied to you.”

“Maybe not since you’ve been here, but did you hear yourself right now?” He pauses, allowing you a second to let it sink in. “You just fucking proved it.”

Your eyes widen at the realization. The baby, you had said. Fuck.

“See? Told you, you were smart.”

And he did. Brave Maggie. Clever you. That was his reason number one.

“You have to get why.”

His voice remains eerily calm. “I do.”

Another tear falls and his thumb presses its pad under your eye, spreading a tear on your face as the next one comes down.

“Negan…” you say. It’s a mix of a warning and a plea but you can’t tell for what, both fear and fire mix together because of his proximity. His touch and stare was dangerous, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was pleased he caught your slip up, thrilled to see you cry, but there was also something about it— his touch, his eyes— that was equally intoxicating. There was something more tender there as well, something you didn’t want to turn away from, he wasn’t as rough as you thought. Nonetheless, your answer to these conflicting feelings are ones of neglect, you stay your course. “You’re a bad person,” you tell him.

“Please,” he whispers back, “just stop.”

His eyes glaze over your features with an intent look you’ve only seen once before, it was that other night in fact. It’s almost gentle, but maybe it’s just pity, so you don’t let it stop you. “But you are.”

“Stop,” he pleads, then it’s hushed, “just stop…” he says, “just stop.” Then he starts coming closer. “Tell me to stop.”

And you know you should get up.

You should, you should, you should, you know it but— you don’t.

You breathe into it.

His lips latch onto yours; your heads tilt; you lock perfectly.

Everything after happens fast, the instantaneous mess of it all: he waited and waited, and of course he would. He was waiting for you to see it, to feel it. He thought the other night was the breakthrough, but no, it was tonight, it was how you didn’t back away just now.

His hand goes lower on your leg, nearing your knees so he can get under your dress, trailing up your thigh, reaching the inner side that’s pressed up to the other one.

His hand on your neck brings you in closer, traveling up to under your chin and jaw, holding you so tight, but so sweetly. All you felt was surprise. He slips his tongue in, it's deep and intense. He brings a velvet warmth that you’d never expect from him. It was paradoxical; a fiery heaven of a feeling.

He starts rubbing your clit over your panties, kissing his way up to your ear as he does so to ask, “When’s the last time someone’s fucked you?”

Your lips are parted, but you cannot speak, so he continues.

“Daryl never did, did he?” He asks in a muffle, continuing to kiss and kiss. “Who was before him?”

Again, no verbal response, but your breath does hitch at his touches. He continues to draw circles, your wetness now slowly dampening the material, making it easier for his finger to place itself between your folds, so he dips his hand under the band. That and his whispering makes you feel a kind of spark that shoots all the way down to where his fingers are touching. The first press of his thumb without any material in between forces a sudden heat to rise that instantly causes a flush of liquid to slip down your hole, it feels messier than it actually is until his fingers go lower spreading it everywhere. You were much wetter than you thought, and you can’t help how good it feels, how easily you’re responding to it.

Negan calls your name, holding in every cocky reply he wanted to give about how wet you are— he needed an answer to his question first. So he looks you in the face, making sure he has your full attention, “You’re fuckin’ with me, right?” His words are meant more genuinely than his tone implies. “Not at all during any of this?”

You shake your head small and slowly. No.

He laughs pitifully, he doesn’t mean it rudely, but he just can’t help it. A touch-starved baby at the mercy of his fingertips? “Well, god-damn.”

He felt like a rich man.

He begins to kiss your lips again, now pumping his fingers into you. Your walls tighten. It’s only two, but they’re his. It’s new and exciting. His kiss makes you lean into the bed, the force of his head and tongue going deeper into your mouth guiding you to lay flat as his fingers still play.

“I hope you know how fucking soaked you are,” he finally says. “You need it so bad that it feels this damn good with me only touching you like this?” You can’t help the way your body jerks up and he can’t help but be smug about it. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Your eyes grow vicious at his grin, you almost want to hit him, but you can’t. All you can do is suppress your moan into a quiet whine. He’s so magnetic— his touch feels forbidden but so right; his voice so alluring; and his midas touch pulls you deeper and deeper into a trance, you might as well be turning into gold. Other than the involuntary reactions your body makes as his fingers continue going into your hole, now slowly going in and out as his eye gloss over your body in your favorite dress that you wore the most, you’re left paralyzed; subjected to following his lead. Wherever he wanted to go next, you’d let him.

He takes his fingers from inside of you and you look up quickly. You made sure not to whine at the loss of contact but your eyes couldn’t hide your dismay. All he did was smile and quickly lick away the wetness.

“Just takin’ this off,” he tells you as his hands cross over to the ends of his white t-shirt, slipping it off and onto the ground, one of those small rope chains hitting his chin as he does so.

It was only his shirt but you’re struck by him: to see more of his ever present sun-kissed skin felt almost godly. He was pretty lean, not too lanky like his stature, but not too broad either. Light curves of muscles adorned his chest and shoulders and arms. His chest and abdomen were slightly hairy, a tattoo placed on the upper right side and you finally saw the other tattoos placed on his upper arms more clearly. They looked nice on him. He was so handsome. You felt more wetness peeking out from down below. He looked so big above you.

“Like what you see, beautiful?” That typical snark still laced his voice, but there was a genuinity to it as well. He wanted you to like what you saw; to like him.

His words make your face hot, eyes casting off to the side. It was easier to talk to him when you were mad at him, when it was about home, even just small talk about the Sanctuary; this felt… different. Just like the other night.

You had almost already forgotten that his charm worked this way too; in a kinder way— when his eyes are wide, when his smile is soft, when he calls you sweet names without the irreverent, quip-filled pretenses.

It made you have all the words on the tip your tongue: how handsome and sexy you could say he is, how much you liked his tattoos, even all the greys that littered his hair and beard l, or how, if you had to admit it, you liked that dumb shit-eating grin of his, but all you can do is lightly smile, a quiet laugh escaping your lips at your bashfulness. You finally nod. “Yes,” you say, rolling your eyes, “maybe.”

He starts undoing his belt with a laugh of his own, “Oh I know you’re a fuckin liar if you think I’m a maybe.”

As his pants drop to the floor he takes each hand and places them over your shoulders on the bed to ask, “May I take off the lady’s dress?”

Your eyes widened, your open mouth only letting out a sweet, surprised, and whispered, “Huh?”

“What? Didn’t expect me to be a gentleman?”

You try to compose yourself, calm the fire you feel all throughout your body, and pretend you haven’t already given in completely right when he kissed you. “I just didn’t expect it would be all this slow.”

He laughs inwardly, glad to see the personality he came to know come back after all that happened these past two days. “Just give me a moment,” he jokes back. “You think I’m gonna waste seeing the reaction of you watching my cock spring out just so I can shove it in fast? ” He comes closer, his voice lowers now, “Believe it or not, I don’t think you’re just some doll or a fuck-piece.” The groundedness of his voice is something you’ve never heard before. “I’m pretty sure I’ve already stated that I see you. And truly, I think you’re damn gorgeous.”

Your eyes are stars. How can you even react? He thinks you’re gorgeous and you’re taken aback. “Thank you,” is all you can quietly say.

“You’re welcome.” He responds with eyes that have never looked so honest, so soft. You get lost in them and he has to pull you back, returning to his question, “May I?”

You nod, quick and excitedly, “You can take it off, Negan.”

He grabs your hands and stands you up. You look up at his face and his fingers move to the ends of your dress, pulling it over your head.

The tips of his fingers trace your chest and stomach lightly, delicately touching your skin as if it’s porcelain. He grabs your waist and travels up to take off your bra, then pushes down your wet underwear.

Negan’s cock stirs at the sight, you’re so pretty and so ready for him. “And I didn’t even need to see it to know I was right.” Just like he said, you’re gorgeous.

Negan pushes down his boxers. Cock springing up. Big and veiny with a red tip. He was itching to get inside of you.

And there you were, eyes and mouth open wide, scared and excited all at once. You were intimidated but surprisingly not scared if it would fit or not. You would let him do anything to get himself inside of you, even if it hurt.

“There it is,” he says, pleased with your reaction. He comes closer to your ear now, pushing you down by the hips against the bed once more. “And trust me, if you like that, you won’t fucking believe how I’ll feel inside of you. Just wait.”

“I…” He wanted to make you feel good, you’re almost speechless. “I’m ready.”

“Good.” He says, and then he places himself above you, admiring your glistening folds as he spreads your legs. He already lines himself up, he could look at you forever but he is in no desire to wait any longer. He pushes in. It’s a bit fast, a tight fit, it must have hurt you, but he’s too excited, he can’t help it. He lets out a hum and then a groan at the feeling of your walls enclosing him, and he hears you gasp at his size. He starts to pump into you immediately.

His face hovers over yours. His eyes study your features and he realizes he’s never been this close. Of course he hasn’t, he’s never fucked you, made love to you. He’s just now noticing the way your eyelashes curl, what birthmarks adorn your upper body or not, and how many earrings you may have, but most importantly, he’s noticing the way you react to him: the way your eyebrows might scrunch, or what elicits more pants and squirmings, the way your lips tug tightly against each other or open into ovals and circles depending on what he does, how he thrusts, where he touches, how he moves.

It all makes him slowly speed up. He can’t take it anymore. He kisses your neck and jaw— some kisses sweet, then others that are rough and he begins to pump and pump. Faster and faster.

“Oh,” you choke out before moaning, “ah.”

He continues, loving every facial expression you make until he finally speaks. “Alright. I gave you a break— now tell me how it feels?”

All you can do is whine incoherently.

“Excuse me?” He says more sternly. You know what he wants.

“Negan,” you whine again.

He stops. “Yes?” He asks all too knowingly. “Gonna use your words and tell me how it feels?”

You sigh, taking the hand placed on your hip and moving up toward the ends of your stomach, all the way up to your left breast. You let his hand rest there, feeling the heat and your quickened heartbeat radiating from the area. “You… you feel so good.” Your eyes are watery, “Amazing.”

You got him there, and he almost can’t help but start hammering it in, but then he remembers… he doesn’t have to help it. He could do whatever he wanted, so he does. He squeezes your breast, grinning wildly as he gives you one hard thrust. “Damn right,” he tells you, hearing your yelp before pounding fast.

You had always been quiet but he never quite saw you at a loss for words as you are now. Your mouth is completely open, your eyes threatening to roll back further, making sounds he’s sure you’ve never heard from yourself before. Have you even had it this fast? This big? This great? He knows it couldn’t be. And he’s the one who gets to show you. His eyes gloss over you with pride at the thought.

He grabs your chin to get you to look at him, “Who’s fucking you this good?”

You moan. You weren’t used to this. Your eyes roll back completely as he pounds into you with eye contact.

It makes him groan loudly, his jerks into you, letting out his own moan from the sight. “Oh fuck, baby. Don’t play with me.”

You give in, force yourself to speak, you can’t let this end. “You, Negan!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes!” It’s so hard to speak, it comes out so pathetically.

“Who's making you feel like no one else?”

“You, Negan, it’s you!” Your moan turns into a pant, “It’s you, only you.”

He comes closer, his nose touches yours. His movements slow, but they don’t stop. He’s rocking into you now. “Only me?”

You don’t even think, “Who else? It's only you.”

His teeth sparkle, “Only me.”

“Only you, daddy.”

He laughs cockily, “So Daddy’s making you feel this good?”

“Yes, daddy. So good.”

You feel the groan he makes travel right to your clit, making it throb.

He kisses you, the corners of your lips to your cheek and neck and collarbones and back up again.

He restarts his pumping into you but his head remains close to yours. You decide to wrap one of your arms around his neck, pulling his hair, and the other hand travels down his back, holding him close.

Negan breathes you in, his head near the crux of your neck, hearing every little sweet sound you make that he’s never heard before. It all drives him wild, but then his eyes open. A question comes out that surprises you both: “Am I ruining your life right now?” He quietly asks.

“That doesn’t matter,” you say, breathing heavily from his touches, your eyes are still closed.

“I think it does.”

“You make me feel like no one ever has…” The bliss you feel from his current soft strokes and touches making it hard to speak, your voice is so light. “At least I got to experience it.” You open your eyes now, fingers tracing the cross drawn into his arm, “At least I got to see the real you.”

Your eyes say more than your words do. There’s a yearning and a sadness, an answer to what feels right in this moment, but an insight that there are doubts that could creep up later the more that you think about it.

“Just keep going,” you tell him, “I want to see you.”

You want to see him, you do see him. His head connects with yours again, and you moan into each other's mouths as he keeps pumping. Your legs come up to his hips and you’re not afraid to be loud anymore, to tell him how good it feels, how much you like him.

He takes your hands and places them over your head, crossing his fingers with your. It’s so pure, so lovely even when he’s going so hard down below. You hear your breaths heavy and your bodies slapping and the bed shaking.

You think about his skin, and his scratchy beard against yours, and the way you hate how he can make you smile by making the most ridiculous and raunchy jokes, and the way you love his voice, the way you can’t help but to like the way he cares for you.

“Negan,” you say weakly.

“Yes,” he responds intently.

“I’m gonna come,” you tell him. “I think I can.”

“Come for me,” he encourages, moving one of his hands down to rub your clit. “C’mon.”

“I’m gonna come,” you repeat, edging yourself on. Bucking up at his thrusts and his fingers.

“You can do it. Be a good girl. Do it for me.”

You swear the fireplace blazes louder and bigger, lighting up the whole room as you yell out, moaning once more as you orgasm.

Negan finally breaths out after, holding in for so long, and comes after you. His hands place themselves flat on the bed and he pushes in fast, riding out the high.

He scoops you up immediately, holding you in his arms. He doesn’t want to let go.

You two stay there for a moment until you look up. His hand caresses your face, “What is it?”

“I…” you were embarrassed to admit that you weren’t ready for it to all be over yet. “Can I ride you?”

A wiley smile appears on his face. He has to admit, he’s a little shocked you’re ready to go again, but he’d never turn it down. “Well, of course you can, babygirl.”

He flips you over, completely ready, but instantly, you become hesitant, almost overwhelmed. He was the world, not you, yet you were now above him. All the allowance to touch him anywhere you want at your disposal.

He puts his hands under his head, arms flexing. An ever wide smile present as he waits for you to begin. “You asked for it. Don’t get shy on me now.”

Your eyes grow excited again, deciding not to hold back, and you start to rock against him. You place you hands on his chest, feeling him up, touching his biceps, hands going over his tattoos— you could stare at them, at him, for hours. You honestly think you’d lick his whole body if he’d let you. And of course he probably would. To feel big and proud and irresistible while you look like a little desperate freak? You wouldn’t even have to ask him twice. Thinking about it and about how full his cock is making you feel, stretching and reaching all the right places, makes you moan and whine. You bucked your hips wildly, humming and giving him “mmms” because of how yummy it feels. You could do this forever.

“Ah- uh- Negan,” you moan and your stomach caves as you whine again and you hurl forward, continuing to rock but your pace is faltering. It’s becoming too hard and Negan can tell so he takes you by the hips, helping you move. First continuing to let your grind and then pushing you up and down his shaft so you can bounce on him. You push yourself up again, hand on his chest, pushing against it and you bounce along with his help. This was fun. You try to go faster and faster. It felt like being a kid on a playground.

“Open your eyes,” he demands. “Look at who you’re fucking, sweetheart.”

So you do, and moan at the sight of him, “Ohmygod,” you say. “You’re so handsome, Negan.”

He's so proud of you. Enjoying your actions, enjoying your noises. He groans as he sees your breast bounce and it makes you squeeze against him.

“Good girl,” he coos, “finally listening when you’re spoken to, about to make yourself come on daddy’s cock again.”

He starts to rub your clit again and you continue to bounce. It almost hurts because of how overstimulated you’ve become but you don’t tell him to stop. Your hands come to reach the headboard, helping you bounce harder. He tells you again how much of a good girl you are, how he loves that you’re not stopping, then he tells you how dirty and desperate you are for wanting him again after he already made you come. But he’s obsessed. This is all he’s ever wanted since the day he brought you here. His hands trail up from your hips to your waist and breast and back down again. There is nothing more he wants than to fuck you or for you fuck him.

You look down. You both notice your necklace still wrapped around your neck, almost nearing between your breasts, bouncing along with all of you. It reminds you of why you're here, why he gave it to you. It makes you have the realization he had… Was he ruining your life? Were you ruining your own? But how could you be when it all feels this good? It was completely screwed up, but everything felt so magnificently brilliant. His touch is everything, his voice is everything, his body is everything. It makes your hips stutter, it makes you moan, and at last, it makes you come again. You ride your high, going and going and going until you fall into his chest. His hands come to hold you tight thereafter.

Unthinkable bliss is all that is felt for a long moment… then… your head turns to the window. You remember what is out there and what isn’t in here.

A tear falls down your cheek and he realizes what’s happening when it falls onto his shoulder.

It hurts him now. To see you cry. It’s not fun anymore. You feel it, yes. You see what he saw, it’s true. But you aren’t really his wife. You’re nothing that is his at all. You both know that as well.

It takes you a long time to speak, you have to force yourself, but you do. “You have to let me go now.” You say it sternly but there is a sadness to it; a small part of you wants to not mean it even though you completely do, even though you do wish to stay here, to be enveloped by his embrace— you simply cannot forget.

“Mm,” he shakes his head, remaining leveled, “you know too much.”

“I barely know anything,” you say. “And not that anything I do know matters. Knowing the way around the Sanctuary isn’t going to help anyone when I know there is no way we could actually get in…. And what’s more important anyway is that I’m not changing my mind and you’re not either.”

“I’m not.”

“And I can’t. I wouldn’t. And they’re not going to. Never…. And if some of them die…” A whimper almost leaves you but you manage to swallow it, “I have to be by their side, Negan. I can’t only hear about it. I… I can’t see it next to you.”

His lips are pressed firm, his jaw is fixed and tight, almost like he’s grinding down on his teeth. The breath he takes through his nose could be a heavy sigh if he opened his mouth, but he doesn’t. He keeps it all in.

You words and their weight hang in the air for a moment before he finally speaks: “One of my guys that watches the armory doors has a shift that ends at 6:00 am… but at 5:50 I’m going to come up to him and tell him he gets off 10 minutes early that day, that I’ll wait for the next person to come.” He lets his words hang in the air for a moment, your confusion spirals before he keeps going. “It’ll be fucking weird, but he’ll look dumb as shit if he questions me, so he won’t. Then when he’s out of sight, I’ll leave. The next person is coming right at 6. That’s all you get. 10 minutes. A little less really.”

Your eyes round slowly as the stun continues to sink in. He’s… letting you leave.

“You take one gun and one knife. Just one. Don’t make it noticeable. I’m going to check. Then you go out of the back door that’s inside.” He didn’t have to tell you the way. “It should be easy, I know you’ve tried it before.”

You look down, taking in all he says, but then he turns you face to meet his, “If anyone sees you, I’m gonna have to make a show of it when they bring you back. Not what I want. But if I get there before you get out, maybe 5:58, just cause I’m an asshole, just to see you one last time… And if I do, I’m gonna turn you around and you’re stayin’. Fair?”

You nod. It’s small and light. You don’t question any of it, you can’t. “8 minutes.” You respond.

“8 minutes.” His voice is neutral, but underneath there was a tinge of solemnity to it. “8 minutes,” he says under his breath.

“What about now?”

“Now?” He asks. He didn’t think about it. He assumed you would want to go after this, after you got what you wanted. “Well,” he turns to his nightstand, “right now it’s nearing midnight.” He stares at you for a moment, you can’t tell what he’s thinking. This whole moment has felt so quiet, both eerie and gentle. You still weren’t used to the latter from him, even after what just happened. “You can go if you want. Sleep in your bed for one more night, or…” he stops, “You can stay with me, if you’d like.” His sigh is short and whispered but you both hear it, you feel its weight. “It’s your choice.”

You stare at each other for a moment. Your eyes trail all of his face and the arm that is still holding your own, adorned with all the tattoos and skin you had just fallen for. You wanted to study them and hold onto him forever. And his eyes: they said so much— there were so many little inflections, ones that you had finally read, and so many others you’ve yet to decipher. You desired to know him, but you had to go, so all you decided to do was to hold him. For now, you chose to stay, and hoped that your embrace would transfer the fact that the only reason it would be hard to leave is because of him and only him. You would remember this forever.

“8 hours till 8.”

“8 hours till 8, kid.”

You close your eyes tight and nuzzle into his chest, A peace you had never known in the Sanctuary finally subsumed you. You feel free to finally tell him, “Thank you. I miss home.”

Home. There it is again. There was no malice in the way you said it, but there was still a pang from your melancholy words that made his heart throb. You missed home. And as peaceful as you looked, and as safely as you held onto him, your words reaffirmed that home was not here and it was not with him, no matter how you looked, and no matter the fact that you were allowing him to hold you for the night, to call you his. In the end, you were not.

He had to finally accept it.

“8 hours till 8,” are your last words until you finally drift to sleep. This would be your last and most tranquil night here. To you, it felt right, almost harmonious, albeit sad. This is how it was how it was meant to be. You needed it.

But to him, it’s shattering. He doesn’t repeat the phrase back this time. For once he has nothing to say. The fire glow of the night has now withered into darkness.

You won. He lost.

But both your hearts broke.

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djarincore · 1 month

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A Bard's Tale

SUMMARY: When you proposition Halsin at the Grove party, you're almost shocked he agrees. Now, if only you could sneak away from your companions... WC: 3.9k

PAIRING: Halsin x f!reader

TAGS: 18+ MDNI, smut, bard!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected PIV

A/N: just some filthy smut Gale, my beloved, look away inspired by a book in the game and my head canon that the gang has a bookclub <3 banner by @/cafekitsune

You were used to being stared at—such was life as a performing bard—but never with so much… desire.

A numbing warmth blossomed across your neck and crept toward your cheeks, hairs stood on end. You knew exactly whose gaze fell over your body and tried pushing down a sudden shiver with a gulp of wine. The nearly stale flavor washed down your throat but didn’t take away the buzzing feeling deep in your gut.

Fireworks colored the sky above in a pop of brilliant glittering lights. Gale and Rolan were locked in a battle of wizard hubris over who could conjure up the bigger and brighter show for the crowd of awestruck children. You were certain if the show got any bigger or brighter, you’d have to be putting out fires and patching up burns by the end of the night.

“He’s staring again,” Astarion groaned, lips pulling up into a sneer and revealing the edge of razor-sharp fangs. His red glare fell over the edge of his silver goblet as he took a sip of cheap wine.

You dared to follow his gaze toward the large elf standing across the clearing, surrounded by rowdy celebrating tieflings. The two of you locked eyes—firelight danced over warm hazel eyes.

Halsin sent you a brief grin as if he hadn’t been caught staring, before returning to his conversation with the tiefling, Zevlor, in front of him.

When your party first learned the Archdruid Halsin had been taken by a bunch of goblins, you figured the man you’d find would be ancient, withering, and most of all, not attractive. Lo and behold, your party was in for a big surprise after freeing a helpless bear that shifted into a towering, broad elf before your eyes.

It was the talk of camp for the next few days as you cleared out the goblin camp. It was clear all of your companions held some interest in the druid, whether out of curiosity or… lust.

Tonight, you’ve been working up the courage to speak with him, drinking yourself dizzy with your companions and hoping it would give you the strength to approach him. You’ve flirted and had quick meaningless dalliances with faceless people who didn’t matter the next morning, but something made you nervous when it came to Halsin. He was wiser and more mature than anyone you've known in your short life.

“Gods, he looks like he wants to devour you.”

You quickly returned your gaze to Astarion, a quick retort forming on your lips. You snorted, “And you don’t?”

You allowed the vampire to indulge in your blood every once in a while but never took him up on his other advances as much as he offered. You never felt quite comfortable looking into the empty red stare that came along with those offers. Simple banter every once in a while didn’t hurt though.

“If you’d like, that can be arranged,” he countered, ever quick to throw on that charming facade, and moved closer. The cold emanating off his undead figure cooled the fire dancing along your skin.

“Enough of that,” Shadowheart huffed, rolling her eyes as she poured more sanguine liquid into her goblet—her third cup of the night. She was remarkably more relaxed and fun for a Sharran with wine flowing through her system.

“Oh, don’t worry, dear. The three of us can have plenty of fun together if you’d like.”

“Pass,” she said dryly, offering a hard shove to his shoulder instead.

You grinned as the two began to squabble with petty remarks and plenty of eye rolls. You took the opportunity to slip away for a moment of quiet.

You didn’t dislike your new, unexpected companions, in fact, you considered them friends after working together to defeat an encampment of goblins. Trust was earned and alliances forged but you weren’t used to your silently elected position as leader.

You were a bard for Gods’ sake! What knowledge did you possess of leading other than leading others in song? There were certainly more qualified individuals in your ragtag group, but somehow they trusted in your leadership and you weren’t about to let them down, not when so much depended on it. Sometimes it weighed on your shoulders; for every cut and bruise they received, somehow you felt you were to blame.

The celebration was still lively, bottles were still being poured, and laughter and song danced through the air. And still… trepidation, and anticipation for the uncertain future ahead, tainted the air.

The tieflings still had a long journey to Baldur’s Gate, and you and your companions had a cure to find. There was no telling any of you would make it past this night unscathed by the future ahead, but dwelling on the future would get you nowhere.

You breathed the rich, lively air and allowed a smile to settle on your face. This adventure would make a great tale if you survived. You could see it now—patrons gathered around you at the bar as you regaled them with the highs and lows of your heroic adventure, the friends and enemies you made along the way. And, if you were lucky, a lover by your side.

Speaking of—you glanced toward Halsin once again to find him alone and lingering by the tall grass, observing the party. His arms were crossed, yet the fondness of which he observed the festivities made him seem approachable. You drew in a deep breath and stepped toward him. His eyes found yours as you drew closer.

“You should be celebrating, not keeping an old druid like me company.”

You hoped that wasn't his attempt at shooing you away. “I am celebrating—with you.”

He hummed low, a small smile forming as he gazed down at you. Something unspoken lingered behind his amused expression, raw and unfiltered.

You tilted your head and brushed aside the feelings bubbling up in your stomach, the warmth rising across your cheeks. You cleared your throat, feeling the warmth from before returning to your cheeks, “So, where's your wine? There's plenty around. I think Mol has some stored away too.”

He shook his head with a chuckle. You’d almost think it was bashful. “I fear you do not want to see me drunk.”

You tilted your head and leaned in. What could an archdruid have to be embarrassed about? “Now I have to see.”

“Trust me, the stuff goes right to my head. Before you know it, I’d be breaking into song or declaring love to the first person I laid eyes on.”

You gaped, and in an overly exasperated voice said, “But love and song are my specialty!”

You were more than eager to hear declarations of love. Targeted at you, preferably.

“Maybe I can inspire you another time then.”

“Tonight?” You could almost taste the wine-fueled invitation. Sweet and tempting, a dangerous mix.

Halsin said nothing for a moment and you were certain he would refuse, probably thinking of how to let you down easily. Your stomach churned and your muscles tensed as you waited for any sign of rejection.

But, to your surprise, he nodded and rested a hand on your arm with a gentle squeeze. The feeling of his fingers against your skin shot a shiver through your body.

“Tonight.”

You blinked—once, twice. Disbelief and a mix of excitement stirred in your chest.

The rest of the celebrations passed in a blur of grateful tieflings approaching you with their thanks and relentless teasing from Shadowheart and Astarion. When the tieflings packed up and went on their way, headed for Baldur’s Gate, your party wished them well and settled in for the night.

You cast quick but unsubtle glances between the campfire and Halsin as you poked at the fire. He was setting up his tent between Wyll’s and Laezel’s.

You wondered when the promise of ‘tonight’ would come. Would he call upon you when the others were asleep? Would it be a simple look over the campfire, a nod of the head?

A hand on the small of your back, leading you into the woods. It would eventually slip lower, caressing your behind and pulling you flush against his solid chest. His lips would descend on yours with a hungry, desperate fervor, devouring any moans that escaped. Your hips flush with his, grinding–

“Man, what a night,” Karlach exclaimed as she threw herself against her bedroll by the fire.

Your eyes snapped from the fire to her, pushing your previous thoughts away. You took in a deep breath and felt it fill your lungs to chase away the heat. Your stomach twisted into knots.

She tucked her arms behind her head but sprung right up again, almost startling you. “Oh, I almost forgot! Check out what I found at the Grove.”

She snatched her pack, resting at the foot of her bedroll, and dug around until she presented you with a thin, crudely bound book. The corner was singed from the heat of her fingertips, but you could read the handwritten title across the cover in golden lettering—Shadow’s Kiss vol. 4 written by Roan Featherway.

When you flipped open the cover, you found most of the pages ripped out. The last chapter and epilogue were all that was left.

You briefly wondered if Karlach looked before taking it, but she probably hadn't. She admittedly hadn't read since primary, much to Gale’s horror.

You weren't entirely sure what the book was about after skimming the first page—something about two lovers. Luckily, you weren't too picky about your choice of literature.

“Can you read it tonight?” She stared at you with a wide smile. The flames in her hair flared, a key sign she was growing excited.

When the party wasn't slaying goblins, you found they enjoyed listening to you read, something to do with being a bard and mimicking voices. So, they took to collecting lost books in ruined of villages or anywhere else they could get their hands on one.

You glanced over to Halsin. He was pulling a blanket from his pack and setting it in his tent.

Would you still have time to sneak off later?

Gale appeared over your shoulder, squinting at the title of the novel. “Oh, another book? Hm, I'm unfamiliar with this one. Perhaps we should be starting this series in order.”

He settled down on his bedroll across from you with crossed legs.

“I'm sure our dear bard can spin up an interesting tale to fill in the gaps,” Wyll cut in, cradling a cup of wine and taking a seat by the fire.

You sucked in an exasperated breath when you saw Astarion and Shadowheart saunter up to the fire and take their places on either side of Karlach. There was no way you'd be able to make an excuse to slip away with Halsin without their relentless teasing.

You succumbed to Karlach’s request and opened up the book, clearing your throat.

“In the ashes of that ruined village, the pair shared a kiss, all tongue and teeth. Sweat and heat passed between the two bodies as they-”

Gods, was this really the story? You glanced up to your companions who seemed to look on with rapt attention. In the corner of your eye, you noticed a large figure settle down on a log.

“Don't stop on my account,” Halsin said, waving his hand to allow you to continue.

You nodded and dipped back into the novel. You were glad he didn't seem bothered that the two of you would have to wait a little longer. Though, you weren't sure how you could read a book like this and not think of tonight.

“-pulled one another closer, as if clinging to the last bit of hope either of them had left. Balsin,” you faltered over the name, mouth agape over the next word. That couldn't be a coincidence.

You and the rest of your companions sent a curious look at Halsin, who sat on the log with an amused smile.

“Any relation?” You asked, one brow raised.

“Not at all. It was supposed to be a historical account.”

The group chuckled to themselves as you continued the story. It became increasingly raunchy, taking a turn toward the expected. Clothes tossed away, bodies slick with sweat, tongues clashing.

Your companions listened on, clinging to every filthy word that dripped from your mouth. Gale was pink in the face, but remained seated on his bed roll with averted eyes. Karlach’s flames sparked blue every once in a while. Shadowheart and Astarion wore sly smiles as the story continued. Wyll was the most relaxed with his wine, quietly listening on. Even Lae’zel, sitting at her tent, stopped polishing her sword to listen.

The story was just another typical tavern tale, nothing special or out of the ordinary for you to read aloud, except to have Halsin audience to it, and practically in it, was a different story.

You couldn't help but imagine this Balsin fellow as Halsin. The descriptions of this main character holding his lover, kissing her, touching her—it sent a throbbing between your legs.

Every other sentence had you peering over the book at him, wondering if he was growing uncomfortable or embarrassed, but no such expression was evident on his face. Instead, he watched you, your lips, with a familiar hunger.

“Balsin caressed her bare skin. ‘Selune must have carved you from the stars herself.’ The-”

Shadowheart scoffed, cutting off your sentence. You paused to catch her rolling her eyes. “Don’t tell me that's actually flattering.”

“Oh, it is. I've used it quite a few times,” Astarion said.

“You must be a bad flirt then,” Wyll teased, shoving his shoulder into Astarion’s.

The party devolved into a petty squabble of flirting practices and the best pick-up lines after. On any other day, you would jump into the fray with your favorite lines, but you were far more curious about something, someone, else.

You caught Halsin's back retreating into the woods, fists clenched with tense shoulders. You frowned, shutting the book.

Your companions’ attention was elsewhere at the moment, so you stood, leaving the book behind, and snuck away.

You wandered through the forest path you’ve taken many times before after long, grueling days of battle, and found the river bank.

You saw the reflection of the moon and stars in the river, but no Halsin.

A minute of your eyes scouring the water and the rustle of brush caught your attention a little too late. Clamorous, heavy steps advanced behind you. When you turned and caught a brief look of brown fur, it collided with you to the ground.

Hot and heavy puffs of air fanned across your face. Fur brushed across your exposed arms. A worg? A goblin ambush?

You opened your eyes to face the creature, prepared to scream for help, only to find it was not a worg but a bear—a familiar bear.

You gasped, “Halsin?”

A ring of gold circled the bear’s irises and a flash of white overtook your vision. You shielded your eyes until the light faded. When you removed your hand, you were met with a very naked Halsin above you.

His thick forearms rested beside your head, keeping his weight off you and trapping you between them. “Forgive me,” he apologized. “I was hoping this would not happen.”

You stammered, forcing your eyes to focus on his face and not wander down to his chest, “What? Tackling me to the ground?”

“I was hoping I could control my bear form.” Halsin pushed himself off the ground, offering you a hand up.

You attempted to narrow your focus on his outstretched hand that was hovering in front of his waist. But you couldn't help the accidental slip of your gaze and—Oh Gods, he was massive.

You hoped he didn't notice your eyes didn't bulge out of your skull as you took his hand. If he did, he said nothing and had no reaction as he hauled you back up to your feet.

“What do you mean by control?”

“Sometimes my desire grows so strong it's hard to hold myself back from changing forms.”

“Desire?” You repeated absently, the rest of his words floating over your head. You looked over the red tattoo that curved over his cheek before settling on his pink lips. There was something like desire building in your chest or something fiercer, hungry.

You inched forward, ghosting your fingers over the soft curve of his belly, not taking your eyes off his lips. You wet your own, wondering when you'll finally get a taste. He probably tasted of berries and rich honey.

“Yes, hearing you read that book, I could hardly stay in control, so I left.” Halsin’s voice was low, breathy, almost as if he was still trying to hold himself back. He grasped your wrist, thumb gliding over your pulse. “I hope you aren't frightened by me.”

You could have gawked. Frightened? He was so turned on by you, he turned into a bear. You couldn't say that about any previous lovers. “Absolutely not. I still want you, Halsin.”

There was a flash of relief that bled into a smile. “Come here.”

Halsin tugged your wrist, colliding your bodies, and kissed you. He was so warm, his lips soft, but his kiss was passionate, needy. He wanted to devour you. A hand cupped your neck, pulling you impossibly close, melting you against him.

You could barely get a breath in without pressing your hand against his chest. As you took in the night air, Halsin took to your neck, grazing teeth over your skin like you were a meal he wanted to sink his teeth into.

He tugged at your shirt and you lifted your arms to help him get it off so your chest was just as bare as his. “You’re breathtaking,” he rasped as his lips dipped below your collarbone. He murmured more praises as he made his way down your chest.

Your head fell back with a sigh escaping you, heat thruming through your body. Your hands ran through the length of his hair, gripping the locks between curled fingers.

Halsin nipped and sucked at your skin. Your body was giving into his touch, legs growing weak. Before you could stumble, Halsin's hands grasped the meat of your thigh and lifted you.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, securing yourself against his front. You shifted your hips to run yourself along his growing erection.

Halsin moaned as he moved to a tree, pressing you against the rough bark. His hands roamed your skin, brushing over your breasts, grazing your nipples to peaks.

He slipped down to his knees, kissing your stomach and tugging down your pants. The

Halsin caressed your thighs. “Rest your legs over my shoulders.”

“Won't I be too heavy?”

“Let me worship your body the way it was made for.”

Your jaw almost dropped at his words, but empowered, you hooked your legs over his shoulders.

Halsin was an attentive, passionate lover. He kissed your abdomen and down to your clit, like a gentle lover would. For a man who spent much of his time as a bear and so large, he was surprisingly gentle.

Your fingers returned to his hair, intertwining through the locks, as you shuddered. You were afraid of falling, but his strong grip on your backside held you steady. You were safe in his hands.

His tongue lavished you, parting your folds delicately like he was dipping in to taste a pot of honey. Just a taste was not enough as he soon delved deeper into your dripping heat.

“So sweet,” he murmured between those slow laps at your folds. He brought you closer, hungrier now that he had a taste.

Your head rested against the tree trunk and dared to let a moan escape you. Surely your companions were still too busy arguing amongst themselves to hear the lewd sounds slipping between the trees. Even if they could hear, you weren't sure you'd care. The feeling of Halsin’s skilled tongue far outweighed the embarrassment of being caught.

Your thighs clenched around his head as your hips bucked into his mouth. The peak of your climax came with a pitched cry, your body tensing and releasing all at once.

Halsin didn't stop devouring you, tasting every drop of your release with a desperate tongue.

You tugged at his hair when it all felt too much, when the pleasure turned to a burn at every lap against your sensitive clit. Halsin allowed himself to be pulled from you. He looked up at you, mouth wet with your juices, with a glimmer in his eyes.

“Tired?” His voice was teasing. His tongue darted out to catch your arousal smeared across his lower lip as he grined.

You almost scoffed. “Hardly. Is that all you've got?”

Halsin slipped out under you and swept you into another kiss, where you could still taste yourself on his lips. He pulled away and swiped his thumb over your glistening lips. “Trust me—you will not get much sleep tonight.”

The two of you met the cold grassy floor once again with you splayed on your back and Halsin hovering over you. You smiled up at him, inviting his down for another kiss which he accepted.

Lips clashed with heat and passion as two thick fingers pushed into your slick heat. You shuddered and arched into him as he buried them to the knuckle. He worked you open, spreading and stretching you out to prepare you for his cock. And judging by what you’d seen, it was much needed.

He turned you on to your stomach, easing his fingers out of you. The grass tickled between your fingers as you arched your back, displaying yourself for him like a ready mate. He gripped your hips, and you felt him, thick and warm, against your ass.

“I'll be gentle,” he promised.

“Don't be,” you sighed, grinding against him. You wanted him to lose himself in you. You wanted the calm and composed arch druid completely feral, fucking deep into you until the dawn forced your bodies apart.

When the tip of his cock notched at your entrance, you bit your lip.

He pushed in with a stretch. You opened around him and he slid into you with little resistance, snug in your warmth. You felt so, so full and when he pulled out, teasing your entrance again before thrusting back in, your mouth dropped open, and you moaned.

“So good,” he praised with his words slipping off into a low groan like he was biting something back. “Are you alright?”

You nodded in response and pushed yourself against him. He was gentle, true to his word, infuriatingly so.

“I don't want you to hold back,” you demanded.

His fingers dug into your skin, marking the tender flesh with cresent shapes. With another sharp thrust, you nearly feel forward into the grass. Halsin’s lips pulled close to your ear. “Are you sure that's what you want?”

“Forget your control and fuck me.”

No longer restrained, Halsin gave you exactly what you craved—hips snapping against you with no room for you to breathe.

You shuddered and cried out, ached and moaned. Even the night air couldn't cool the heat between your slick bodies. Your orgasm hit you hard, leaving you limp and useless against his heavy thrusts.

Halsin lifted your body against his chest and continued using you. One orgasm after the other.

You just hoped you'd still have your voice by sunrise.

#halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin smut #bg3 smut #bg3 x reader #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 smut #halsin fanfic #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 headcanons #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #my works

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lyneylover · 10 months

Text

Yandere! Lyney royalty Au♡

Synopsis: lyney is a street magician that you seen 3 weeks before your birthday. After your dad sees you mesmerized by his magic show he decides to buy lyney and his siblings to be your personal magicians. Little did your dad know that this would be the biggest mistake he ever made.

Word count: 569

So picture this!

Originally lyney was just a street performer with his twin sister and sometimes his little brother as well.

But that all changed as soon as you came to one of his magic shows.

You were amazed by his tricks and enjoyed watching them. Genuinely having a good time watching his show.

It wasn't everyday that the princess of the l/n family actually seemed extremely impressed by magicians. Many have tried but failed since you were always able to tell what illusion they used.

But there was something about lyney and his sister lynette's magic that made you hypnotized.

By the time the show was officially over you seemed disappointed.

Noticing your disappointment your dad has the brilliant idea to buy the 3 magicians for your upcoming birthday as a surprise.

After that magic show everything seemed so boring but 3 weeks later you got the biggest surprise of your life.

The day of your 18th birthday arrived.

Like any other birthday you had there were lots of gifts.

But something was different this time. This time your dad presented you with something you'd never expect.

There stood the three magicians.

Standing right in front of you was lyney, lynette, and freminet.

In that moment you were frozen and bubbling with excitement. You quickly ran over to your dad hugging him and thanking.

But little did you know that lyney was smitten by you.

The second he saw you at his magic show he felt you stole his heart away. The twinkle in your eyes when he made something disappear and reappear or how he drew the exact same card that a person showed the crowd.

Usually lyney wouldn't let anyone buy him and his siblings so when your dad asked him he was going to say no but then realized that the same man he was going to decline was your father.

Lyney uses this as a way to get closer to you knowing that he's only a mere magician and you're a princess. So he automatically yes not wanting to leave his siblings he told the king that he would only go if he bought all three of them for $100 a piece.

When lyney saw you he felt giddy inside. He was mesmerized by your beautiful features your pretty eyes, your soft looking hair, your plump lips everything about you made him blush.

This didn't go unnoticed by Lynette and freminet though.

After a month of being your personal magician he finally tells his siblings about his feelings for you hoping that they would help him with the master plan he thought up.

When Lynette and freminet finally agree lyney is ecstatic.

A week later they put Lyney's plan in motion.

At dinner lynette slips something in everyone's drink that'll make them tired.

When everyone is finally asleep lyney sneaks into your room covering your mouth before waiting for freminet to appear.

When freminet gets there they all quietly bring you to the escape carriage they had prepared earlier.

They all quickly run back inside to trash your room and their rooms to make it look like a kidnapping. With the money they had gotten from the king they took you far across fontaine where he would never find you.

The next day the king was furious. He thought someone kidnapped his magicians and his precious only daughter.

The king looked for them for months but not a trace of them was ever found.

Lyney could finally be with the love of his life.

I hope you guys enjoyed this! Sorry I haven't been posting I've had writers block but I'm finally back on track! And I'm currently completing my first hotaru haganezuka request but I thought I would post my little brainrot for you guys<3 Also should i post a part two with yan! personal detective Heizou looking for reader?

#akanes bakery #bakery #brainrot #yandere lyney #lyney #lyney x reader #lyney x y/n #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin au #Akane's genshin royalty Au #yandere genshin x reader #yandere lyney x reader #genshin x reader

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okaylikesmomo · 10 months

Text

Chapter 6: Antifragile

“Sweetie, that hurts.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry,” Chaewon apologized, letting go of your hand.

“I’ve never seen you this nervous before,” you chuckled softly, placing your hand on her trembling knee. “At least try to enjoy it.”

“I do enjoy it, I- it’s starting!” she screamed before grasping your hand once more, even harder than before.

This time you simply ignored the pain and let it happen, smiling at her excitement. Unfortunately for your ears, her scream wasn’t alone, it was accompanied by four others. This was as new of an experience for you as it was for the other members; You couldn’t help but feel just as excited as the five girls in the room as that first line of the music video played.

I am antifragile.

“Ah Zuha!”

“Eunchae!”

“Kkura wow!”

Hectic was an understatement. Even though there was a lot of energy in the room, it was nothing compared to the level of excitement that could be felt by hundreds of fans waiting for Le Sserafim to take the stage just a short distance away. It was a brilliant idea to release the group's first comeback together with an entire concert; it was surely one way to come out with a bang..

“You girls are acting like it’s your first time seeing the video,” you laughed.

“Hey! Shush,” Yunjin responded, shooting you a playful glare.

“Hey, shush!” Kazuha repeated before the two girls began giggling like crazy, repeating the line over and over.

“Ahh what is wrong with these two,” Sakura whined, unable to contain her smile, with Eunchae sitting in her lap.

“Look,” Chaewon muttered, her eyes never leaving the screen, face full of focus. It almost looked like she was reviewing the video- or perhaps she was hyping herself up for the impending performance.

“Pretty,” you said before giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, patting her thigh with your hand. Her grip loosened on your hand for a bit, just until her powerful ‘whoa’ line which had the girls erupt in screams once more. Chaewon took the opportunity to stand up, pulling you along with her.

“Where are we going?” you whispered, following her to the back of the room where a couple of rows of clothing gave you some privacy from the others who were still screaming their lungs out.

“I want to show you something,” she answered, hopping up onto the dresser.

Chaewon slipped a hand up under her skirt and pulled down her safety shorts to her knees before leaning back, spreading her legs as far as the shorts would allow. You lowered yourself just enough to see up her skirt as she stuck her hand up the bottom again. She pulled her white underwear to the side, revealing a sparkle between her legs.

“Is that-”

“Yes.”

“Why?” you gasped, quickly checking over your shoulder to make sure your privacy was still intact before slipping your hand up her skirt as well.

“I’m going to perform with it,” she whispered into your ear as your fingers made contact with her wet skin.

“Won’t that be a bit uncomfortable?” you asked while rubbing your fingers beside her folds, up and down her soft skin.

“It’s going to be my constant reminder,” she moaned as you began to rub your thumb around her clit. “My reminder of what you’re going to do to me.”

“I’m going to do to you?” you replied, lightly tugging on the glass piece inside her. “What might that be?”

“You’ll find out soon,” she answered before pushing your hand away and hopping off the dresser.

“Don’t go,” you protested, trying to slide your hand up her skirt again. “You still have time.”

“Chaewon-ah! We’re about to go out, where are you?!” Sakura shouted from the other side of the room.

“Coming!” she shouted back while smirking at you. “So much for still have time,” she added quietly before leaning forward and kissing you.

“Have fun out there, I’ll be watching,” you cheered, giving her butt a little pat as she rushed over, back to the rest of the girls who were a screaming mess as the video came to an end.

It all happened so quickly. The room was filled with screams and excitement just a moment ago, but now they had vanished, leaving you with nothing but the ringing in your ears as a reminder. You got comfortable on the couch, eyes glued to the screen as the group’s introduction began playing.

There was no denying this group was loaded with charm. Each member had their moment on the screen; Yunjin with her chic expressions, Kazuha with her unrealistic beauty, Sakura had that slightly awkward but so loveable smile, and Eunchae in typical Eunchae fashion was adorable. Then the camera zoomed in on Chaewon, the one who was able to pull it all off: cool demeanor, beautiful makeup, her slow and seductive blink, all topped with her adorably tied up hairstyle.

What really captivated you, more than you already were, was the seduction. The way Chaewon looked into the camera, she nonverbally forced you to look at her. Dripping of confidence, you would have never guessed that the same girl had been sitting next to you trembling from nerves just a minute ago. Then it began, the instrumental to No Celestial starting up, the members all getting into it as if this was their calling in life.

In a way it was. All of the training and hard work was unraveling before your eyes. In a vacuum, it would be impossible to know that these were rookies performing their first comeback; They jumped up with the assurance and certainty of seasoned professionals. You could see that they were enjoying themselves despite a little bit of shakiness here and there and a few minor choreo errors that were completely overshadowed by their enthusiasm - it was obvious to anyone watching that they were genuinely having a good time up there.

The amount of pride you felt as you watched Chaewon address the crowd was overwhelming. She, and the rest of the members, just looked so happy. You were glad that all of their hard work was rewarded with an opportunity to be face to face with fans; fans who were cheering their lungs out. They deserved it, the hardships they faced. Just as you were really feeling the emotions, Good Parts began to play. Before you knew it, the girls reunited with you in the room.

“Why do you look so sad?” Chaewon asked while jumping onto your lap, blocking your view of the screen and the video.

Without speaking, you pulled her into a hug. At first she didn’t move, but eventually she returned the hug twofold. Her body was still slightly warm after the performance, and it brought you great comfort having her in your arms.

“I’m not sad,” you mumbled into her shoulder, giving her butt a little squeeze, knowing what she had between her legs right now. “Excited would be a better word.”

“You two are so adorable,” Eunchae teased, taking a seat next to you.

“Eunchae behave,” Sakura said sternly, taking a seat next to her.

“Wow, Kkura is so cool when she’s bossy,” Yunjin cooed, sipping on some water and fanning herself while Eunchae laughed.

“Zuha, is everything alright?” Sakura asked, ignoring the other two.

“This won’t open for some reason,” she mumbled, fiddling with a little packet.

“Do you need help?” Sakura laughed.

“I got this,” Kazuha mumbled, her face fully focused on the snack.

“Come on,” Chaewon instructed, standing up and pulling you away. “We’ll be right back.”

“Where are-” Eunchae began before Sakura covered up her mouth.

“Don’t be too long, we have to change and head back out,” Sakura said while playfully. It almost seemed like she knew something.

You paused briefly next to Kazuha as you followed Chaewon out of the room. She was holding the packet when you took it from her and ripped it open before returning it to her. She was shocked at first, but she soon gave you a loving smile. You returned her grin and thought how sweet she was as you caught up to Chaewon.

“That was kind of you,” Chaewon commented now that the two of you were alone in the hallway.

“Am I not allowed to be?”

“I’ve told you so many times,” Chaewon huffed. “Zuha is fair game, I expect you to treat her well. Just stop making it so obvious that you want her.”

She was playing playful about it, but part of you suspected there might have been a tinge of jealousy. Or perhaps you were overthinking it.

“Yeah, but I don’t want Zuha right now,” you announced before aggressively pinning Chaewon against the wall. “I want you.”

“Do you?” she moaned as you began peppering her neck with kisses.

Your hand slid up her thigh, up her skirt, and then yanked her safety shorts and underwear down at once, letting the garments fall to the ground. With her neck in your mouth, you grabbed the base of the plug and slowly pulled it out of her pussy.

“Ah,” she moaned softly, reaching behind your back and grabbing your head.

Her pussy was dripping - you could feel little droplets fall onto your wrist as you began rubbing the plug around her intimate parts. You slid it up and down her pussy, forcing her to moan quietly, knowing that at any second someone could walk out of the room and catch you in the act.

An idea popped into your mind as you rubbed the little glass plug around her pussy. With your other hand, you gently squeezed her ass as you moved your mouth deeper into her neck. You slowly slipped the plug towards her ass, spreading her cheeks just enough to give you access.

“What are you-” she began to whisper before suddenly letting out a deafening squeal.

“Chaewon-ah?!” Sakura shouted from behind the door.

“Are you okay?!” Yunjin shouted as well.

“Yeah!” she shouted back. “I slipped, but I’m fine!”

“Slipped,” you whispered while stifling your laughter.

She hit you on the chest, playfully, before pulling up her underwear and fixing her skirt while glaring at you.

“Need to find somewhere more private,” she whispered, taking your hand in hers and squeezing it painfully hard.

As you followed her towards the door, you couldn’t take your eyes off her ass. The first few steps clearly showed some levels of discomfort, but soon she began walking normally. If you didn’t know better, you could have never guessed she had a plug in her ass right now - but you did know better.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she scolded you while walking.

“I’d say sorry, but I noticed you didn’t take it out yet,” you teased back.

“Shut up.”

You obeyed her command, trying your best to play along with her ‘anger’. She was clearly trying to act upset, but you just found it adorable the way she was trying to hide her smile.

“This works,” Chaewon said while peering into one of the empty dressing rooms. “Lock the door behind you.”

“What if I just leave it open?” you asked while locking it. “Add to the excitement?”

“I don’t care, just hurry up and get in here,” Chaewon growled, slamming her lips against yours.

As you two kissed, you moved deeper into the room. While the sloppy and messy kiss took over your mind, Chaewon backpedaled deeper into the room until a dresser eventually came into contact with her lower back.

“Someone’s in a rush,” you joked while yanking her skirt alongside her underwear down to the ground.

“Someone shoved a plug up my ass,” she hissed, stepping out of the clothes before kissing your mouth again. “Now can that someone hurry up and fuck me? I have to go back on stage soon.”

“Then someone needs to hurry up and turn around,” you snapped, giving her ass a hard spank before spinning her by her hips so that she was staring into the mirror of the makeup station.

Your firm cock immediately sprung up in attention as you dropped your own pants and locked eyes. Your hand slipped up her body and wrapped around her neck as you held onto your base with your other hand, fumbling with your cock between her legs until you found her hole.

With her lustful gaze in the mirror, and your cock poised to enter her pussy, you thrust your hips. As your length squeezed into her tight little pussy, your hand around her neck gently pressed down. Her mouth shot open, her eyes squinted, and she paused for a second as your hips slammed into her ass.

“So fucking wet,” you groaned, sliding your hand from her neck onto her shoulder. You brought your other hand up the side of her body, placing it on her other shoulder before pressing down and bending her over deeper. However, you made sure not to push too far - you wanted to see her face in the mirror as you started fucking her.

The initial shock had already worn off, and Chaewon began to pant each time your hips slammed into her cute little ass. Slapping noises filled the room alongside her breaths and your occasional grunt as you exerted as much power as you could. At this point, she was moving her hips back onto your cock as hard as you were thrusting into her.

“Fuck…” she moaned out freely. “Fuck me.”

Her ass was jiggling like crazy as you let go of her shoulders, running your hands down her body until they were on her hips. Now you could clearly see the ripples being made each time your thighs slammed into her. Her tight pussy was making it difficult to pace yourself. All you wanted was to keep fucking her senseless. She knew you were watching her all night, just like all of those other fans out there, but only you knew what she really wanted.

Peeking out from between her ass cheeks each time your cock rammed into her was the sparkle of the plug. You stopped thrusting for just a second and rubbed your thumb against the base of the plug, gently pushing it deeper into her ass.

“Take it out,” she whispered.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, grabbing the plug, worried that it was too much for her.

“No,” she answered, looking back over her shoulder. “Take it out and fuck my ass.”

“You mean it?” you confirmed after getting over the initial shock of her request.

She didn't need to say anything; the look she gave you was plenty for an explanation. She wasn't messing around - nothing facetious about it. This was going to happen, yet you still couldn't believe it. You quickly removed your cock and sank down behind her. You shoved your face between her legs, ripping the plug out of her asshole while licking at her pussy.

“Ah!” she screamed out sharply before quickly transitioning into moans as your mouth pressed against her asshole, soothing the pain. She began to moan softly as your tongue toyed with her tighter hole, teasing it, prodding away.

“You alright?” you asked, standing up behind her, your hands continuously massaging her ass.

“Mhmm,” she whimpered, staring down.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” she moaned quietly.

“Be more specific,” you commanded, giving her left cheek a rough spank before reaching forward and pulling her hair back with a touch of roughness, forcing her to look up.

“Fuck my ass,” Chaewon cried out, grabbing onto the dresser for support, looking up in the mirror directly into your eyes. “Please.”

Luckily your cock, twitching in excitement, was coated in her wetness already. You spat on your hand before rubbing against her asshole, adding more of your saliva to the bit that was already there from when your tongue was exploring. Carefully, you pressed your tip against her entrance until it entered her hole. You took hold of her hips, bracing yourself for what was to come.

Chaewon’s pussy was tight - beautifully tight - but her asshole was a whole different story. You slowly pushed forward, fighting against her body, taking utmost care to go slowly. Each inch forward was a fight against pressure. It felt so wrong yet so right at the same time. Her tight asshole squeezed every ounce of your energy out of your cock.

“Chae,” you gasped, your fingers digging deeper into her hips, your cock halfway into her asshole.

The two of you made eye contact in the mirror and she knew, she knew what you wanted. Her eyes shut tight, face scrunched up in a grimace, her teeth clenched, and she began to push her ass backwards onto your cock.

A slurry of grunts and moans escaped her lips as she pushed back with all her strength. She got most of the way, her asshole getting tighter and tighter by the inch. When she got to what seemed like her limit, you took control again. With a firm grip on her waist, you pushed your hips forward, jamming your cock all the way into her ass.

“Fuck!” she cried in a mix of discomfort and pleasure.

“Your body is so fucking perfect,” you gasped, bending forward and pressing your chest against her back. You brought your hands up her body, wrapping them around her stomach. “You good?”

“Yeah,” she groaned, her asshole convulsing all around your cock. “Give me a second,” she added in her tiny voice.

With her tight asshole squeezing every bit of your shaft, you took the opportunity to slide one hand down from her stomach and between her legs. You began to rub her, gently, working your hardest to make this feel as good for her as it felt for you.

Her pussy was still soaked, instantly coating your fingers. You inserted a single finger into her pussy, which at this point barely felt tight relative to where your cock was at the moment. Back and forth your finger went, easing her body into pleasure and euphoria.

“Fuck me,” she begged quietly. “Fuck me, please.”

Your hips slowly began to pump away at her asshole, carefully with no sudden movements. She felt so fucking good right now. You kept fingering her, almost in an attempt to distract her from any discomfort.

It did feel like her discomfort was starting to vanish, that or your cock was getting used to the tightness of her body. Either way, all you knew was the way she was squeezing your shaft felt divine. You began to pick up the pace, moving your hips in a bit of a rhythm now.

While your cock found a comfortable tempo, alongside your finger, you took the chance to turn her head sideways and kiss her. It was sloppy, definitely lacking form, but you needed as much of her body as you could touch. You repeatedly kissed her mouth, or rather tried to as her body kept shaking each time you slammed into her backside.

The lust for Chaewon took over. The next few minutes were a blur. All you knew was Chaewon’s asshole felt like heaven. Even though you never wanted to stop, you could feel your cock getting ready for the climax. Surely you wouldn’t be able to last much longer, not with how perfect Chaewon’s tight asshole felt.

“I’m getting close!” she cried out, breaking her lips away from yours, her voice three octaves higher than normal. “Don’t fucking stop.”

Her body collapsed down to the dresser and you followed suit, pressing down against her back again with your chest. One arm snaked around her toned midriff. You could feel the flex of her abs each time your cock slammed into her asshole.

She began to squeal, loudly and rapidly. Words could not explain how turned on you were at the sound of her voice. It was too much for you, and you felt yourself mere seconds away from unloading into her asshole. You quickly tried to logic out of the situation; Keep fucking her ass even though you were about to cum? Slow down to try and delay it? Pull out and cover her beautiful ass?

The options flashed in your mind, but you quickly realized it was futile. Your cock began exploding inside her, filling her up with your cum. The added lubricant from your cock made it easier to fuck her tight little asshole as your orgasm took over your entire existence. There was a lot.

Your orgasm kept going, giving you the drive to keep plowing Chaewon’s little asshole. Luckily for you, her high-pitched squeals were a clear indicator of her own impending orgasm. Just as your cock began to burn up from the sensitivity of your post-orgasm state, you felt her pussy clamp down on your fingers.

A single, drawn out “fuck” escaped her lips as her whole body began to shake beneath you. With the arm you had wrapped around her stomach, you squeezed her body gently - subtly reminding her that you were here for her. You ignored the struggle of using your spent cock and you kept pumping away gently at her asshole as she trembled in your grasp: the goal was just to make her feel good.

It took some time for her body’s convulsions to finally subside. At this point, your cock was painfully sensitive, and the tight squeeze of Chaewon’s asshole offered little reprieve from the sensory overload. You stood up straight, taking a good look at Chaewon’s body bent over the dresser.

Slowly, you began to pull back, your cock sliding out of her little asshole. The same body that made it so difficult to enter was now making it difficult to leave, squeezing tightly as you pulled your hips back. It was all worth it, just to hear that satisfying moan Chaewon released as your cock finally freed itself from her embrace.

Immediately afterwards, a glob of your thick white cum spilled out of her asshole. Some of it adhered to her body, leaving a white mess on her pussy, while most of it fell directly onto the floor. You crouched down behind her, reaching up to spread her asscheeks lightly, admiring your mess sliding down the insides of her thighs.

“How’s it feel?” you asked, fully focused on the mess between her legs.

“A lot rougher than the plug,” she giggled, pushing herself up off the dresser, standing up straight. “But fine, better than I expected.”

“Good,” you said, standing up behind her, hugging her from behind. “We should probably get you cleaned up, you still have to go back on stage don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I wish we could just cuddle instead.”

“I do too,” you confessed, looking around the room to find some tissues or wipes. “But there are fans waiting, you wouldn’t want to disappoint them.”

“I know,” she agreed, accepting some tissues from you. “They deserve a good show, we honestly owe it to them.”

“Imagine if they saw what we just did,” you chuckled. “That would be a good show.”

“Inappropriate,” Chaewon reprimanded you in an exaggeratedly playful tone.

“By the way, what gave you the idea for the plug?”

“It was Kkura’s idea,” Chaewon confessed. “I… asked her for some advice.”

“Advice?” you cocked an eyebrow. “You claim nothing happened last night, yet-”

“Nothing happened last night,” she said firmly. “I never said anything about this morning.”

“The truth comes out,” you announced dramatically, wrapping your arms around her waist. “So why don’t you tell me what you and Sakura got up to this morning.”

“That’s a secret for you to find out another day,” she teased before turning around. “Who knows, maybe one day we’ll show you.”

—

“I’m exhausted,” Chaewon sighed before falling face first onto the bed.

“Awh sweetie, I’m proud of you,” you admired her, placing your hands on her back and massaging her sore body gently. “I’m sure you’ve seen, but the initial response has been phenomenal.”

“I don’t care.”

“Yeah you do.”

She sat up and smiled warmly, despite the fatigue being so evident in her eyes.

“You’re right, I do care,” she said, leaning forward and kissing you briefly. “But I’m still exhausted.”

“With how much you guys record beforehand, you’d think things would get easier after the comeback.”

“I wish,” she laughed, standing up and removing her clothes. “It was really just the hours we spent in makeup today that got to me, I nearly fell asleep like three times.”

“If it makes you feel better, I think you look amazing even without all that makeup.”

“That’s sweet and all but unfortunately it doesn’t work like that,” she muttered while reaching into her closet to find some more comfortable clothes. “Thanks for waiting, by the way. I’m sorry I ended up being late.”

“It’s fine, I know you’re busy with the comeback stuff,” you reassured her.

“Yeah,” she sighed softly.

“We’re still good for dinner, right?”

Her pouty face as she returned to the bed was all the answer you needed.

“You’re too tired, aren’t you?” you asked with a light laugh.

“I’m sorry, we just had such a long day,” she sighed, joining you on the bed and leaning into your ear. “I’m also still super sore from yesterday.”

“Don’t sweat it,” you responded, giving her butt a gentle rub. “We can just hang out.”

“I have another idea, if you’re open to it,” Chaewon suggested, slipping the shirt on. “How about you take Kazuha instead?”

“Take Kazuha?” you repeated. “You sure?”

“Yeah, why not? You two get along so well,” she continued. “Plus, I think she could really use it.”

“Wow aren’t you such a good leader,” you teased playfully. “Always looking out for your members.”

“What do you say, can you help this leader out?” she asked, climbing on top of your body. “I’ll make it worth your while if you do.”

“Going on a date with Kazuha and getting a reward? Sounds like a good deal.”

“It is a good deal,” she whispered, kissing you again. “Spend the night with her again if she wants, she worked so hard today.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“And what about the surprise?” you asked, kissing her while your hands filled themselves with Chaewon’s toned ass. “When do I get that?”

She slid off your body and lay down in her bed, pulling the sheets up.

“Tomorrow, you can make me all sore again,” she moaned with a wink.

---

A/N:

Honestly this got a tiny bit delayed, but yay here it is. I just gotta say, the support recently for my work has been overwhelming. So many kind messages! Forgive any typos, I tried to proofread if thoroughly but I have a weird gut feeling that I missed some.

Now for the story. For those of you who saw "that post", I just wanna say making this a very Chaewon-heavy chapter was not me being petty, this was just always the plan. Obviously I've teased it, but I'll just say there's no more bait when it comes to Kazuha's chapter (I've already written most of it, and yes it is next).

Please feel free to reach out and leave feedback! I try to read every message/comment/whatever. Thanks again everyone who reads and has been beyond kind to me! <3

#kpop smut #smut #fluff #chaewon #fanfiction #chaewon smut #le sserafim #le sserafim smut #sakura #kazuha #yunjin #eunchae

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i4mizu · 1 month

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❄️ skater!mizu x fem!reader ❄️

you were watching your girlfriend's latest skating performance, when...

masterlist <3

the day was already tense.

you were at the skating rink waiting for your girlfriend to get ready.

the famous mizu would make her last performance as a brilliant ice skater. but something wasn't right…

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・. .・

she was very quiet.

ok. she can be silent and cool as a midnight breeze sometimes... but she never stays quiet before a performance.

obviously it would make sense! of course, the last presentation of a career marked by so much success and achievements!

nahh... it's nothing. she’s just anxious.

but you didn't stop worrying.

"i’ll go there with the others, ok?" you kiss her forehead.

"what if i fail..."

you automatically turn around and kneel in front of her.

"what are you saying? mizu, look back! since you were a teenager you have had a brilliant career and changed women's skating forever! everyone will only have good memories of your hard work, my love."

"but if i do it badly specially today it will be marked." you couldn’t hold the chuckle, the way she said it was adorable.

suddenly a staff arrived in the room.

"you'll be in in two minutes."

you two look at each other.

"i better go now... i love you, alright? everything will be fine!"

you share a quick kiss with her before leaving and joining the other people in the ring.

a few minutes later, all the lights went out.

seeing her there in the middle of the ice is like waking up in a dream…

the way her figure moves in an unpretentious way? charming the cameras, the jurors. it was natural to her. she was born for this.

each jump made majestically.

it’s as if the mizu from minutes ago had disappeared...

you scream a few times scaring the people around you, but you don’t give a shit.

the woman of your dreams was about to put an end to her amazing career, history was being made.

the presentation was coming to an end, everything was completely perfect.

but suddenly strong hands covered your face.

the song was coming to an end and you were desperately trying to free yourself. the hands left your face seconds later and you opened your eyes, still scared.

and she was there… in front of you

on her knees, with one hand on her heart and the other open towards you.

holding a box with an engagement ring.

the audience didn't understand until the scene was shown on the screen, everyone started screaming and throwing flowers at you two.

this would be her last performance because… she wanted to marry you!

your whole body started to shake, and tears started to run down your face even though it contained the most genuine smile you've ever shown.

seeing you accept and repeat ‘yes yes yes’ several times, mizu jumped over the wall (even with her skates on) and she hugged you so easily that she could spin you in the air.

she doesn't care at all if she loses the competition, she just wants you.

i am barely with my eyes open so i’m sorry if this sucks, i just had this idea while thinking about one of my favorite animes: yuri on ice 🥺

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lingering-nomad · 10 months

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Seeing ppl complain that Astarion's non-evil-vampire-lord sex scene is fade-to-black while his evil overlord sex scene is... more explicit.

😕🙄🤦‍♀️

I know your average socmed user doesn't get metaphor, especially visual metaphor, but the depth of the media literacy crisis we are in will never cease to horrify me. Hope springs eternal, though, so lemme try to 'splain you the thing.

The use of the fade vs the active scene is fucking brilliant cinematography. It fades to black when Astarion fucks "on his own terms" because he is not performing for an audience anymore. He says in that scene that if he completed the ritual, he'd be trapped in the same grasp for power as Cazador was - "trapped" being the operative word. That's why his evil overlord scene doesn't fade. He's still performing, he's still playing a role, he's still looking for an audience to impress with his newfound might. That's why that scene is performed for an audience, i.e. the viewer.

I said ppl who play BG3 as a dating sim were going to walk away disappointed, and lo and behold. You wanted steamy vampire porn and got a thoughtful, insightful narrative about autonomy and freedom versus power and spectacle. Like... I'm sorry Astarion has his own story of self-actualization that doesn't revolve around him lusting after you your oc?? I understand it's a strain to be confronted with a narrative that expects the viewer to engage and think instead of being mindlessly indulged.

Yeah, you're mad cos you didn't get your rocks off, but to start accusing the writers of "misogyny"?? Really? We're going there?

#fandom wank #astarion #bg3 spoilers

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rntoshi · 1 year

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͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ 🔊 bachira meguru (n): the obsessive type.

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏/ • yandere tendencies, all characters are adults.

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏similar: a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

it's canon that there's something a bit sinister about bachira— something a little off. it makes me believe he isn’t the conventional lover you’d want him to be.

bachira is an obsessive type, meaning if he enjoyed something he would indulge in it in an excessive, unhealthy amount. it's unfiltered. and as cute as he is, there is a brewing darkness inside of him that he's been open about since he was a child. so much so that he's seemingly made friends with it, referring to this imaginary friend as a "monster," and often talking to and about it as if they were longtime friends.

you to bachira was no exception. he was attracted to you because you were self-assured, not in a cocky way? but in a way that you have a level head on your shoulders. you're seemingly at peace with yourself and where you are in life— and bachira is intrigued by that because he hasn't.. felt that. bachira has never known the happiness that is being surrounded by those who love and accept him like you did when you were a child. much like how he was drawn to isagi, it's similar with you. but instead, bachira doesn't want to coexist and awaken something in you: he wants to possess you because he views you as some sort of angel— you're a virtue who makes him feel tranquility he's never had when he was young. it feels euphoric for him when he's with you for the simple fact he feels protected, heard and accepted even despite his.. eccentric personality. all the things he gotten tormented for; you love. you actively heal his innermost trauma which is why he'd go to extremes rather than letting you go.

you balance him out. he’s very childish, whimsical and chaotic whereas you are nurturing, doting and stable. you’re his anchor in many ways but it’s most evident emotionally. he has moments of weakness where he needs your constant reassurance that you love him, having to promise him a thousand times that you won’t leave him for someone else— his biggest fear is being alone but when he met you it shifted into: he’s afraid of you leaving him all alone.

the relationship definitely an odd pairing according to the public eye. one would assume that you’d be a better fit for someone like rensuke, seishiro or maybe even rin because from the outside it seems as though there’s a dynamic that puts you in a more dominant role. the way bachira so easily clings onto you and finds himself falling asleep in the crook of your neck, solely being lulled into peace from the sound of your voice. he’s incredibly touch starved and often gets restless and agitated when he’s away from you for too long. your touch, your smell, the warmth you produce— it’s like his lifeline.

he is submissive to you in certain aspects, even a bit codependent to a trained eye from the outside looking in, but this wasn't the entire truth.

see, bachira is an brilliant actor and while he does put on a world class performance of being the whimsical, cutesy boy toy— he’s an excellent manipulator. bachira has gotten to a point where does it so we that he doesn’t realize he’s doing it anymore, its altered his sense on reality.

the best way to describe it would be to say there’s a hidden dimension of the relationship that you’re totally unaware of, but he is. bachira is the puppet master and you're his most prized doll. because you’re so nurturing, kind, and naive, you play right into his game every time. you would never suspect your darling, dear bachira to ever do such a thing. in your eyes your sweet boyfriend could never do anything wrong, let alone manipulating you. into what? not leaving him? you know he has some issues to be worked out in therapy, but you've already reassured him countless times that you only have eyes for him and not a soul could change that.

“you know if you ever, ever, ever~ ♡ left me for someone else..” he's breathless in your ear as his hips rut into you from behind but there's so clearly a smile in his voice. if only you could see the unhinged look on his face, but his bicep is wrapped around your neck in a light chokehold. the only thing you can focus on his the headboard in front of you. “i’d kill them— i’d kill them and i'd record it so I could send it to you as a gift. isn’t that romantic?” but little do you know, he actually dead serious. he’d go lengths to assure you’ll never leave his clutches.

“chira— d-on’t say t-things like that.. ah..” you whine, dainty fingers gripping the soft bedsheets underneath you. you're too under the influence of an orgasm to really process his words, for now you think of it as chira being chira. “you feel so.. good..”

“you’re mine— ‘nd you’ll be my bitch forever, yah~ ♡? my pretty princess.. my angel?” he says as he picks up his pace, now chasing his own high as you near your own. the sounds of skin on skin from his pelvis hitting the meat of your ass and the high-pitched moans coming from both you and him were explicit and pornographic.

“always.. always!” the tightening around the base of his cock from your high and your cries are what essentially push him over the edge, making him unload deep inside your hole. the simple implication or rather.. agreement that you'll be his forever was enough for him.

nevermind the aggressive love bites that have sense drawn blood, bachira will just give you that pretty puppy-eyed look and apologize for getting out of hand. he never "means" to, honest. he totally doesn't get the sweet satisfaction of marking what he considers his property.

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whimsyfinny · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 1566

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

——————————————————————

Please Read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 2

The journey to the bunker was pretty uneventful, with Sam and Charlie chatting amongst themselves in the front of the car whilst both myself and Dean sat miserably next to each other in the back like a couple of criminals who’d been arrested. The chains on my handcuffs jangled as I rubbed my sore knuckles; the skin raw, bruised and red from either my own blood or - most likely - Deans. As I did, I could feel a red hot glare burning into the side of my face from the older Winchester, as though he was in disbelief that I even had the audacity to feel any pain or discomfort right now as dark red scabs formed on his nose and cheek. We pulled up next to the bunker, and I didn’t get much chance to look at the surrounding scenery as the moment we were parked, the golden retriever duo up front hopped out, slammed their doors shut and threw ours open, Sam gently yet firmly grasping my elbow and pulling me to my feet whilst Charlie did the same for Dean. We were marched into the building and we soon arrived in what I assumed to be the kitchen. Sam pushed gently on my shoulder, urging me to take a seat at the table to which I obliged with Dean following suit and taking a seat opposite me. We stared each other down from across the table for a few moments, the atmosphere growing thicker by the second as his brilliant green eyes pierced mine.

“Enough the pair of you!” Charlie exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “Look, I’ve got some things to say before we release you both back into the wild. It won’t take long,” she sighed and rubbed her temples. “I wanted to introduce you guys to (Y/n) because I thought you would get along! With your shared interest in hunting, bootcut jeans, rock music and most importantly - pie.”

Dean and I shot each other a quick glance before looking away again. Charlie continued.

“You’ve had one disagreement, and even though I was impressed by the performance it definitely didn’t warrant the carnage. You’re both adults, so act like it and stop bickering like children. You’re going to be living and working together now so you’re both just going to have to suck it up and move on.”

Sam stepped forward; “I agree with Charlie. (Y/n) you have no idea how much of a help you being here is going to be. We’ve been going around in circles for months and we really need a fresh pair of eyes. Plus you get free food and board, if that helps,” he grinned slightly trying to lighten the mood. I humoured him and softened my eyes, raising my eyebrows in acknowledgment to the pros of staying here.

“Right,” he clapped his hands together, “we’re going to remove the tape and you’re both going to be civilised. You promise?”

I gave Dean one final long, hard stare before nodding.

”Good,” Sams soft cool fingers grazed my cheek as he pulled up the corner of the tape, gently peeling it back until it was removed and I could finally take a deep breath. Meanwhile, Charlie approached Dean and in one swift movement ripped the tape from his mouth in under a second.

“FUCK!” He cried out as he tenderly touched his now extra sore swollen lips. I couldn’t help but smirk.

“Right, I’m going to go and get (Y/n)s belongings from the motel room she’s staying in and check her out then I’ll be right back with all her stuff. I’ll see you guys later!” And before I could even protest for her to take me with her, she’d turned on her heel and hightailed it out of the bunker, leaving Sam to undo our cuffs and set us free.

“That bitch,” I sighed, huffing a strand of hair out of my face. Sam knelt before me, that kind look in his eye ever twinkling.

“(Y/n) I promise you that you're safe here. It’s warded to the teeth and full of everything we need to survive. We’ve got you,” he patted my knee before taking my hands in his, using a small key to finally undo the cuffs right before they clattered to the floor. I leant down to pick them up, and by the time I’d sat back up to place them on the kitchen table, he was already beside Dean doing the same for him. His own cuffs removed and rubbing his wrists, he stood, looking from me to Sam a few times before speaking.

“Well I’ve already suffered enough today so I’m going to spend time coming up with a better excuse as to why I look like this,” he gestured to his beaten face and turned to leave, mumbling a quick ‘see ya later’ to Sam before leaving the kitchen. Sam stood awkwardly for a second, before declaring that he was going to get some lunch for everyone and also scurried away, leaving me completely alone in alien territory. I was still sat at the table as I began to look around.

This place was a dump.

How did these grown ass men live in conditions like this? The dirty dishes were piled so high that it was a surprise they hadn’t toppled over yet. Empty beer bottles cluttered the table and countertops, the bin was overflowing with bulging bin bags dumped right next to it without being taken outside and the smell was starting to make me feel a little nauseous. How does Sam expect us all to eat and live together in conditions like this? It was like living with a couple of wild animals. After a few silent moments to myself I released a breath I’d been holding whilst I pondered. I ran my hands through my hair and laughed at myself in disbelief. I’m gonna have to clean the fucking kitchen. Without giving it a second thought and running the risk that I’d change my mind, I scooped my hair into a high ponytail using the bobble on my wrist and pushed up my sleeves, finding a pair of rubber gloves under the sink. Let’s clean this bitch.

In the space of about an hour and a half (a gruelling hour and a half), I’d washed and dried the dishes, putting them away in their respective places, taken out all the trash and lined the bin with a fresh bag, scrubbed and disinfected every surface and had even mopped the floors. The smell of rotting trash was dissipating and the urge to claw off my own skin had gone. I’d propped the mop against the wall and stepped back to admire my hard labour when I heard a door open and close, the entering footsteps heading my way. Sam emerged into the kitchen, a stunned look on his face as he walked to the table slowly, placing about 6 bags of ‘groceries’ on its surface. His mouth opened and closed a few times like he was searching for the right things to say.

“You’re welcome,” I cut in, hoping to help him find his words.

“Yeah, thank you! I’m sorry, I didn't know what to say - you really didn’t have to do this. It’s embarrassing that you were even put in a situation where you felt you had to,” he grimaced a little, only now realising what a horror show it was that they were living in. “But seriously thank you, I really appreciate it,” he smiled and I couldn't help but smile back. Sam was sweet and easy to like - unlike his Neanderthal brother. I felt like I could trust him.

I peeled my gloves off, threw them in the bin and approached the kitchen table where Sam was pulling out a case of beer.

“Here, you deserve one of these,” he said, handing me one. The bottle was nice and cool on my hot fingertips, my warm skin instantly relishing the coldness.

“Thank you,” I smiled before popping the cap and taking a long, well deserved drink. I savoured the moment, genuinely appreciating Sam’s gesture. Although all nice moments comes to an end, and soon Dean was striding into the room bold as brass, seating himself at the table and helping himself to a beer without so much as a hello. It wasn’t until he’d drained half the bottle in one gulp that he realised the kitchen was clean. He grinned and looked at his brother.

“Hey, nice job Sammy! It looks great in here, I owe you one,” he raised his bottle as if making a small toast whilst Sam’s eyes flicked to mine.

“Uh, Dean… this wasn’t me. You need to thank (Y/n) for that,” Deans grin faulted slightly as he looked between the two of us before it returned. I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows in suspicion. His forest green eyes pierced into mine as he almost purred his next sentence.

“Well, Sammy, it looks like we’ve bagged ourselves a maid. Does she cook too?”

I slammed my bottle on the table, much like I did earlier. Only Sam flinched.

“I’m not your fucking maid,” I snarled, resenting that shit-eating grin on the older Winchesters lips. He chuckled, the sound coming deep from within his chest as he rose to his feet.

“Sure thing sweetheart.”

——————————————————————

Taglist: @creative-writing92 @suckitands33

——————————————————————

Up Next:

Chapter 3

#dean x female!reader #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x female!reader #enemies to lovers #Dean Winchester enemies to lovers #eventual smut #slow burn

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bookyeom · 5 months

Text

A/N: Happy New Year, @seungkw1 ! This one’s for you (and for me, let’s be real).

Also, see: Seungkwan’s ‘fit in the live he did with Soobin to get where I was coming from with this. Help.

Snapshoot

Pairing: Seungkwan x Reader Genre: friends to lovers (can’t stop, won’t stop…) Rating: PG (kissing, a single swear maybe) Word Count: 1.8k Warnings: kissing, poor studying habits

You really should be studying.

It’s not your fault you’re distracted, though, not when Seungkwan looks like that.

He’s sitting beside you in the private library room you booked for the two of you, hard at work on his essay that’s due in two days. You should be hard at work yourself, but…

He currently looks like that.

Hair messy from running his fingers through it, reading glasses perched on his nose, wearing his favourite hoodie. A pen resting against his lips as he thinks.

You aren’t sure what prompts you to do it, but soon your phone is in your hands and you’re taking a candid shot. And when you pull up the photo from your ‘recently taken’ album and onto your phone screen, you find it impossible to look away.

He looks so… soft. Cute. Warm. Cosy.

Your eyes move between the picture and the boy beside you, your entire body filled with a fuzzy sort of warmth at the sight before you.

You’ve seen him like this before, sure. He’s your kind-hearted, sarcastic, brilliant friend, and so you've been blessed to see him in all sorts of ways. You’ve seen him on early mornings and through late nights, you’ve seen him drunk out of his mind and performing karaoke as all of the Wonder Girls, you’ve seen him before and after coffee, and before and after shitty exams. Studying together is nothing new, either. You’ve seen him in all of his ways, so of course you’ve seen him looking like this — like the perfect boyfriend. You’ve never dared try and capture it anywhere other than in your mind, though, and now that you have it in concrete form, you aren’t sure what to do with it.

You have a lot of pictures of him. There’s a mix in your phone’s photo album of Seungkwan in all his glory: some of him caught completely off guard, some blurry ones where he’d shot a hand out to try and stop you from taking the picture, some of him laughing so hard his cheeks are flushed a pretty pink. To his dismay, you always joke that you’ll use the funny ones for blackmail one day, but he never actually makes you delete them. You cherish those.

There are also some photos in your phone where he looks like everything you’ve ever wanted — ones where he looks so breathtaking that it hurts. This one you just took is quickly being filed into that same mental folder. It has to be your new favourite, and you’re sure it’s going to be your favourite for a long time to come. And as you continue to stare down at the photo, your eyes tracing over his features, you can’t help but smile down at it.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N.”

Your phone is suddenly being snatched from your hands, and your eyes snap up to meet Seungkwan’s gaze. He raises his eyebrows, your phone dangling between the two of you in his hand, and you resist the urge to grab it like a feral cat.

“What?” You ask, trying to sound nonchalant even though you’re freaking out. Your gaze stays locked on your phone as he holds it up in the air, your eyes following it like a hawk.

“I asked what you were smiling at,” he says. “You were zoning out.”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just—“

You know it’s coming, but it still has you frozen when he inevitably glances at your screen. You watch in horror as his eyebrows raise, he blinks, and then he’s handing you your phone back wordlessly. It remains silent for a minute or two before he speaks again.

“Why were you smiling at a picture of me?”

You’re trapped — there’s no way out now. How are you possibly supposed to answer that? Because you’re the cutest boy I’ve ever seen?

“It’s a good picture,” you finally manage, trying desperately to keep your voice steady.

“It’s not that good.”

His comment comes out much less teasing than you’d expected. You really thought you were in for it. He sounds a lot more serious, and your gaze finds him again in surprise. He’s looking at his computer, but you can tell he’s not really taking in any of the information as he crosses his arms and sits back in his chair. He adjusts his glasses on his nose, and you can hardly breathe.

You don’t think you’ve ever been more embarrassed in your life.

“Jeonghan said you like me,” he finally says, and you suddenly want to sink into the floor.

“Oh.”

He shrugs. “It would be cool if you did.”

“It would be… cool?” You think you probably sound slightly deranged, your voice at least two octaves higher than usual, but you barely register it.

“Yeah.” He shrugs again, and you can only dream of having even an ounce of his nonchalance. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“You wouldn’t mind.” You have to be hallucinating. He’s just stated that he knows you have a crush on him, and he’s saying it’s cool? That’s almost worse than him rejecting you outright. Worse than him ignoring you forever and —

“As long as you don’t mind that I like you too.”

You gape. You actually gape, mouth open like a fish as you process. His eyes meet yours, signature smirk on his lips as he takes in your expression.

“Does that really surprise you?”

“Um. Yeah.”

“Well, it’s true,” he says, smiling amusedly over at you for a moment before he turns back to his computer. You watch in disbelief as he resumes his work as though nothing had happened.

“Are you seriously working again right now?”

Seungkwan nods, eyes moving between his notes and his laptop. “I just need to finish this before we can make out, alright?”

The words coming out of his mouth send a shock straight to your system. Since when is he so fucking smooth?

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for months,” you finally say sarcastically, slumping back into your chair. “Another hour won’t make any difference.” Your tone is dry, and you can feel him look over at you. You suddenly realize what you’ve just revealed, and your eyes squeeze shut. You're expecting him to tease you again but instead, his response comes out filled with confusion.

“Months?”

You freeze. “Hm?”

“Did you say months?”

“…Maybe.”

“How many months?”

You feel your face flush, and your hands lift to cover your eyes, voice muffled when you respond. “Since September, I guess?”

Pause. “Since we met?”

You let out a groan. Now he’s teasing you. “Leave me alone.”

You can hear the smile on his face. “Cute.”

You’re about to cross your arms and let out a childish huff when you’re jolted by the sound of Seungkwan’s chair scraping across the floor, your eyes shooting open. He stands up, moving his chair closer to yours before sitting down again, and the sudden close proximity has you reeling. Then he moves to rest his hand on your thigh.

“Hold my hand?”

The question is soft, quiet, but you hear it. Seungkwan’s eyes search yours, a smile on his lips, and he raises his eyebrows. His palm remains face up on your leg, and you take a deep breath before shyly moving to rest your hand in his. His fingers curl into yours immediately, and then — he’s back to work.

Since when has Seungkwan ever been this chill? About anything?

“Stop looking at me,” he speaks up again after a moment, eyes still on his paper, and you shake your head.

“I can’t.”

He looks at you then, really looks at you for the first time since he’d taken your hand, and you can feel yourself flush even more.

“You can’t what?”

“Stop looking at you.”

You watch as he chews on his bottom lip. You wait, recognizing his silence as thoughtful, and hold your breath.

“Why, though?”

You furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“Are you not bored?” His eyes meet yours again, and you blink in confusion.

His hand is still firm in yours, and you’re silent for a moment before replying honestly, “Trust me, I’ve looked at you quite a few times since I met you, and I’ve never once wanted to look away.”

He searches your eyes, and you can see the surprise that flashes through them. You feel tremendously shy under his gaze, beautiful brown eyes peering at you from behind his study glasses, and you can’t hold strong for much longer. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes fall to the floor.

“Hey,” Seungkwan says, squeezing your hand. “You just said you liked looking at me.” His tone is definitely teasing now.

“I just changed my mind. It’s not as easy when I know you’ll be looking back.”

You can practically feel him smiling. “Come on. Look at me, please?”

You brace yourself before doing what he asks. He smiles when you do, and your breath catches. His gaze is so fond, and you’re about to ask him why when he closes the rest of the distance, his mouth finding yours with ease. You let out a soft, surprised gasp against his lips, eyes immediately falling shut as you melt into him.

“I’m sorry for making you wait,” he murmurs against your lips, voice low.

“Today, or for the last 6 months?” You manage when he pulls back just slightly, cursing the way you’re already breathless just from one kiss. He smiles at your question, his eyes hooded, but he doesn’t offer any verbal response. He simply kisses you again, and every single remaining thought leaves your mind.

He kisses you one more time before settling back into his seat, turning back to his computer. His hand stays on your thigh, and you think you must look like the loading screen of a computer as you try and register what’s happening.

“You know I do it a lot, too, right?”

You tilt your head as his voice breaks you out of your daze. “Hm? Do what?”

“Look at you.”

You feel your cheeks flush. “Oh.”

“You’re very nice to look at, you know.”

You have to be beet red by now. For claiming to not be the overly romantic type, he sure is doing a great job.

“Seungkwan-“

“I’m doing this one more time and then I really, really have to finish this paper.”

You’re about to speak again, to ask more questions, when he pulls you in by your joined hands and kisses you again firmly. This time, his free hand finds your face, his mouth pressed to yours with intent. You let out another involuntary sigh, feeling terribly satisfied when he hums back against your lips.

He pulls back abruptly before letting out a breathy laugh. “You’re done with your work, right? You really might have to leave for the sake of my grades.”

You can’t help but pout. “Rude.”

He grins at that. “I’ll come over to your place as soon as I’m done.”

A/N: please please please reblog if you liked! it’s what us writers rely on :)

TAGLIST: @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @starsstuddedsky@hopeinthebox @tae-bebe @eoieopda @savventeen @wqnwoos

Message me if you want to be added to the permanent taglist!

#Seungkwan x reader #seungkwan fluff #Seungkwan f2l #Seungkwan imagine #Seventeen imagine #seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #my writing #bskficrecs #Bskfic

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semischarmed · 5 months

Text

Danny

Always have to keep you guys guessing ;) so this one is veeeeery different from my normal content, but I figured I’d put something tamer to balance out the upcoming Pt. 2 to that Thread story. It’s a bit long, but I didn’t feel like keeping two concurrent multi-parters. Let me know what you think!

=============

“So, it’s the necklace?” I asked the professor at the university. It was a wonder I was able to keep up with even half of the lecture that had just transpired.

“Something like that.” The professor replied back to our small group. “We’re all just a sea of electrical impulses. With this computer model, we can accurately track and mimic the exact electrical shocks needed to replicate a mind. Of course, the mind is so much data, the transfer-the upload needs to be instantaneous with an equivalent download- the university doesn’t give us enough grant money for computers that can store that much data, much less secure it. So, we needed biological means of storage. That’s why there’s an even number of participants”.

The room was utterly confused. For one, there was definitely an odd number of participants. Dr. Cohn was never known for dumbing down complex concepts, but even the smartest kids in class seemed stumped the past few hours. Maybe he didn’t have to go in that level of depth for his experiment.

Our group was a mix. It seemed like a sampling of the very best of the class, and a few average performers. I did find it weird they offered extra credit to students that probably didn’t need it. Sticking out like a sore thumb was Chad. He was the school quarterback, though no one was sure for much longer, as he was on academic probation. I couldn’t help but speculate with Kat, a top performer, on his placement. Combining our limited knowledge on the students in our class, and the school’s football team, we landed on this being some sort of extra credit that the university probably forced on poor Dr. Cohn. Ever the nosy one, Mackenzie piped in. “Of course they’d try to save their star quarterback. I heard 3 professors already quit trying to bring up his GPA. This is basically his last shot“.

And then there was Danny. Part of that “very best” group. Unlike the other students in the room, he seemed to take in the professor’s whole lecture and was deep in thought. His face lay still, serene. But I could see the intelligence behind his eyes spinning to life. I always liked when he did that, like he was chewing on an idea before spitting out the most brilliant insights. Or maybe I just like how the corner of his mouth would turn up into a small smile when he finished thinking things through. I caught myself staring again, thanking my luck that no one had seen. Mackenzie laughed a little behind me. I sighed, laughing a small defeat. Almost no one had seen.

“So it basically swaps our brains?” Danny inquired. He looked around the room, gauging our comprehension. That was when it clicked for me. He took note and let out a small smile. I smiled back. That was the other thing I liked about the guy. He always seemed to want everyone to succeed. This wasn’t the first time he’d thoroughly condense a difficult topic into a quick word or phrase the class could understand. His eyes smiled whenever he could recognize concepts “clicking” for people and I saw it do the same as my other classmates- even Chad- figured it out. I recoiled a little, from a nudge from Mackenzie. I sighed again, airing a “thank you” her way. I had been staring again.

“No, nothing like that! Could you imagine how difficult an operation like that would be? All this does is swap your mind.” Aaaand just like that, we were back to confusion. Danny smiled though.

“Got it. So your brain’s the hardware, your mind’s the software. The necklaces do a switcheroo and then new hardware, same software- or, vice versa, I suppose.” Back on track.

“Wait, how much of ‘me’ is in the hardware? Like my memories?” I blurted out, immediately growing red. That seemed to have garnered an approving smile from Danny. I grew redder.

The professor’s eyes lit up. “Now you’re thinking like a scientist.” He laughed before shrugging. “Who’s to say… we are running an experiment after all”. Dr. Cohn always was a messy one.

“So, uh, how long is it supposed to last?” Mackenzie asked.

“That’s the fun of it, once we’re paired, the switch can go for as little or as long you as want!” We. That threw me off a little. I caught his glance to Chad. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a part of this experiment too.” The professor said, with a smile that felt too wide. “Don’t forget to record your notes and thoughts into this log book. For privacy, they’ve been password protected- we’ll reconvene this little group in a year and just draft up a summary of your experiences from these books.”

There was an obvious question everyone’s mind. Thankfully, Kevin asked it. “So who’s swapping with who?”

The professor’s eyes lit up in excitement. “We’ve all been paired, randomized of course. I’ll leave the pairings to figure out when they’d want to swap. Just put on your necklaces at 6pm tonight and start your log books. After that, whenever either of you squeezes your necklace, the swap will ensue”. From the way the professor’s eyes kept darting to Chad, something told me it hadn’t been entirely random.

I thought through the possible pairings. Kevin was kind of cute, I guess. Though I wasn’t sure if it was just the airport effect with how limited our group size was. Kat or Mackenzie would just be weird. Mackenzie especially- that girl knows a little too much about me and lord knows what she’d do behind my wheel. Running down the list of people, there was Chad. Of course, who wouldn’t want to be in Chad’s shoes- I had to dispel a dirty thought that passed my mind. Everyone’s probably thinking it. The professor’s body wouldn’t be too bad either, I could always just pressure the faculty into giving me better grades, maybe boost the grades of my friends. And then there was Danny. Danny. My heartrate shot up instantly.

Sitting in my dorm room, I looked at the clock with a bit of fear. “5:55 pm,” it read. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. “5:59 pm”. Nope. There was nothing calm about this. I closed my eyes shut, as I felt the necklace whir a little. Looks like someone else already squeezed it.

Zzzip

=============

“Log book 1:

It was Danny. Holy fuck, I got to be in Danny.”

I stared at the journal entry. That was all I could manage to write with my shaking hands. I could hardly believe it. A lifetime can change in 5 minutes, apparently. My heart was still beating and my face still flushed when we switched back. He had a soccer game so our first meeting had to be short.

My first minute was just looking down at my new Danny-worn hands, breathing through his lungs, inhaling as much as I could of his room. I wanted to commit this man to memory. My logic-or, Danny’s logic perhaps, told me there would inevitably be more swaps to come, but my mind wouldn’t have it. Whatever piece of Danny I could get, however minuscule, I wanted to stretch every moment infinite.

I felt a sense of guilt wash over me, as my new Danny-worn package began to harden when I realized he was in soccer gear. I tried to shake off the feeling- I couldn’t do that to him. Then came the text. I recognized the number of course, it was my old body’s. “Hey man, glad to see we’re partners”. My heart stirred. “It’s Danny, but you probably already knew that”. To see him text me so casually froze me in place. “Anyways, I do have a game coming up, mind if we switch back?” I couldn’t even bring Danny’s hands to answer himself. “I’ll take that as a yes”.

Zzzip

And just like that, I was back. My hand clinging to my chest, breaths ragged.

Wait, Fuck. Was I still hard in his body when we switched back?

=============

Zzzip

“Log book 7:

Met up today. Joint gym day.

Gym feels better in Danny’s body. Unsure if exercise has a different effect on people’s bodies, or if it’s tied to our minds. Seems to be a lag in my emotions.”

I’m not really one to be consistent with exercise. I set the book down, and relocked it, panting as I had in our first switch, but this time due to Danny working my body to the brink.

I think he noticed, because he apologized profusely when I slumped in the bench to catch my breath in the locker room.

I can’t believe I had agreed to it. Danny wanted to test the effects of exercise with different bodies. He stated he wanted to see what it was like doing routine exercises in a different body. Does the body retain that physical memory? Or is it the mind? I only agreed because it was Danny. So, there I was, in the school gym staring at the door like a fish out of water.

I felt a reassuring hand on my back before my ears immediately shot red when I realized whose hand it was. “Do you have your log book on hand? Should probably write down notes immediately after the switchback”. I immediately panicked at thought that he wanted to compare notes, thinking back to my first entry but he seemed to have caught on to my thought process and immediately dismissed the idea. “It wouldn’t make sense to taint the data with outside factors. Danny was probably the only person that fully understood the professor’s entire experiment so I took his word for it.

When we swapped, I had to focus on not instantly growing hard. For someone seemingly so bookish, the guy was surprisingly fit. Walking to the treadmill, I felt every muscle brimming with power. My first run in his body. Euphoric. Danny was a well-oiled machine. Every component moving in tandem. Lungs drawing in and out powerful gusts of air. Eyes staring me in the mirror, furrowed in powerful determination, and legs gliding with a grace that did not diminish the power behind each foot. I lost myself in the exercise, content to just being inside his body, guided by his body. I finished the run with a heavy pant, knowing full well I’d be hard beyond belief at what lay before me. I eyed myself in the mirror, in sweat-laden body of my crush. The scent was indescribable. Like a pleasant musk basking in the damp earth. Was it always this good? Was this how other people felt when they exercised? I twirled the necklace around Danny’s neck, making sure to not squeeze, mentally thanking whatever gods there may be for this experience.

I looked back at Danny, in my body. His running form was a bit clumsy, but there was a confidence in them that I didn’t often see in myself. Maybe a trick of the light, or residual feelings from the run I just had but I was captivated. I honestly looked almost cute like this.

He finished, panting before immediately pulling out his book and writing a few notes. He beamed back at me, pointing at the necklace. Even in my body, that smile was unmistakably his. I smiled back, ready to swap once more.

Zzzip

Weird. I still felt the infatuation. I looked back at the body I had just inhabited, still feeling the butterflies in my stomach. It was Danny so I was used to those, but not immediately after a swap. The past few times it always took a second or two to readjust. Danny looked at me, a bit uncomfortable. No doubt it had been from the grave face I was making. I shook my head, not wanting to worry him. Or worse, force a premature end to this experience. “It’s nothing, just a hell of an exercise haha”.

This may be a bit of a problem.

=============

“Interesting, and you’re sure it’s residual feeling?” Said a slightly disinterested Chad, eyeing his dreamy biceps.

“Yes, when I.. uh.. felt angry in his body and switched back, my body did too.”

“Well it is a swap, of course so your mind returning to its body would feel the same things it felt…” The professor in chad’s body spoke in a slightly faraway tone, like there was something he’d rather be doing. “Though, it shouldn’t be this instant. It’s not physically possible unless…”

I winced, worried for the worst and hoping to remain Danny’s partner.

“This might be a bit of an issue if those necklaces are defective…” He then mumbled something about permanent effects on the mind. “If they are, we’d have to stop the entire experiment. It wouldn’t be right-“ The professor caught a glimpse of Chad’s body in the reflection of his door before looking back at me. “Look, maybe just limit the swaps to low pressure situations, and try to avoid high-emotion situations in case your ‘residual’ hypothesis is correct. Cause if that were true, it would mean you leave a little of yourself every time you swap.”

“Got it, professor”.

“Maybe keep this side effect a little secret for now. We wouldn’t want the others worrying and tainting the data,” Chad’s body spoke in an authoritative tone as his hands sauntered below the desk. “Oh, and please close the door on your way out“.

=============

“Log book 50:

Pain.”

We had been swapping fairly frequently, despite the professor’s warning. Danny was a drug I couldn’t shake. The guy was my kryptonite and he had no idea. Everytime we swapped, every moment we shared, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the professor’s words. Every swap back, I could feel my heart beating as wildly as my first time, stomach churning pleasantly. It was like a wave of sweetness whenever I had a chance to be Danny. Then, the guilt came soon after.

Danny seemed to like the spontaneity. Eventually, we settled on free-switching, aside from classes. Some days, I’d randomly switch and my eyes would focus on my homework, completed with a little smiley face drawn on the corner. I tried that little trick with him once, only to get a text back of his graded assignment, scored uncharacteristically low for the top performer, followed by another text “Nice try anyway lol”

=============

“Log book 190:

I hate you.”

Zzzip

“Danny, is something wrong?” The shock of the situation stopped me from initially processing anything I was seeing. My clumsy hands. I had been fumbling with my collar, when I accidentally initiated a swap. A wave of embarrassment hit, and then anger. Seething, bottomless anger.

I almost dropped the flowers Danny’s body had been handing her. Without explanation, I quickly squeezed the necklace to send me back.

Zzzip

I sat in stunned silence for a second, before the anger drew me back to my thoughts.

Who was I angry at? Of course it was a girl. He had to have been dating around. It was presumptuous to even think we were anything more than partners in a crazed professor’s experiment. And yet, I was still angry. Irrationally angry at Danny for not picking up on the hints, maybe angry at the professor for dragging me into this mess in the first place. But most of all, I was angry at myself.

I felt the buzz of a text, ears still heated. Danny again. “You ok?”

I sighed as reasoning took over and anger transformed into sadness. I wrote a quick note in the log book, then pulled my phone up before texting back. “Yeah”.

“Lol Claudia says hi”, came a text back. I gritted my teeth, not wanting to impart any jealousy in my response, but I was soon stopped by another text.

“If you wanted to meet my sister, you should have just asked lol”.

=============

“Log book 290

I’m stupid. I’m sorry. I’m stupid. I’m sorry.”

I’m so sorry. I said to Danny in my head, as I slumped in my chair. You’re so fucking stupid. I told myself. These past few months swapping back and forth with Danny had been a dream.

From something as simple swapping before brushing his teeth to even taking a class as him. I savored every single moment.

But as the experiment had been drawing to a close, and as I felt my time nearing and my guilt intensifying, other, less kind thoughts bubbled in my head.

What if I did ‘that’ in his body. What if I did it while thinking of my own body. I gulped. Danny didn’t know, and from what I could tell, he hadn’t suspected a thing. “Maybe I could make him like me.” Even just saying it out loud felt like a taboo. I could just imagine Danny’s disapproving face as I pondered corrupting our newfound friendship, and corrupting him at his core.

The devil on my shoulder continued. We’ve been swapping all this time. And he doesn’t notice. My dick stirred. He wouldn’t notice and you could train his body to fall in love with you.

No. No. I couldn’t do that to Danny. I eyed the near approaching date on the calendar- the date the experiment would end- and I gulped again. I pulled up a photo of him.

Darkness gripped at my chest, as I pondered my next step. And then I squeezed.

“Danny, I love you and I’m sorry.”

Zzzip

My heart, or rather Danny’s, began to beat faster and faster. I pulled up a fairly difficult puzzle before I swapped, so I knew I had some time with his flesh before he’d try to swap back.

I gingerly pulled down his shorts, staring at his bulge hungrily. Then I slowly teased out his dick, moaning at the feeling of flesh touching flesh. Being in his body, having this level of access to Danny. I was hard instantly.

It felt almost macabre, seeing his flesh move to my every whim, forced to feel my feelings. I wanted to etch myself into him as much as possible, and with every pump I moaned my original body’s name. It took all of the restraint in Danny’s body, which, apparently was a lot, to not burst. But one can only hold out so long, hearing one’s crush moan their name in delirious ecstasy. I sang my name in his resonant voice one more time, before flashing instantly to my body and back to his.

Zzzip Zzzip

I released his sticky white seed in what felt like the first cum of my life. I suppose, in a sense, it was. I hoped that sealed it. Conditioning Danny to me. The swaps were imperceptibly fast, and I took the lack of delay in emotions as a sign of success.

Zzzip Zzzip

I released a breath in Danny’s body I didn’t know I was holding, basking in the afterglow before immediately realizing what I had just done.

Guilt came out of me drop by drop. As his tears began to leave their marks on his shirt, I slowly began to clean up. The pleasure of the situation still clung to me, as I mournfully switched back. Then came another gut-wrenching wave of sadness. Danny, I’m so sorry.

I looked to the incomplete puzzle in front of me, laughing a little at his lack of progress to ease the sadness.

Then came another text from Danny. “Dude, that puzzle’s impossible”.

=============

“Log book 300:

Food definitely tastes different in a different body.”

“Look, just try them man” Danny said with a smile, holding a fry in his hand. And the necklace in another.

Only a few short days left before the experiment’s end. I made no mention of that night, nor the professor’s words to Danny.

Danny had, in fact, been coming by more often. Prompting more hangouts, initiating more switches. I was elated every time he asked. I even caught a few longer glances from his body, marinating in pleasure at seeing this new side of Danny. However happy I had been, underlying it all was the guilt of my deed.

Danny again held the fry out expectantly. I laughed slightly. “Haha, fine”.

Zzzip

I took a bite from his body. Yep, it was definitely a fry. My own body looked up at me, smiling a Danny-flavored smile before grabbing the half-bitten fry. “Now let’s control for this variable. Same fry,” he said, wiggling it in the air.

Zzzip

I stared at the fry covered in a bit of his saliva. Heaven. I looked back at him and nodded. As we parted ways, I couldn’t help my smile from peeking through.

He was right, it did taste better on my end.

=============

“So, we’re not getting paid”? I asked Danny, as we sat in the table. He had a few wine glasses in front.

It had been a full year since the experiment first started. Despite the general weirdness from the other groups swapping, everyone had been relatively well adjusted. Except for Chad, or whatever he’d be called now. A swapped Kat couldn’t help but spill the beans. Apparently, the professor had no obligation to offer the guy extra credit. He specifically targeted the quarterback for his experiment. What’s worse, he’d apparently created a newer version of the necklace. One that could overwrite and transmit. Chad’s frat brothers mentioned he was offered another credit for participating in a second experiment for this new necklace. After that, no one had seen either person. The pair had mysteriously disappeared, leaving the school scrambling to cover up everything. All most of us knew was one day we suddenly had perfect grades retroactively added for the past year, along with a very scary letter prompting a signature.

“The university isn’t going to do anything about this.” He said. I was still skeptical as I slowly eyed one of the wine bottles that once graced former Dr. Cohn’s shelf. “It’s the least they could do for all those, ethics violations”. He pulled the cork with a satisfying pop, a mischievous gleam in his eye as he handed me a glass. “Now c’mon, try this”.

I suppose alcohol had a way of loosening me up. “So…. we’re not getting paid”? I asked again, sarcastically this time. It had been a year, so talking to Danny felt easy. I thought back to my log book, fully intending on burning the thing. Danny shook his head.

“Hard to put a price on crimes against humanity. Or, something like that” he laughed. “The university just said to dump everything and basically forget that experiment ever happened.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as well. I shrugged, knowing money or even perfect grades for a year held no candle to the experience of a lifetime I just had with Danny. I was afraid of the answer, but it had to be asked. “What should we do with these things?” I asked, looking at the necklace still gracing his beautiful neck. His eyebrows raised as he saw the same necklace gracing mine.

“I mean, by now, you’re pretty used to it, right?” He asked with an almost pleading look in his eye. There was something bugging him. I watched as he fiddled with his feet. “Maybe…” His ears turned bright red. It was riveting finally seeing this side oh him. More than that, it was downright cute. “M-Maybe” he stammered again. Danny took a deep breath to calm himself, though his scarlet face told all. “Maybe we can keep. Um. Swapping. Sometimes, sometimes I like being you, and sometimes I kind of like when you’re me.” He looked at me and smiled weakly, trying to change the subject. “A-Anyway, you need a place to stay next year, r-right? It kind of feels like we’ve already been roommates these past 12 months, what’s another 12?” His sweet words did nothing the dampen the guilt I felt in my betrayal. In any other circumstance, I’d have died happy just hearing that confession from him. Instead I could only think back to the professors words. I did live, at least partially, in Danny throughout this past year. It felt like a betrayal of myself to not come clean.

“Danny, listen. I think I need to tell you first, in your body…” My breath hastened, and I felt my stomach churn. How do you tell a guy what you’ve done with his body- *in* his body? Danny’s face frowned in concern as my bubbling emotions seemed to knock him out of his quick spell of shyness.

He smiled a little. “Look man, whatever you’ve done in my body, I’ve probably done too.” His smile widened. “Your body is mine, my body is yours. Call it even”. More words that would have swept me off my feet, had I not been confessing. More torture ensued.

“I went to the professor about it a few months ago and never told you” I continued. I was practically holding back tears. “Our necklaces were bugged, I think”.

“The professor said…” I gulped. “It was possible that when we switch, our minds don’t come through all at once.” Now tears did begin to swell. “You know how it’s supposed to take a second for your emotions to catch up. Well, when we switch, I still feel the same emotions…”. I gulped. “Since day 1, I think I’ve overwritten your, um, preferences”. Danny’s poker face felt like a dagger in my heart. It’s a face I often made in his body when I was in deep thought, so I knew he had to have been processing to the same conclusion. I could practically see the gear turning in his head. Click.

Face still an enigma, Danny waited a moment and then asked a simple question. “When did you tell the professor?” Click.

I sniffled as I laid it bare in front of him. “5 months ago. Danny, I’m sorry! I dunno, I just thought maybe… maybe if we kept switching, if our minds kept being in each other’s bodies. Maybe if a little piece of how I felt kept lagging behind, you might have-“ Now the gear was fully spinning and I saw the realization hit his face. I had no idea what he was going to do. Punch me? Maybe. Run away in disgust? Likely. Instead, Daniel had done something equally surprising. His hand rested on my shoulder in a reassuring fashion. Then that same hand motioned me forward.

My memory of the next moment felt like a million moments in one. It was something so outside my realm of possibilities, my brain simply couldn’t process. The whiplash hit my senses all at once. Sweet but a bit salty. A moment of quietness before the background sounds of the campus slowly drizzled back in. The scent of fresh laundry and damp earth. My eyes took even longer to adjust from black to red to an image slowly refocussing. Last was my brain, which had been stunned into silence. I sat back in shock, repeating the same phrase over and over in my head. Danny just kissed me.

He laughed, eyes twinkling and mouth pulled into a smile, beaming in the way that always made my heart swoon. “That theory’s bogus. Trust me. I haven’t felt any different”. He smiled again, sheepishly this time, before fishing something from his backpack’s large pocket. He looked at the item in front of him, hand slightly shaking in hesitation before making his decision. Slowly, he held up his own log book, flipped to the very first page:

“Log Book 1:

<3 ”

=============

#Male body swap #body swap

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