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soobmint · 4 years

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voices | choi beomgyu [f] soulmates! au, 14.2k words

s u m m a r y : after seeing your soulmate for the first time (whether in passing or by actually meeting them), you are able to hear their voice in your head—but only when they are singing. you have never been very interested in finding love, and choi beomgyu has lost all interest in singing. what happens when the two of you begin to change one another’s minds about the things you wish to avoid more than anything else?

c o n t e n t s : soulmates au, strangers to sorta enemies to lovers, guitarist! gyu, freckle gyu, college au, yeonjun is your best friend, gyu is a brat but a cute brat, very fluffy, a tiny bit of light angst

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld @chanluster @honeyju @magicalstellar @yeonjuniper (if you’d like to be added to the taglist for future oneshots, please let me know!)

n o t e : this was requested by my dear friend alice, and i hope i did the request justice! the lyrics used in the oneshot are from genius’ english translation of “runaway.” i hope you guys enjoy the oneshot, and do kindly leave a like, comment, or reblog if you enjoyed it! that would mean the world!

YOU MET CHOI BEOMGYU THE DAY YOU SWORE TO NEVER FALL IN LOVE.

As dramatic as it sounded, the day hadn’t been quite so terrible. You were sitting cross-legged in the floor of one of the many practice rooms in your university’s music department with a bag of popcorn in your lap, your head leaned back against the wall as you stifled back a yawn. Your best friend, Yeonjun, was going on and on about his most recent breakup, but the story was so similar to all the other breakups he had gone through in the past two years that you were having a difficult time staying focused. The afternoon sunlight trickled in through the windows, reflecting off the symbols of the drum set that rested in the far corner. You scooted to the side a bit so that the light wouldn’t shine in your eyes anymore as Yeonjun paced back and forth in front of you.

“And then she just stopped talking to me,” He said, running his hands through his hair. “Out of nowhere too! Things had been going so well, but then it was weird. Next thing I know, she’s breaking up with me—get this—over text.”

You tossed a piece of popcorn into your mouth. “Tragic.”

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but yes, it was tragic.” He finally stopped pacing and collapsed to the ground beside of you, leaning his head against your shoulder. “Love is so hard. You meet someone, you think it’s going to work and that you’ll spend a long, happy life together. Next thing you know, you’re single and stuck with your best friend in a stinky music room, waiting for some club meeting to start—or whatever it is we’re in here for.”

“We’re here because we are in charge of organizing the music and theater departments’ performance at the open house next month,” You corrected, flicking his forehead. “And didn’t you only date this girl for like, a week?”

He sighed, sitting up to glare at you. “Love knows not the boundaries of time, my dear friend. You’ll understand once you find it for yourself.”

“Calm down, Shakespeare. I am not falling in love.”

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t think you have any control over that,” He said with a teasing smile. “But why wouldn’t you want to?”

You scoffed, turning to stare at him. “Well, for starters, you haven’t exactly given me a good idea of what ‘love’ is supposed to be, seeing as you’re crying about another ‘true-love-gone-wrong’ every three weeks. Why on earth would I want that for myself?”

“Hey, love is different for everyone,” He said. “Just because my love life is vibrant and exciting and full of various names and faces doesn’t mean the same will happen for you.”

“How do you predict my love life will go, then?”

He hummed, tapping his finger against his chin in thought. “Well, you’re pretty boring, so you’ll probably be the kind of person that waits until they find their soulmate, then you’ll settle down and live a long, safe and uneventful life with them.”

“Shut up,” you said as you shoved him, but you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. “I think my soulmate is out of the question, though.”

Yeonjun frowned. “You still haven’t heard him since back then?”

You sighed, shaking your head as you leaned back against the wall. “Not a thing.”

It was quiet then as the two of you thought about what this meant. It wasn’t the first time you had been faced with the reality of your situation, but it still felt like a punch to the stomach every time.

In a world where people waited years, decades even, to hear the voice of their soulmate singing in their head, you had been considered extremely lucky to have heard the gentle voice of a boy in your mind at the age of thirteen. You knew that you had to have met him somewhere—at least in passing—in order to hear him, but you had no clue who he was.

Yet, in a way, it felt like you did. He sang often—so often you wondered if singing was as necessary as breathing to him. It wasn’t a bother to you though; in fact, it was quite the opposite. The songs he sang always told a story; some spoke of love and joy, others off loss and heartache. You felt like each song he sang held a piece of him, and that piece was something that was shared just between the two of you.

Until his voice was gone.

It was rare for him to go a day without singing. Yet suddenly, in your sophomore year of college, days and weeks went by without a single note, and you had yet to hear his voice since.

Your soulmate had stopped singing, and it was difficult to not imagine that the worst had happened.

Yeonjun must have noticed the solemn look that came over your face, because he leaned over and gave your shoulder a squeeze. “Don’t be so gloomy,” he said. “He could still be out there.”

You smiled the best you could, although the pit in your stomach remained. “Yeah, I guess he could.” You tossed the popcorn to Yeonjun and stood to your feet, wiping the crumbs from your hands. “Wait here, okay? The other guy that’s supposed to be helping us is—” You paused to glance at the time on your phone, “—ten minutes late. I’m gonna make sure he knows where to come or see if he’s lost or something.”

Yeonjun nodded, helping himself to what was left of your snack. “Who is the other guy, anyway?”

You sighed, picking up the piece of paper that the department head gave to you when she asked you to organize the showcase, claiming that it would be a great deal of experience for you to acquire in your senior year of university.

You were mostly doing it for the extra credit points.

You began to read the names of the seniors that were in charge of organizing the project listed at the top of the paper. “From the drama department, Choi Yeonjun and Kang Taehyun.”

“Taehyun had an appointment,” Yeonjun said through a mouthful of popcorn. “He’ll be here tomorrow.”

You nodded, tracing your finger along the page, stopping beneath the next pair of names. “From the music department, Y/N and Choi Beomgyu.” You looked up from the paper, tapping your forefinger against your chin. “Choi Beomgyu? Do you know him?”

Yeonjun pondered for a moment before snapping his fingers. “Ah—that guy!” You weren’t surprised; Yeonjun seemed to know everyone in the performing arts programs at your school. “He’s one of the top guitar students, if I’m remembering correctly. Have you not heard of him?”

You shook your head, looking back down at his name. Choi Beomgyu. It did sound familiar, but no images or information came along with the words printed on the page. It was nothing more than a tugging feeling in your stomach that made you feel like you knew him from somewhere.

You began walking towards the door, still staring down at the paper. Just as the tips of your fingers brushed across the metal handle, the door swung open, and you barely had time to glance up and see a head of fluffy black hair and big brown eyes before the door crashed into your forehead so hard you fell backwards to the tile floor.

With a hiss, you brought your hand up to your forehead, relieved to find a lack of blood there. Your eyes were blurred with tears, but through the fog you were able to see the same round doe eyes you had caught a glimpse of before you hit the ground.

“Are you okay?” It was a guy’s voice, clear and ringing in your ears. You rubbed your eyes to clear some of the moisture and were then able to get a better look at the boy in front of you. Curly black bangs hung over his brows, brushing just over the tops of his wide chocolate eyes. His sun-kissed skin was sprinkled with a light spatter of freckles across his nose and lightly flushed cheeks.

You blinked several times before responding. “Y-yeah, I’m okay.” You accepted his hand when he offered to help you stand back up, and soon, you were on your feet once more.

“Sorry about that,” he said, brushing a hand through his already tousled hair. He leaned forward a bit, tapping his finger against your forehead. “Just got a tiny bump, though. You’ll be okay.”

You backed away from his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice as he had caught sight of Yeonjun. Your best friend was quite literally on the edge of his seat, perched on the ledge of the desk while shoveling the last crumbs of popcorn into his mouth as if this were some movie unfolding before his eyes. If you had been close enough, you would have hit him.

“Yeonjun?” Door Boy’s face lit up, and he strode over to give your pink-haired friend a high five. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Hey, man,” Yeonjun said with a grin, ruffling Door Boy’s curly hair with his fingers. “I know, it’s been way too long.”

“I’m sorry, who’s this?” You asked, still a bit dazed from your unexpected collision with the door.

Yeonjun looked back at you, gesturing to the newcomer. “Oh, this is—”

“Choi Beomgyu,” he finished the introduction himself, giving you an overdramatic bow as he said his name. “And you must be Y/N?”

Things were beginning to click together in your head: Door Boy was Choi Beomgyu. In other words, Door Boy was your assigned partner—the one you would be spending the next four weeks trying to plan a performance with.

For some reason, the fact that you had met one another by him slamming a door into your face didn’t leave the best feeling in your chest.

“I look forward to working with you, Y/N.” He gave you a big, lopsided grin, one that any other person would likely find heartwarming.

You forced a smile in return, rubbing your hand across the bump on your forehead. “Same here, Choi Beomgyu.”

PERHAPS IT HAD A BIT TO DO WITH HOW POORLY YOUR FIRST MEETING WENT, BUT SOMETHING ABOUT BEOMGYU REALLY GOT UNDER YOUR SKIN.

The day after you had first met one another, Yeonjun had asked everyone to meet up in the coffee shop inside the campus library. This time, Taehyun from the drama department was also able to be there. You had gotten to know him pretty well over the past four years because of how close he and Yeonjun had become, so the three of you hung out often.

In fact, for the first fifteen minutes of the meeting, it was just the three of you sitting there. You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek in agitation before taking another sip of your coffee. “Does this Beomgyu guy have a thing for being late?”

“Relax, Y/N,” Yeonjun said absently from across the table, his attention focused primarily on his cell phone screen. “Not everyone’s a time freak like you.”

“Time freak—What does that even mean?” You crumpled up the wrapper from Taehyun’s straw and threw it at Yeonjun. “Unlike you, I actually care about getting these extra credit points and would like to organize this event properly.”

“Hey! I care!” Yeonjun placed a hand over his heart, as though he had been wounded.

You and Taehyun exchanged a side glance with one another, eyebrows raised.

“Stop looking at each other like that! I do care!”

Before the point could be argued any further, a messy-haired boy crashed into the seat beside of you, out of breath, his backpack falling from his shoulder and onto the ground from the impact. You stared at him for a moment before realizing that it was Beomgyu.

“Sorry—I’m late,” he said in between deep breaths. “On my way here—saw one of the campus cats—got distracted.”

You stared at him again, almost laughing at how ridiculous of an excuse that was. However, considering what little you knew of Beomgyu, the thought of him being fifteen minutes late to a meeting because he got distracted by a cat didn’t seem all that unlikely. With a sigh, you slid a blank piece of notebook paper towards him and set a pen on top of it. “It’s all good. Mind taking notes?”

He nodded—a bit too enthusiastically, if you were to say so yourself. “Sure. Can I grab a coffee real quick?”

You were about to suggest that he should wait until after the meeting, since the three of you had been there for such a long time already, but Taehyun chimed in before you could say anything with, “Of course. We’ve got nowhere else to be.”

It took everything within you to not roll your eyes. You were usually on the same page as Taehyun, but of course, this situation had to be an exception, because Choi Beomgyu was there.

The slacker was rummaging around his backpack, searching for something. He pouted, looking up from his bag. “I forgot my wallet.”

“No worries! Y/N doesn’t eat breakfast, so she always has an extra swipe on her meal card,” Yeonjun said from across the table. Your mouth fell open, eyes wide as saucers. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind letting you use it. Right, Y/N?”

You weren’t quite sure that you did want Beomgyu to use your meal card, but what kind of jerk would you be if you said no? With gritted teeth and a glare at your best friend, you fished your meal card out of your wallet and placed it into Beomgyu’s open palm.

The pout left his lips instantly, a big grin taking its place. “Thanks. I’ll return the favor sometime soon.”

Doubt it, you thought, watching him rush towards the counter to order. You’ll probably forget you said that by the time you get your drink.

Soon he was back at the table, caramel latte in hand, your meal card back in your possession. You cleared your throat, shifting in your seat. “If everyone’s ready, we can go ahead and get started. I met with my professor yesterday—she’s also the head of the classical music department. She’s technically our ‘overseer,’ but all the responsibility of planning the performance is on us. We’ll only have about forty minutes total to showcase the drama and music departments, so we need to choose our sets wisely.”

“Yeonjun and I were talking a bit about this earlier,” Taehyun said. “We’ve been preparing for our winter show since the beginning of the summer, so we figured we could just perform a scene from the play.”

You nodded, liking the idea. “That sounds perfect. What’s the play?”

“A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

“Right, I knew that. Could you guys work on finding a scene around ten or fifteen minutes long to perform for the open house, then?”

Yeonjun and Taehyun both nodded. You smiled, glad that you were finally starting to get some things together for the event.

When you glanced at Beomgyu to make sure he had written that down, the smile left as quickly as it had come when you saw that he was doodling tiny flowers and hearts all over the page rather than taking notes.

He must have felt your eyes on him, because he glanced up and caught your gaze. Seemingly unbothered, he simply smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I was just about to write it down.”

Your fingers itched to reach over and take the pen and paper from him so you could just do it yourself, but you kept your composure. “Beomgyu. Any ideas for what the music department could do?”

He finished writing down Drama Department—Scene from “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” before looking at you again. He shrugged, another nonchalant smile spreading across his face. “Not really. I’m down for whatever it is you decide to do.”

“Wow, helpful. Truly.” Your eyes went wide when you realized you had said those words out loud after Yeonjun and Taehyun began to snicker beside you. Your face flushed with embarrassment, but Beomgyu seemed unphased, that careless lopsided grin of his still on full display.

You sighed, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “Well, I was thinking about having the orchestra do a piece, and then having one of the student bands do a piece. That way we have something classical and something more contemporary. Thoughts?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Taehyun said. “If we do our scene first, the orchestra could kind of act as a bridge between Shakespeare and more modern art.”

“I agree,” Yeonjun said. “And since Y/N is in the orchestra, she can get in touch with the director and have them prepare something. Oh, and Beomgyu!” The curly-haired boy looked up from his doodling when his name was called. “You know a few different bands, right? Think you could piece together a group of performers?”

“Definitely,” Beomgyu said. When he noticed your eyes on him, he quickly scribbled down Orchestra—Y/N. Band—Beomgyu Me.

“Well, since we all have our first tasks, I guess that’s all for today.” You were happy that the meeting was over; you were ready to get back to your dorm so you could get to work and actually get things done.

“Wait!” Beomgyu said as you stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

Now you have something to say. You raised a brow at him expectantly.

“We should exchange phone numbers, right?” He smiled, standing up and holding his phone out towards you. “I have the others’ numbers, but I figure I should be able to contact my partner from the music department.”

You hesitated, but knew there was no logical reason why you shouldn’t give him your number. You were going to be working together for the next several weeks, after all.

After putting your number in, he took his phone back and grinned at you again, eyes scrunching up into crescent moons. “Perfect! I’ll try not to bother you too much, but I make no promises.” He reached forward and ruffled your hair, and you were too caught off guard by the sudden touch to back away, or to even react at all. He then waved at all three of you, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “See you guys tomorrow then.” He turned towards you again, throwing you a casual wink that still managed to have you flustered. “I’ll be in touch, partner.”

You turned to watch him leave, face warm as you brushed through your hair with your fingers, trying to undo the damage your “partner” had done.

Something told you that he wouldn’t be keeping his promise about trying not to bother you anytime soon.

OVER THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, BEOMGYU PROVED HIMSELF TO BE ONE OF THE MOST BOTHERSOME PEOPLE YOU HAD COME ACROSS IN A LONG, LONG TIME.

The worst part was the fact that he didn’t do anything blatantly wrong. He did everything he was asked to do when it came to preparing for the showcase. The first week of work consisted of the two of you gathering all the students who would be participating in the performances, along with Yeonjun and Taehyun preparing those from the drama department. Beomgyu performed all of his tasks just as he was asked to do, so it wasn’t as if he was bothering you by being unhelpful.

It was just something about the way he held himself that seemed to get under your skin for no apparent reason.

For the past week, your “partner” had basically been a tagalong—he would stand beside of you and do what he was asked without contributing much to the creative process of planning. You found it hard to criticize him up front, as he just did as he was told.

However, that was all he did. When the four of you would all sit down together to discuss plans or ideas, Beomgyu’s role never changed: he would sit beside all of you, jot down anything you told him to in his nearly-full composition notebook, and crack an occasional joke that would always send Yeonjun and Taehyun into fits of laughter, but only earned a stiff, forced smile from you.

You were starting to wonder why your professor had assigned him to your team. After all, putting on this open house was your last shot at making a lasting impression on the higher ups in your department. Everything needed to be perfect; mediocracy was not an option.

In other words, Choi Beomgyu needed to step up his game, and he needed to do it quickly.

You thought about this on the day of your first rehearsal, where all of the students who would be participating in the performances had gathered in the main auditorium of the music building.

Drama students were scattered in all directions, occupying the space around them with dramatic line readings and critiques for their classmates as they practiced their roles. Yeonjun and Taehyun were busy taking charge of the drama students, making sure everything was running smoothly amongst them. You watched as Kai, one of the freshman students Yeonjun had taken under his wing, followed your friends around like a baby penguin waddling after its parents, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

Music students were spread across the stage, the orchestra setting up instruments and covering stands with sheets filled by notes and lyrics while the band tuned their guitars and plugged up their mics. Soobin, a tall, blue-haired student from the same year as you, waved at you from stage with his mic in hand. You waved back, happy that you had been able to snag him as the main vocalist for the band’s performance—his voice was angelic, able to captivate any listener.

“Hey.” You turned at the sound of the voice you had begun to grow quite accustomed to, whether that was for better or for worse. Beomgyu was standing beside of you, brushing a hand through the curly black bangs that hung just above his eyes. The tip of his nose was flushed pink, a sign that he had likely just been out in the biting cold that had begun to creep up as fall quickly approached. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder and his guitar case held in one hand.

“Running a little late, aren’t we?” You asked, glancing at the time on your phone with no attempt at hiding your frown. “Is this going to be a trend with you, Choi Beomgyu?”

He laughed, nudging his shoulder against yours. You wanted to be more irritated with him than you were, but he had the kind of laugh that put everyone around him at ease; the kind of laugh that filled one’s chest with warmth, as if you had been directly touched by a ray of sunlight reaching down from the sky.

So you settled with being only slightly irritated, pursing your lips to keep your expression in check as he responded with, “What fun would it be if everyone was on time?”

“It’s not about fun, it’s about making sure this whole thing runs smoothly,” you said as you turned to face him. “Speaking of which, since you didn’t have any suggestions, I went ahead and helped the band choose a setlist. They’ll only have time for two songs, but the ones I picked are really diverse and should be—”

“Ah!” He cut you off, snapping his fingers in front of your face, causing you to flinch back in surprise. “I knew there was something I forgot to tell you.”

“What?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, grinning as he shifted a bit closer to you. You could smell his cologne—a misty citrus scent that was so light you could barely tell it was there. “Well, it’s kind of embarrassing, but the professor actually wanted the band to perform one of the songs I wrote. If that’s okay with you, of course—you’re the boss, after all.”

“You—you write songs?” You asked, trying not to get irritated at the sudden disruption of what you had planned. He had been complacent this entire time, so of course, the time he actually had something to contribute, he would be messing up what you had already set in place.

“Well, if it’s a suggestion from the professor, I can’t just deny you permission, can I?” You said with a forced laugh. “Do you have the—”

“Sheet music?” He finished your sentence, shaking a stack of papers in front of you. “Right here, partner. Want me to go tell the band?”

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure. Just tell them to switch the second song I had picked out with this one.”

He smiled at you again, ruffling your hair with the same hand he held the papers in. “You’re a saint. I’ll talk to you in a bit then?”

You had no time to respond before he was setting off towards the stage to talk to the band, papers and guitar in hand. You huffed through pursed lips, mumbling under your breath as you tried to put your hair back in place.

“What was that all about?” You dropped your hands to your sides when Yeonjun approached you, eyebrow quirked. Half of his cotton-candy colored hair was pulled into a ponytail, and he had on a pair of big round glasses with what you knew to be fake lenses—a fashion statement rather than a necessity.

“I don’t think Beomgyu knows much about personal boundaries or personal responsibility,” you mumbled, allowing Yeonjun to come up and finish fixing your hair with his fingers. “He decided to just now tell me that our professor wanted the band to use one of his songs in the performance.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I just—” You hesitated, unsure of how to respond without sounding like a jerk. “I just wish he would have told me about it sooner. That’s all.”

“Y/N, you need to cut the guy some slack,” Yeonjun said, stepping back once he was finished fixing up your hair. “You act as though you have a personal vendetta against him or something.”

“I do not,” You argued, feeling you defenses flare up at his words. “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, maybe because every time he walks in the room you start to grimace, and every time he talks to you I can literally feel the amount of energy it takes for you to not roll your eyes.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“If you say so.” He put his hand on your shoulder, giving you a stern look that did, in fact, make you roll your eyes. “Give him a chance, Y/N. You may end up liking him more than you’d expect.”

You scoffed as your best friend walked away from you, returning to work on his previous tasks with Taehyun. A vendetta? Was it really that obvious to the people around you that Beomgyu got under your skin?

Perhaps Yeonjun was right—you did have a tendency to be extra sensitive when it came to your academic responsibilities. Maybe you were being too hard on Beomgyu; his goal was the same as yours, even if his methods differed drastically from yours.

You looked up to the stage to see Beomgyu laughing as he said something to Soobin, the rest of the band analyzing the sheets of music in their hands—Beomgyu’s song, if you had to guess. His skin glowed like honey beneath the stage lights, and you noticed that when he laughed, he laughed with his entire body; his eyes disappeared into crescents, his shoulders shook, he clapped his hands together and even stomped his feet a bit. You smiled slightly at the sight, before a pang of guilt hit you.

He did seem like a nice guy. It was time you gave him a chance to be seen as such in your eyes.

ANY PATIENCE YOU HAD DESPERATELY TRIED TO HOLD WITH BEOMGYU WAS WEARING THIN, AND IT HAD ONLY BEEN AN HOUR SINCE YOU DECIDED TO GIVE HIM A CHANCE.

You had both stayed behind with Yeonjun and Taehyun to clean up the auditorium after the practice. “I think that we’re done, don’t you?” You asked everyone after picking up a few discarded sheets of paper left behind by the drama students.

“Almost,” Beomgyu said from the stage. You looked up at him to see him pointing at two large music stands left behind by the orchestra. “Someone left these behind.”

“Can’t we just leave them there?” Yeonjun asked.

Taehyun shook his head. “No, we were given specific instructions to not leave anything behind.” He glanced at his phone. “They’re about to close the building for the night, so we should hurry and put them up.”

“I know which room they came from, so I can take them back,” Beomgyu offered.

“They’re pretty heavy, Beomgyu. Are you sure you can carry them on your own?” Taehyun asked.

“Yeah, it’s fine—”

“No, no, someone should definitely help you. You have to carry your guitar too,” Yeonjun interjected, a mischievous glint in your eyes that sent sirens blaring in your head. The feelings of disdain only grew when Yeonjun made eye contact with you directly, seeming to give you a sweet smile, but you knew the expression was laced with ulterior motives. “Y/N, why don’t you carry one while Beomgyu carries the other?”

You wanted to smack him, but that wouldn’t have been a good look for you, considering that everyone already thought you hated Beomgyu anyways. You glanced up at him on the stage to see that he had already picked one of the stands up, his guitar in the other hand. He gave you a big grin, eyes sparkling like freshly fallen snow. “What do you say, partner? Care to give me a hand?”

You pushed your tongue against the inside of your cheek, knowing that there was no way you were getting out of this one. “Sure,” You said through your teeth, glaring daggers at Yeonjun before making your way up the steps to the stage. The music stand wasn’t too heavy, so you almost dared to ask Beomgyu to try carrying them both in one hand, but decided against it.

“We’ll go ahead and leave then,” Yeonjun said, throwing a taunting wink your way. “You two have fun.”

You hate to bite your tongue to keep from cursing at him as Yeonjun and Taehyun left the auditorium, leaving you alone with Beomgyu for the first time. You glanced his way, noticing that he already had his eyes on you. Instead of averting his gaze when yours met his, he just smiled wider, gesturing towards the door with his head. “Shall we?”

You forced another smile. “Lead the way, partner.”

You followed him out the doors and up the stairs to the first floor, where the orchestra’s practice room was located. You were very familiar with the area, being a violinist yourself. When the two of you reached the room, you rushed forward to open the door, as Beomgyu’s hands were full. He thanked you and stepped inside first, and you followed suit, letting the heavy door swing shut behind you.

“Where should we set them?” He asked.

You nodded to the far corner of the room. “Over there.”

The two of you set the stands down, and you instantly turned back towards the door, ready to get back to your dorm for some alone time after such a taxing day.

“In a rush?” Beomgyu asked from behind you.

You turned to look over your shoulder at him as your hand grasped the doorknob. “Nah, just tired. Aren’t you?”

He shrugged, shifting his guitar case from one hand to the other. “Not really.”

“Lucky you,” You mumbled, turning back towards the door. “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow—”

You stopped mid-sentence, heart dropping to your toes. When you tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t move. After a moment of shock, you tried again, and then again, violently shaking the knob, trying to get the door to open.

“No, no, no,” You said, shaking the handle desperately. “Come on, this can’t be happening!”

“What is it?” Beomgyu asked, setting his guitar on the floor before rushing to your side.

“The door won’t open.” You shook the knob more frantically than ever, the entire door shaking from the force.

“Woah, easy there, partner,” Beomgyu said, gently placing his hand on your arm. “Why don’t you let me try to—”

“What exactly do you think you’re going to be able to do differently?” You snapped, snatching your arm away from him. His mouth hung open, eyes wide with what you assumed to be shock. “We’re stuck in here, Beomgyu. We’re stuck, and we’re not going to get out for god knows how long, and with you as my ‘partner,’ I’m one hundred percent certain we’re not going to be able to find a way out of here on our own.”

You could tell that your words struck a nerve with him by the way his shoulders tensed and how his eyes went narrow. Looking back, you wished you could reel the words back in, but they had already done their damage.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He asked, his voice low and thick with irritation.

It was your turn to be shocked. “What?”

“I said, why do you hate me so much?”

You blinked rapidly, feeling exposed and vulnerable now that he was confronting you. “I don’t—I don’t hate you, Beomgyu.”

He scoffed, pulling his bottom lip under his teeth. “Come on, I’m not that much of an idiot. This entire time, from the moment we first met, you’ve been cold and snippy with me. You can barely hide how much you dislike me with your facial expressions. I thought maybe we just got off on the wrong foot, so I’ve been brushing it off and treating you kindly. But you still treat me like I’m some annoying fly that you can’t quite get rid of, and I want to know why.”

“That’s not—I don’t hate you,” You repeated, jumbling your words together as you struggled to figure out what to say.

“Well, what’s the issue then?”

“You don’t take anything seriously!” Your voice wasn’t quite a shout, but it was almost there. Beomgyu took a step back, arms dropping to his sides.

“You’re treating this entire thing like it’s an elementary school play,” You continued, your voice getting louder and your words coming out more and more rushed the more you spoke. “You don’t contribute in the meetings, you show up late, and you barely do the things I ask you to do. I understand it may not be anything special to you, but this is my last chance to do something memorable here. I’m graduating in the spring, and up until this point, I’ve been nothing but another violinist tossed in the orchestra. I don’t stand out to my professors, or to scouts, to anyone.”

Hot tears began to well in the corners of your eyes as thoughts of your mother surfaced. Every word she had ever said about your pursuit of music being a waste of time, of how little a chance you had of making it, how your only hope was to stand out in the department, which, of course, she highly doubted you would be capable of doing.

“I have to do this, and I have to do it right.” Your voice wavered as you swiped at your cheeks, where a few tears had fallen. “If I don’t, then I’ll—I’ll—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Beomgyu’s voice was gentle, in stark contrast to the razor-sharp tone he had held just seconds before. You looked at him through your teary eyes to see that his own eyes were wide, this time with concern rather than anger. “You don’t have to explain, I understand, okay? I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You sniffed, more tears gliding down your cheeks as you did so. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” He repeated, looking as though he were about to start crying himself. “I had no idea that’s how I was coming across. I’m really, really sorry.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. How were you supposed to respond to that? The last thing you expected to hear from him was an apology, especially since, now that you had yelled at him, you realized how unfair you were being towards him. You shook your head, wiping furiously at your eyes. “No, you don’t have to apologize Beomgyu. I should be apologizing—I’m the one being irrational, not to mention I’m also the one that locked us in here—”

“How about we just call it even then, hm?” He cut you off, looking around before he spotted a box of tissues on the front desk. He grabbed one and made his way back over to you, gently wiping the tears from your face, being careful to not touch you directly. “We’ve both apologized for something that the other person doesn’t think requires an apology. The grounds are neutral now.”

You laughed, gently taking the tissue from his hand so you could wipe your eyes on your own. He stepped back when you did so, smiling nervously at your sudden laughter.

“Thank you, Beomgyu,” You said quietly, wadding the tissue up in your hand.

He rubbed the back of his neck, rocking back and forth on his feet. “No need to thank me, Y/N.” He paused, seeming to be in deep thought. It was quiet for a moment before he stuck his hand out towards you, expression cautiously hopeful. “Now that we both understand each other a little better, do you think we could start over?”

You smiled, wrapping your hand around his to give it a firm shake. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

THE WORLD ALWAYS SEEMED COLDER WHEN YOU WERE ALONE.

Of course, it could have felt cold because you were alone in a hotel parking lot, sitting on the cool pavement in the late hours of the night. You hadn’t brought a jacket with you, and your dress was sleeveless and made of thin fabric that didn’t do much to protect you from the wind that sent strands of hair flying across your face.

However, you were certain that if your mother or father had been sitting beside of you that early winter’s night, you would barely even notice the bite of the wind or the goosebumps that prickled up all over your bare arms. Even the stars had denied you their company; the sky was pitch black, void of any trace of light.

Lower lip trembling, you sighed as you kept your gaze on the sky above, thinking that maybe, if you kept looking, you’d find a single star shining amidst the darkness. Tears filled your eyes, but you wiped them away before they could fall.

“You’re a strong girl, Y/N,” Your mother would say if she were to catch you crying. “Strong girls don’t cry, do they?”

“No,” You whispered, even though she wasn’t there to hear you. “Strong girls don’t cry.”

“What do you mean?”

You jumped at the sudden voice, placing your hand over your heart before you turned your head to see a boy sitting on the pavement beside you. He had curly black hair that stuck out from beneath a beanie, covering the top of his eyes, and a big jacket on over his clothes. He seemed to be the same age as you, but of course, you couldn’t be sure.

“W-what?” You spoke through shaking lips, pulling your arms around yourself in an attempt to stay warm.

“You said that strong girls don’t cry,” He said, eyeing you with curiosity. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh,” you whispered, looking down at your shoes—a pair of black flats with scuff marks all over the toes. “It’s nothing— just something my mom says.”

He hummed, leaning back on the palms of his hands. “Well, I think she’s wrong. Everyone cries, even the strongest people alive. If someone tells you they don’t cry, then they’re lying.” He turned towards you, a big grin on his face. “You don’t seem like a liar to me.”

You sniffled, wiping your hand across your cheeks to catch the few tears that had managed to slip down. “Thanks, I think.”

“It was definitely meant as a compliment.” He sat up straight then, narrowing his eyes at you. You shrunk back a bit, shoulders shaking as the wind only seemed to get stronger by the second.

A moment later, he was sitting right beside of you, so close that his arm brushed against yours as he slipped his coat off, revealing an oversized hoodie beneath it. He wrapped the coat around your shoulders, and zipped it up, trapping your arms inside. He smiled again and sat back, but he was still close to you, so close that your shoulders were pressed together and his pinky was resting on top of yours.

Eyes wide, you slowly shook your head and slipped your arms through the sleeves so you could reach the zipper. “No, I’m okay—”

“Hey, keep it on, please,” He interrupted, placing his hand on top of yours to stop you from unzipping the coat. “It’s freezing out here, and you don’t even have any sleeves.”

You hesitated, not wanting to be a bother to this unexpectedly kind stranger, but you would have been lying if you had said that the cold wasn’t starting to bother you. Not wanting your lips to turn blue, you nodded, pulling your arms back into the coat to keep them extra warm.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “What are you doing out here, by the way?”

“Me? Oh, I was just sneaking out to the indoor pool.” He pointed over his shoulder at the building with a large dome roof made of glass. “My parents are already asleep and didn’t notice me leave. You?”

“Ah, well, my family is staying here for the night. My parents and I are going out for dinner to celebrate my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” He asked, eyes growing wide. You nodded sheepishly and his smile grew bigger before he reached over to ruffle your hair with his hand. “Happy birthday!”

You giggled, smoothing your hair back down when he pulled his hand away. Your eyes met his, which seemed to sparkle with the light of billions of galaxies, paired perfectly with his beaming smile, and you realized that maybe you didn’t need the stars that night after all, because he alone shined brightly enough.

He looked around then, eyebrows furrowed. “But, where are your parents? Shouldn’t you guys get going before all the restaurants close?”

Your smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared. You swallowed, your eyes drifting towards a car that sat a few yards away from the two of you. The car was running and the lights inside were on, casting a yellow glow onto the two occupants seated in the front: your parents. Although you couldn’t hear what they were saying, you knew that they were yelling by the way they pointed their fingers at each other, and by the expressions on their faces, and the intensity with which their lips were moving.

The boy followed your gaze, his mouth parting slightly in surprise when he caught sight of your parents in the heat of their dispute. He glanced sideways at you before moving to sit in front of you, blocking your view of your parents.

“Why don’t you sneak to the pool with me?” He asked.

You shook your head immediately, a slight smile returning to your face. It was clear that he was trying to distract you, and you were grateful. That didn’t mean you were willing to sneak away from your parents, especially when the tension among your family was already sky high.

“Why not?” He whined, sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.

“Because I’m not supposed to move from this spot,” You said.

“And I wasn’t supposed to leave my hotel room, yet here I am.” He shrugged nonchalantly, brushing his bangs out of his eyes only for them to fall right back into place. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

There were a lot of really terrible things that could happen as a result of you sneaking away to go night swimming with a boy you didn’t know while your parents fought in the middle of a hotel parking lot. You could probably list ten off the top of your head. However, when you looked into the starry eyes of the boy in front of you, his lips spread in an encouraging grin that made you feel warm inside despite the cold, you hesitated.

What was the worst thing that could happen? The list seemed to be erased from your head as quickly as it appeared.

He tilted his head to the side, a playful glint sparkling in his eyes. He stood up and stretched his hand out to you, his fingers trembling from the cold.

“Should we run away?”

Your fingers twitched, urging to reach out touch his own. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to find the balance between being rational and following where your heart was leading. These two things did not seem to be lining up.

Before you could do anything, however, you heard a car door slamming shut. You jumped to your feet just in time to see your mother stepping away from the vehicle before your father drove off, leaving her alone in the parking lot. Eyes wide with worry, you watched as your mother brushed her hand across her cheeks before taking a deep breath and making her way towards you.

“Y/N,” she said when she reached you, not even glancing at the boy beside of you as she took your face in her hands. “Your dad is going to come pick us up in the morning. How about we just have a girl’s night to celebrate your birthday instead?”

With your heart dropping to your toes, you felt the tears welling in your eyes once again, but you refused to let them fall. You smiled and nodded, wrapping your hand around your mother’s. “Yeah. That sounds fine.”

You turned towards the boy to see that his face was full of concern. Forcing the best smile you could, you unzipped his coat and slipped it off your shoulders before placing it back in his outstretched hands.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. Before he could say anything back, you had turned away and began walking back towards the entrance, arm-in-arm with your mother.

“I was thinking we could order a pizza and rent your favorite movies,” she said, straining to keep the emotion out of your voice. “I’ll order the food once we get back to the room, okay?”

You nodded slowly, halting your footsteps just before the automatic doors that led inside.

But when you turned your head to catch one last look at the boy who shined brighter than the stars, he was already gone.

IN THE HAZY PLACE BETWEEN SLEEPING AND WAKING, YOU COULD HAVE SWORN YOU HEARD HIM SINGING.

With your eyes still closed, the sound rang through your head, clear as day. It was comforting, as if you had heard it before. Yet it wasn’t a sound that only echoed around you. This voice, so gentle and sweet that it seemed to drip with sugar and honey, filled all of your senses to the brim. You weren’t just hearing it, you were feeling it.

“In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

You sighed, swept away by the sound and the words that the voice sang. You felt as though you had heard it before, but you couldn’t quite think of where. Snuggling closer to whatever it was that you were leaning against, you allowed the faintest of smiles to trace its way across your lips.

The singing stopped. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You pressed your face closer against the warmth you were leaning into, frowning at the sudden absence of the soothing voice.

“Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, slowly forcing your eyes open.

You weren’t quite sure where exactly you expected to be when you opened your eyes, but it definitely was not on the floor of the orchestra practice room with your head in Choi Beomgyu’s lap. Beomgyu was smiling down at you, black curls hanging over his eyes, freckles illuminated by the faint moonlight that spilled through the windows.

You sat up quickly, trying to fix your messy hair as you felt your face grow warm. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you were incredibly embarrassed that you had.

“How—how long was I asleep?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

“Just an hour or so. I think you got so stressed out after trying to call so many people that you just passed out,” Beomgyu said. He reached his hands toward you and helped you straighten up your hair, which only served to make your face even warmer than before.

“Sorry,” you said, gesturing to his lap. “For . . . that.”

He waved his hand at you before folding his hands behind his head. “Don’t apologize. Seems like you needed the sleep—you were dreaming pretty intensely.”

“I was? Did I say anything weird in my sleep? What did I say? Was it embarrassing?” You grabbed his sleeve, eyes wide as you bombarded him with questions.

He laughed, shaking his head in reassurance. “Don’t worry, it was nothing embarrassing. But you were talking.”

“What did I say?”

“Hmm, something about it being your birthday?” He placed a finger against his chin, eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure exactly what else. It was all kinda random.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting the inside of your cheek as you let go of his sleeve. You remembered every bit of the dream you had—well, it wasn’t really a dream as much as it was a memory. It was embarrassing to think that Beomgyu had heard any part of the memory, but you tried not to think about it too much.

“Beomgyu,” You said, opening your eyes once more to look at him. “Were you singing just now? Before I woke up?”

He didn’t say anything at first, his expression blank. Then, he smiled, nudging your shoulder with his. “Of course not—you know I don’t sing. Why?”

“Actually, for the record, I did not know that,” You corrected. “And I don’t know, I just . . . thought I heard someone.”

“Maybe it was your soulmate,” Beomgyu said, moving his eyebrows up and down.

You sighed, looking down at your feet. “I wish it was. I haven’t heard from him in two years.”

The smile fell from Beomgyu’s face right away. “Ah, sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize.”

“Do you . . . know what happened to him?”

You shook your head, staring at the moon through the window. “No. I don’t even know who he was.”

“Hey, why are you speaking in the past tense?” He turned towards you and grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to face him. “Think positively, Y/N. He could still be out there. When did you first hear him?”

“When I was thirteen,” You answered. “But he stopped singing two years ago.”

“And you haven’t heard anything since then?”

You hesitated, thinking back over the past two years and all the sleepless nights you had spent waiting and hoping to hear any trace of a note ringing in your ears, the faintest hint of a voice. Sometimes, when you were just about to close your eyes, you would’ve sworn that you could hear his voice for the briefest of moments before you drifted off, but you would always blame it on being sleep deprived.

“No,” you said quietly. “I haven’t heard anything. He used to sing all the time, too. I would wake up to the sound of his voice, and it would carry me throughout each and every day. I know it sounds weird to say this about someone I don’t remember meeting, but I felt . . . connected to him, if that makes sense?”

Beomgyu didn’t say anything, so you continued. “He’s actually the reason why I picked up the violin. I got so used to his voice, I would go around humming all day. I guess my mom got tired of hearing me, because soon after I started hearing him, my mom signed me up for violin lessons. And, well, now I’m here.”

You looked over to see Beomgyu smiling softly, but his eyes didn’t meet yours. “Do you have any idea of who it might be?”

You were quiet for a moment. The image of the boy from the hotel parking lot with his star-struck eyes and diamond smile came to your mind, as always.

“No. But I have someone I hope it is.”

You looked over at him again, and this time, his eyes met yours. The silvery light of the moon highlighted the right side of his face and the bridge of his nose, casting a stark shadow across the other side. He was neither smiling nor frowning as his eyes searched yours. What exactly he was looking for you couldn’t be sure of, however, you liked the eye contact well enough to let it go on for a moment longer before you cleared your throat, looking back towards the window.

“Did you try calling Yeonjun again?”

“Yep. No answer.”

“Taehyun?”

“Nothing.”

“The professor?”

“Didn’t pick up—I left a message though.”

You sighed, allowing the back of your head to hit the wall behind you. “We’ll be stuck here all night at this rate.”

“Well, now that you’ve had a little nap, we may as well use this time to be productive,” Beomgyu said, standing to his feet and stretching his arms above his head as he did so.

You crossed your arms, raising a brow as you watched him pull his guitar out of the case. “What’s this? Choi Beomgyu taking initiative?”

“Hey, we said we were starting over.”

You laughed as he sat on the edge of the desk in front of where you were sitting on the floor. He pulled the strap over his shoulder and began tuning his guitar by ear, something you always struggled to do with your violin.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

He strummed through all the strings, nodding when he was satisfied with the sounds. Glancing down at you, he smiled. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to show you the song I wrote.”

Interest piqued, you sat up straighter and smiled back at him. “I was hoping that’s what you’d say.”

He laughed, adjusting his position on the desk before his fingers found their place on the neck of the guitar. You listened attentively as he began to pick the first notes, watching the way his fingers moved deliberately across the frets, yet, his movements never lost their grace. At first, he kept his eyes focused on his hands. But as the song went on, his eyes slowly closed, and he played without seeing, relying solely on the sound of the notes he was creating and the feeling of the strings that pressed into his calloused fingertips.

Awestruck would have been an understatement for the way you felt as you watched him play. The way he became one with the sounds he created, the way his wrist twisted to strum and how his fingertips slid across the length of the instrument as if it was the very thing they had been created to do. You were hypnotized, allowing the music to seep into your heart and make it thump against your chest like a caged bird begging to be set free.

If you had to put a word to how he looked in that moment, “beautiful” was the closest you would be able to get.

He opened his eyes as he strummed the last note, a gentle grin on his lips. You noticed how his eyes sparkled in the darkness, despite his back being towards the moonlight rather than his face.

“What do you think?” He asked, his voice sounding sharp as it pierced through the thick silence that had settled over the room.

“It was—”

“It was real pretty, kid.”

You yelped in surprise at the sudden voice, jumping up to your feet as Beomgyu practically fell off the desk, nearly dropping his guitar in the process. You helped steady him, and together, you looked towards the door to see that it was wide open, fluorescent light from the hallway spilling into the room as the janitor stood in the entry way, arms crossed over his chest as he blew a bubble with the gum in his mouth.

“If you’re done serenading your girlfriend, would you mind leaving so I can clean up and go home? This building closed an hour ago, but if you both leave now I’ll keep quiet.”

Your cheeks went hot, and you struggled to form words as Beomgyu scrambled to put his guitar back in its case. “Girl—girlfriend? No, we’re not—I mean, I’m not his—we just got stuck and—”

“Thank you, sir. We’re really sorry.” Beomgyu cut you off as he picked up his guitar case with one hand and wrapped his free arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. You gasped, but were too stunned to do anything but follow Beomgyu’s lead as he pulled you out of the room.

“What was that about?” You asked once the two of you had safely made it out of the building. “You were not serenading me.”

Beomgyu shrugged, letting his arm fall from your shoulders. Your mouth fell open at his lack of a denial. “Choi Beomgyu! Stop messing around.”

“Who said I was messing around?” He teased, winking at you as he began to walk towards his dorm building, which was on the other side of campus from yours.

You scoffed but said nothing as you watched his back while he walked away from you, trying to piece together what had just happened.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N!” He shouted, turning around as he walked so he could wave goodbye.

You gave him a weak-hearted wave in return, pressing your hands against your flushed cheeks as you slowly began to tread back to your own dorm room.

How strange it was that just that morning, you would have given almost anything to avoid seeing Beomgyu.

But now, you found yourself counting down the minutes left until the next day so you could see him again.

WHEN YOU GOT BACK TO YOUR DORM FROM REHEARSAL THE NEXT EVENING, YOU HAD A TEXT.

Beomgyu: I know we said we were starting over, but I can’t forget that I still owe you a coffee. Meet me at the library in 15?

You felt like an idiot, but you couldn’t stop the grin from taking over your face. Slipping your shoes back on, you typed out a quick reply before slipping out the door.

You: Make it 5. I’ll be waiting.

When you arrived at the library, you were surprised to see that Beomgyu was already there. The line for coffee was very short, as most students had settled into their dorms for the night. Only a few stray overachievers and those that were desperately trying to cram for exams were there, and Beomgyu had claimed a place in line amongst them. He held his guitar in one hand, as per usual, and you wondered if there would ever come a time in which you would see him without it.

“How is it that you demanded to meet me ten minutes earlier than I planned, and I still got here before you?” He asked once you had reached him.

“First of all, I did not demand anything from you,” You said, pushing your fist against his shoulder. “Secondly, that is so unfair, because you know that your dorm is way closer to the library than mine is.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me, but okay. Ah, it’s our turn.” He placed his hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to the counter. Your stomach flipped, but for some reason, you didn’t mind.

After the two of had gotten your coffees, Beomgyu told you to follow him up the stairs. You expected to stop at the second floor, but to your surprise, he kept leading you. He took you through a door in the back that you didn’t even know existed, where there was another flight of stairs. At the end of these stairs was another door. You stepped outside and found yourself on the rooftop, with a great view of the campus below.

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be up here?” You asked.

“Well, no. But I’ve come up here a lot and never gotten in trouble, so what’s the harm?”

“That does not make me feel any better.”

“Come on, Y/N.” He took your hand in his and brought you over to the wide ledge, big enough for the two of you to sit on without the fear of falling off. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

You paused, eyes growing wide. He stared back at you as he hoisted himself up on the ledge. He took a sip of his coffee before asking, “Why are you staring at me like that?”

You shook your head, setting your coffee beside of him before bringing yourself up to sit on the ledge yourself.

“Nothing,” You said. “You just reminded me of someone.”

“Ah.” He stared at you for a moment longer before he slipped his jacket off and wrapped it around your shoulders. You opened your mouth to protest, but he placed his finger against your parted lips, which was more than enough to shut you up.

“Just accept an act of kindness, would you?” He said, zipping his jacket up over you. You watched him as he did so, noticing the way his chocolate eyes sparkled in the midst of the cloudy night.

You swallowed, averting your gaze. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

It was quiet then, but not in an uncomfortable way. You enjoyed sitting beside of him in the silence, watching the lights of campus below you, feeling the warmth from his jacket spread over your chilled skin.

“Actually, Y/N, there’s something that’s been bothering me,” Beomgyu said, breaking the silence.

You turned to face him, curious. “What is it?”

For the first time since you had met him, Beomgyu looked nervous. He picked at the skin around his nails, doing everything he could to keep his eyes from meeting yours.

“Remember how you asked me if I sang? When we were locked in the orchestra room?” His voice was a bit quieter than it had been before.

“Yeah, you said you didn’t.”

“Right. Well, that—that was a lie,” He blurted, seeming to regret his words the second they had left his mouth. “Well, not a blatant lie, because I don’t sing anymore. But I used to.”

You were a bit confused, but seeing how nervous he was, you decided not to ask him why he would lie about such a seemingly trivial topic.

“What made you stop?” You asked carefully, not wanting to upset him.

He hesitated, wringing his hands together. After taking a deep breath, he spoke again.

“My father and I used to sing together,” He began. “I taught myself how to play the guitar, but he was the one who taught me how to sing. He loved to sing, more than anything else, and he always told me that I had a brilliant voice. He said it would be a shame to keep such a voice to myself.”

He smiled fondly as he spoke of his father, and you couldn’t help but smile as well. The joy slowly faded from his expression, however, as he began to speak again.

“I lost him two years ago,” He said quietly, voice thick with emotions that caused your heart to clench. “He was in a bad car accident. I was doing really well here, in vocals and guitar. But when I lost him, I just . . . I couldn’t sing anymore. I tried, I really did. I just couldn’t do it.”

“Oh, Beomgyu,” You whispered, gently placing your hand over his trembling one.

“It’s pathetic, isn’t it?” He sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Singing was the one thing he wanted me to do, and now that he’s gone, I’m failing at it.”

“No, Beomgyu,” You said, your voice firm as you squeezed his hand. “It’s not pathetic at all. You’re doing the best you can, and you’re still here. And most importantly, you tried. That’s what matters.”

He brought his eyes back to yours then, glistening with moisture in the moonless, starless night. He smiled at you then, and you smiled back.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“Have I told you yet that you’re really, really beautiful?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You were frozen for a moment before you scoffed, pulling your hand away from his and tucking it into your lap.

“I thought you were going to start being more serious,” You mumbled, refusing to look at him. “Stop messing around.”

Then, he moved closer to you, placing one arm behind you while he brought the other to rest against your cheek, gently turning your face towards his. He leaned in, so close that his breath brushed against your skin. He smelled of citrus and vanilla, and you found yourself leaning closer to him.

He glanced at your lips, then met your eyes once again.

“What makes you think I’m not being serious?”

His lips were soft when they pressed against yours, and it felt as though your heart would burst right out of your chest. You allowed your eyes to fall shut as he gently moved his mouth against yours, slowly tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he did so, before allowing his fingers to gently trace their way along your cheek, then your jaw, until he rested his hand against your neck, pulling you a tiny bit closer to him.

He broke the kiss for a fleeting moment, just to open his eyes so he could look into yours. You liked the flecks of light that beamed in his irises, as though his eyes were made of starlight. He smiled, allowing his nose to brush against yours as his eyes moved back down to your lips. Once again, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips with his for the second time. He tasted like coffee and cheap cherry chap-stick—and odd combination, but you didn’t mind as you brought your arms around his neck and shifted closer to him, twisting your head to the side as you moved your lips in time with his.

The moment was unexpected, to say the least. But perhaps that was what made it feel that much more magical.

At least, it was magical until you felt scalding hot liquid splash all over the side of your leg, seeping through the fabric of your jeans to burn your skin.

You gasped against Beomgyu’s lips before pulling away, staring wide eyed at your jeans that were now stained with coffee. Your cup, which had been sitting between the two of you, was now knocked on its side, the contents drained.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Beomgyu said frantically. His lips were shining from the aftermath of your kiss, his freckled cheeks and nose red as a cherry. He gently pressed his hands against your leg, pulling them back when you winced from the impact. “Oh god—I’m sorry, I forgot that it was there and I was leaning in and I knocked it over and—”

You laughed at how flustered he had become, amused by this side of him that you hadn’t seen before. You grabbed his face and pulled him towards you, pressing your lips against his in a swift kiss, effectively shutting him up.

“It’s okay, Beomgyu,” You said once you pulled away, letting your hands fall from his face. “I guess you just owe me another coffee.”

The goofy lopsided grin you had grown accustomed to took place of the frightened expression he had worn just moments before. He hopped off the ledge, extending his hand towards you to help you down.

“Come on, partner. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

IT WAS THE DAY OF THE OPEN HOUSE, AND YOU WERE SLIGHTLY UNNERVED BY HOW WELL THINGS WERE GOING.

You had hoped that everything would go smoothly. The past few weeks, you had spent all your time and energy making sure that the event would be as close to perfect as possible.

Well, you had also spent a bit of time with Beomgyu, but only when you had the time to spare, of course.

The performers were all setting up; the drama department was working on setting up the stage props, as they would be going first, and they were busy rehearsing with the orchestra for how they could effectively move the props to make room for the instruments in a timely fashion. Yeonjun was rushing about, directing them with the grace and efficiency only he could pull off.

Everything was going perfectly. You should have just been happy about that, but for some reason, it felt as though you were just waiting for something to go terribly wrong.

“Y/N.” You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, smiling as he walked towards you. He was dressed in a white button up shirt that he tucked into a pair of black jeans. His sleeves were pushed up a bit, exposing his forearms.

“Everything okay?” You asked once he had reached you. You glanced at the members of the band, who were talking in hushed voices right behind Beomgyu. Your eyes narrowed when you noticed that something was amiss. “Where’s Soobin? Is he on his way?”

Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his already messy curls. “That’s what I was coming to talk to you about. He’s sick—he won’t be able to make it. I just got a text from him.”

You blinked slowly, trying to process what you had just been told. Soobin was the main vocalist for the band. Without him, or someone to fill his position, there would be no performance.

You quickly walked over to the band, desperately trying to think of something to fix the situation, and Beomgyu was following right behind you.

“Can any of you do lead vocals in Soobin’s place?” You asked.

“No,” the main guitarist said, looking just as stressed out as you were. “We’d have to change the entire key for it to fit my range, and even if we had time to do that—which we don’t—we wouldn’t have any backup vocals.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut. “There’s got to be something we can do to replace him. We can’t just take the band performance out.”

“How about Beomgyu?”

Your eyes flew open at the sound of Yeonjun’s voice, and you whirled around to see him standing behind you.

“When did you get there?” You asked.

“A minute or so ago,” He said, striding forward so that he stood on the other side of you. “But seriously, everyone knows Beomgyu can sing. He used to do it all the time. Why not have him take Soobin’s place?”

“It would make sense,” the guitarist said, his face lighting up with a glint of hope. “He’s been here for all the practices—I mean, he even wrote the song!”

You turned your eyes towards Beomgyu, worry overtaking you in an instant when you saw his expression. All the color had drained from his face, his lips pulled between his teeth. His hands were trembling, and he refused to meet your gaze.

“Beomgyu,” You said quietly, taking his shaky hand in your steady one. “You don’t have to. We can figure something else out—”

“I’ll think about it,” He said, eyes finally finding yours. He did his best to force a smile, but it was so strained, your worry only grew at the sight. “Just . . . can you give me a little while?”

You nodded, squeezing his hand. “Of course.”

He slipped away from you then, disappearing behind the stage. Your eyes followed him until you couldn’t see him any longer, worry creasing your brows.

“What was that about?” Yeonjun asked, stepping a bit closer to you. “I understand not wanting to force anyone to do something last minute, but we don’t really have many options.”

“There’s more to it than that,” You said quietly. “Just trust me, okay? And if he says he can’t do it, he can’t. We are not going to force him to do this.”

Yeonjun still looked confused, but he simply shrugged. “Whatever you say, captain. But just so you know, if he can’t do it, you’re gonna be the one singing in Soobin’s place. And trust me, no one wants to hear that.”

You fought the urge to flip him off as he walked away, wondering why on earth you still kept him around as your best friend.

The rest of the preparations went on, and soon, the audience had begun to fill the auditorium. You hadn’t seen Beomgyu since that moment during rehearsals, and you were beginning to grow worried.

You stood in the right wing of the stage as the show began with the drama department. You tried to focus on the performance—it was amazing, of course, especially since Yeonjun played a lead role in the scene they had chosen. Everyone knew he was an amazing actor. However, rather than being able to enjoy the show, you could only think about where Beomgyu was and wonder if he was doing alright, your stomach twisting itself into knots as the seconds ticked by.

By the time the drama students were finished, the audience standing to clap for their flawless performance, you had bitten your nails down to nubs as you grew increasingly worried. Yeonjun rushed over to you when he left the stage, smiling widely as he stretched his arms out to his sides. “How’d we do?”

“Hm?” You snapped out of your daze, shaking your head as you gave him two thumbs up. “Oh—wonderful. You guys were great. Hey, will you make sure everything goes well with the orchestra? I have to go find Beomgyu.”

“Well why don’t you stay here and I’ll go find him—”

“Nope, I’ve got it! Thanks best friend, you’re the greatest!” You gave him a quick hug before he could say anything else, quickly rushing out of the auditorium. You made your way down a few hallways, taking a couple of turns until you had reached one of the dressing rooms. You knew this was where Beomgyu had been getting ready because his guitar case was propped against the wall outside of it, so you hoped he was still inside.

You knocked on the door. “Beomgyu? Are you in there?”

It was silent, but you heard someone sniffle from behind the door. You sighed, leaning against the wood. “You don’t have to say anything, okay? But just hear me out.”

There was no response, but you could have sworn you felt someone leaning against the door from the other side.

“I know you may feel like you have to pressure yourself to do this, but you don’t,” You said gently. “Nobody is going to be disappointed if you can’t get up there to sing. Not me, not Yeonjun, not the band.”

You paused, biting your lip before you continued. “Your father wouldn’t be upset either, Beomgyu. The fact that you’re willing to even think about doing something this hard just to help out shows just how great of a person you are. He would be so, so proud of you. I’m proud of you, too. Whether or not you get up there and sing tonight, I’m proud of you. Okay?”

You stayed there, waiting in silence for a moment longer before you pushed away from the door, walking back towards the auditorium.

The orchestra was almost finished with their set by the time you returned to the wing. Yeonjun and the band were waiting with anticipation when you returned, eyes wide and searching behind you, probably hoping that Beomgyu was close behind.

“Is he coming?” Yeonjun asked.

You sighed, shaking your head slowly. “I don’t think so. We’ll just have to call off the band’s performance, but it’ll be okay—”

“That won’t be necessary.”

You turned at the sound of Beomgyu’s voice, unable to help the big smile that overtook your face. You hurried towards him, grabbing both his hands in your own.

“Are you sure?” You asked. “You know you don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t,” he said with a smile. “But I want to.”

He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead. “Thank you. For everything.”

He went up to talk to the band after that, leaving you a blushing mess. The orchestra had just finished their set and were busy making way for the band. Yeonjun walked to your side as Beomgyu and the rest of the band took their places on the stage.

“Did he just kiss you?” Your best friend asked. For some reason, he didn’t sound surprised.

Dumbfounded, you brought your hand to your forehead and nodded, unable to speak. Yeonjun laughed at you, causing you to snap out of your daze so you could punch him lightly in the shoulder.

Once the band had finished getting ready, Beomgyu cleared his throat, tapping the mic before leaning forward to speak into it.

“Hello everyone, thanks for coming out tonight. My name is Choi Beomgyu, and these lovely people surrounding me are some of the many talented musicians in our music department.” He paused when the audience clapped, waiting until the applause died down before he spoke again. “To wrap up this showcase, we’ll be performing a song I wrote myself. I wrote this about someone I met a long, long time ago.”

He turned his head to the side then, making eye contact with you from the stage. He smiled, not taking his gaze away from yours. He looked heavenly in the light cast from the spotlight, strands of his black hair seeming to turn silver beneath the glow, his golden skin shining brighter than ever. You were sure that if you were close enough, you would see the star-like sparkles in his eyes that you had grown to adore.

“I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

“Is he talking about you?” Yeonjun whispered into your ear, noticing the direction of Beomgyu’s stare. “You guys just met like, a month ago.”

You were just as confused as your best friend, so in response, you simply shrugged, unsure of what was going on. He was definitely talking to you, but you had no idea what he was referring to.

“I hope she remembers me, even after all this time.”

You racked your brain, trying desperately to think of what he could mean. Had you met him before? Did he remember you from somewhere, from a memory that had somehow slipped your mind?

The music began to play, and you took a step closer to the stage, eyes narrowed, ready to focus on the lyrics, wanting more than anything to remember what Beomgyu was talking about.

“In moments like those, when tears fill your eyes, hold my hand tight. Should we run away?”

Your eyes went wide. You stumbled back, reaching up to hold your head in your hands.

“Y/N?” Yeonjun’s voice was distant, overpowered by the sound of the honey sweet voice that filled the air. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You gasped, hands tangling in your hair as the singing continued.

“Be my forever, call my name. Run away, run away, run away with me.”

Your head was ringing. Not only were these words the same ones you had heard in your head the night you were locked in the classroom with Beomgyu, but the voice—Beomgyu’s voice—was the same one you had heard day and night while growing up.

It was your soulmates voice.

You knew it was, not just because of the lyrics or the familiarity of the voice. You knew it was your soulmate because you didn’t just hear the words and the notes of the song, you felt them. Every inch of your being felt as though it had been struck by lightning. The voice filled up all of your senses, overpowering you in the most beautiful way imaginable.

But it was too much. His voice coming through the loudspeakers paired with it ringing inside your head built up so much pressure that it caused your vision to blur. You quickly stumbled out of the auditorium, fumbling your way through the front doors that led outside.

You sat down on the pavement, taking deep breaths as your mind began to calm down. No longer overwhelmed by all that was going on around you, you closed your eyes, listening to Beomgyu’s voice as it filled your mind.

“Don’t wanna stay, now we can go. Take me now to the magic named ‘us.’”

With those words, the voice died down, and you were surrounded by silence.

You simply sat there for several moments, your eyes remaining closed as you tried to understand everything that had just happened to you.

Beomgyu was your soulmate.

Beomgyu was your soulmate, and he was alive.

Bit by bit, you started to piece things together. The night of your thirteenth birthday, the day before you heard his voice for the first time. You had met the boy with sparkling eyes and a lopsided grin in the hotel parking lot. He had offered you his coat, and then his hand.

“I hope she remembers me,” Beomgyu had said.

You smiled to yourself, placing your hand over your heart as it beat fiercely against your chest.

“Yes, Beomgyu. I do remember you.”

“Y/N!”

Your eyes flew open at the sound of the door being thrown open behind you. You turned to see Beomgyu barreling towards you, practically collapsing to the ground in front of you. He took your face in his hands, eyes frantically searching yours.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his fingers gently running along the length of your cheeks.

You nodded, smiling even though tears began to pool in your eyes. “Beomgyu,” You said quietly, lifting your hands to hold his wrists. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Knew what?”

“That you’re my soulmate.”

He paused, the worry in his face slowly being replaced by a wide, sparkling smile.

“So you finally figured it out, huh?” He said, brushing a strand of your hair back behind your ear. “If you didn’t figure it out after tonight, I wasn’t sure how else I was supposed to show you.”

You laughed, a tear slipping down your cheek as you tightened your grip on his wrists. His expression changed once again, brows knit with concern. “Are—are you crying? What’s wrong?”

“No, nothing, it’s fine,” You assured him, resting your forehead against his. “I’m just happy. I’m so, so happy, Beomgyu.”

He sighed with relief, wrapping his arms around you in a hug, pulling you snugly into his chest. His chin rested on top of your head as you slipped your arms around his middle, pulling him even closer than he already was.

“I was a little worried that you’d be disappointed when you found out it was me,” He said with a light laugh.

You shook your head against his chest, snuggling even closer to him. “Of course not. You’re exactly who I hoped it would be, Choi Beomgyu.”

The two of you stayed like that for a bit longer before Beomgyu pulled away and stood up in front of you.

The boy with stars for eyes and a smile that outshone the moon stretched his hand out towards you, fingers shaking from the cold, cheeks flushed from your embrace.

“Should we run away?” He asked.

This time, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet.

2K notes · View notes

siriusmydeer · 4 years

Text

james potter smut alphabet

james potter x fem!reader

a/n: that took from 9:45pm-12:pm then 7am-9:20am THAT TOOK SO LONG OMG

i’m sorry if it’s bad

warning: literally pure sex smut all that jazz

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

that man is the softest dom, literally the DEFINITION. he gives u so many kisses, he praises u, he will shower with you, wash your hair, gives u his clothes LITERALLY THE BEST.

“mhm jamie, too tired” you murmur. your body melting into the mattress as you speak, all worn down. “but, love.” he pushes your hair behind your ears, pulling you up. “gotta get you all nice and clean f’me.”

he pulls you up, his calloused hands gripping onto your thighs, bringing you into the bathroom. the shower already nice and warm ready for the both of you. he’s holding you under the warm water to the point where you might collapse if it wasn’t for his grip.

“you did good love, so so good all f’me.” he says sponging kisses on your forehead, both of his hands on your lower back holding you.

“i love you, my sweets.”

“you’re the only one f’me.”

you were so tired, so vulnerable just allowing james to take care of you because that’s all he wanted to do.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his biceps, simple. he does A LOT of quidditch training to get to his strength. he also takes pride in being able to just fuck you against the lockers from his strength. it also inflates his ego when he catches you staring at his biceps. or when he’s taking you underneath him your gripping his biceps like your life depended on it.

“james- fuck.” you moaned into his neck, his lips sucking dark hues into your collar bones and his left forearm resting right beside your head and his other gripping around your waist.

he started going slower, but deeper. he hit a new angle inside of you almost hitting your cervix. you let out a strangled moan gripping his bicep almost digging your nails into the flesh.

his head dipping out from beneath your neck to slot your plush reddened lips with his.

that man and you’re THIGHS. he’s a thigh man don’t tell me other wise. whether ur in your school skirt, jeans, leggings, underwear ;) his legs AND HANDS always divert to the soft plush skin of your thigh.

your ankles insticntly went to lock around james’ head, he had been in between your thighs for hours on end without a stop.

“james- i’m gonna cum.” you breathed out in a moan. his hands squeezing at the flesh on your thigh, they were reddened and begging to lightly bruise from him doing those similar actions for the last hour and a half.

“cum darling, cum for me.”

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

so, esentially speaking theres wizard potions to block out pregnancy. so he would be CUMMING INSIDE OF U. not nessesarily a breeding kink but he likes when your full and stuffed with his cum. he also loves to cum on your chest or thighs because he likes the contrast to your skin and he think it makes you so utterly pretty.

the wave of euphoria and stars dancing across your vision had almost come to an end as your boyfriends thrust got sloppy and rigid.

“pretty girl where do you want it, where do you want my cum?” he panted to you, close to his release.

“i want you to cum inside me jamie, please. fill me up.” you let out a small moan at his constant friction when you felt ropes of seed shoot into you, he rode out his orgasam then pulled out. you clenched around nothing as he came face to you cunt.

he pushed his fingers into you, a small moan leaving your mouth as you made eye contact with him.

“gotta keep you all nice and full, yeah?”

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

there’s nothing he would want more than a lap dance. you in you your lingerie you had just bought giving him a little show after one of a quidditch wins.

“mhm, sit f’me.” you whispered into his ear, placing him to hit at the end of his four poster bed.

“and what have you got going on darling? a suprise?” he said, leaning against his two hands watching you pry at your tie and slip it off.

slowly unbuttoning your school blouse, flinging it on the floor. he lets out a small groan at the sight of you almost naked in your skirt. you walk towards him shuffling onto his lap.

“you did win after all, and winners get rewards.” you said circling your hips onto his clothed cock .

“fuck... the things you do to me.” he groaned into your ear as you continued.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

i’m gonna be honest i don’t think that much when you first get together. i mean there’s been ladies he’s a marauder but he’s only ever wanted to you so i feel like he just gets to know your body really well and he sort of just has instincts. like during your first time there’s those little awkward moments but you both make it run all good and smoothly

“s’gonna hurt y/n.” he murmured to you, situating himself in between your legs as you lock your ankles behind his back.

“i know, but i want this. i want you. i need you inside me.” you whisper in desperation for him, needing to feel him.

“you ready?”

“mhm, please.”

he slowly started to slide into you, when you let out your first hiss of discomfort, he slotted his fingers between yours and slightly halted his movements.

“keep going jamie.” you encouraged

he slid his way into your cunt until he was fully in.

“move please, i need to feel you.” he did his first pulse, light movements when you let an involuntary moan escape the threshold of your lips.

“mhm- jamie, keep going.”

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

missionary bc he just wants to see your beautiful face, against the quidditch lockers so he can just hold you against them or doggy bc he likes to choke you or pull you up so he can see your back arch for him.

you heard the bang of metal as james took you against the quidditch lockers and you tried to muffle your moans against his lips.

“gotta- gotta be quiet love. wouldn’t want anyone to know what we’re doing in here.” he panted into you ear. he continued as he angled your leg higher, hitting you g-spot as he continued his pace.

“james fuck- so good. so fucking good.”

“you look so fucking beautiful like this y/n.”

“j-james i- i cant hold on much longer. s’too much.” you moaned and whimpered from the back of your throat.

“pretty girl cum for me.”

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

there’s 2 kinds of sex with james, giggly super soft lovie sex. not necessarily making jokes but just giggling because he just tickled your side my accident or accidentally bumping noses. or there’s big dom daddy james where it’s very PASSIONATE but he’s very dominate.

his hand ran down the depth of your curves, a little giggle bubbling through your throat. he looked at you with a cocked brow, repeating his action as his chin rested on your stomach a small smirk on his lips.

you giggled again, your hand running through his hair. you brought his face to your lips as your finger tips danced under his jaw.

he giggled at your actions as well, also seemingly ticklish under his neck.

“you’re so distracting james potter.” you groaned as he continued to pulse through you while giggling at you.

“i’m distractingly beautiful y/n y/l/n”

“quite insuffer- fuck!” you were caught off with a moan as his fingertips danced on your clit. stimulating you.

“hmmm darling, cat got your tongue?”

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

so james has that thick mangle of tresses on his head, so i feel like he’s quite cleanly shaven, maybe just a bit of a stubble? but i feel like he would shave not only to make it more comfortable for him but for you seemingly easier and more comfortable.

i don’t think he would care if you were shaved or not, as long as you were comfortable your natural body hair is not stopping him from going down on your or having sex with you.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

ROMANCE KING ILL SAY IT ONCE ILL SAY IT TWICE ILL SAY IT THREE TIMES IF HE COULD EVERYTIME HE WOULD SPREAD ROSE PETALS AND CANDLES AND LIGHT FIRE PLACES AND E V E R Y T H I N G. during the whole thing your hands would e interlocked with his, chests pressed against eachother, eye contact, soft touches, soft kisses and mumbles of praise like whew.

“jamie- what’s this?” you asked, your eyes scanning around the room with floating candles and rose petals on the floor.

“well i figured i’d make it special, i dunno.” he murmured shoving his hands in his pockets. you turned towards him with a grin your face.

you grasped his face between your palms lightly kissing his lips before speaking.

“a real sap you are potter, my sap.”

“correct, 10 points go y/h.”

“thanks professor potter.” you teased before leaning in to kiss his lips again.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

i feel like he would A LOT and you would catch him A LOT. somwtimes u aren’t always there but u know what is there, a picture of you and his hands and he makes due when he needs too. but normally he just goes to you because he would rather anyways but sometimes there are bigger priorities then his random hard ons.

“y/n- fuck me...” he moaned, his hand pumping his cock in one hand and the other gripping his bed post, knuckles turning a shade of white.

his only thought being the way you looked under him, on top of him, infront of him, you’re beautiful beautiful body. you were currently occupied helping mcgonagall with extra transfiguration while james was in need... of you.

you had finished early, waltzing into james’ room like normal except you were met with a familiar sight of james pumping his cock in his hand while his head was slightly leant back and his jaw was slack.

you cleared your throat, crossing your arms and a smirk on your lips with an eyebrow raise. “couldnt wait atleast an hour could you?” you teased, walking closer.

“well now that your here, could you lend a hand?”

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

james has a daddy kink😐 literally that’s one of his most prominent kinks. i mean your his angel, his darling girl he would do anything for you i mean he just wants to make you happy. and i mean you calling him daddy while withering under him just makes him 😁

“daddy... please.” you begged him.

“ive been a good girl. i promise!” you were almost yelling at him, wanting him to understand.

“sweetheart we’re you a good girl when flirting with sirius?” his face got seemingly close to yours, asking you the question while raising one of his eyebrows.

“no daddy.” you said, embarassed. you had been waiting for james attention all night long but instead he was stuck all up in detention for a prank against snape.

and then when he finally arrived to the common room he barely spared you a word, so you did what you had to do to grab his attention and... it worked.

“so tell me baby, whyd you break the rules?”

“i just wanted your attention daddy! i just wanted you!”

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

i think his fave would be the dorms in the bed. but the prefects bath is a very close second. and he surely doesn’t mind the common room or broom closets that are very open to public where you both could get caught in comprising positions.

you heard the slosh of the water beside you, as you moved your hips onto james’ submerged underneath the prefects bath water as u straddled him.

his hands came to steady your hips as your buried your head in his neck, and continuously grinding your cunt onto james’ dick.

“fuck angel... just like that.” he moaned while tightening his grip

“f-fuck jamie-“ you whimpered in his ear, clawing at his shoulders.

“you’re doing amazing pretty girl, keep doing- fuck- you feel so good around me.” he praised you while groaning.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

SO JAMES LOVES HAVING HIS HAIR PULLED IN BED; WHEN HES GOING DOWN ON YOU, IN MISSIONAIRY, WHEN YOUR RIDING HIM JUST ALL THE TIME SO WHEN U PLAY WITH THAT MANZ HAIR HE COULD THROW YOU OVER IN SECONDS AND GET U ON THAT BED.

“so fucking tired.” james muttered walking into the common room after a two hour detention with filch.

he saw your body displayed on the vermillion couch, very opening that his body could just rest on yours while you were in a conversation with remus and sirius.

he quietly sprawled his head on your lap, his arms arranging around your waist as he gor comfortable.

you mindlessly started caressing his hair, and pulling on the tuffs lovingly, that was until you felt a hard pressure pressing against your calf that you remembered james’ small dirty secret.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

i don’t feel like he would be into hurting you? like slapping, knife kinks, seeing you hurt i don’t think he would find that arousing he would more just be concerned because he doesn’t like to see your hurting. i think he would still like spankings but i don’t think he would slap you in the face or anything.

“so y/n, d’you think you’d try it?” sirius asked you, while your eyes paid more attention on the potions text book infront of you.

“try what?” you muttered, clearly disinterested in the conversation.

“knives in bed.”

you brought your head up to look at him, cocking an eyebrow confused at his question.

“um, probably not. i don’t know that’s an odd question pads.” you muttered turning your attention back to your potions book.

“but wouldnt that like... hurt her?” you heard james say in a concerned and confused tone to sirius.

“could if you wanted too, but it’s more of the thrill.” sirius replied to james.

“no, i don’t think i want the ‘thrill’ m’good, thanks.” he agitatedly replied to sirius and looked at his own book.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

i feel like he would like both equally but he’s more of a giver at heart. it’s kind of whatever happens in the moment because when your thighs are wrapped around his head it’s like heaven but your pretty lips wrapped around his cock? also heaven.

your hands braced his thighs as your plunged your mouth deeper onto his girth, trying to take him all in while breathing for your knows.

“you take my cock so well pretty girl.” he praises to you, his hand in a makeshift pony tail holding your hair away from your face.

you went back to his tip, kissing and swirling your tongue around trying to catch your breath before pushing your mouth onto him keeping a fast past.

“i’m gonna cum-“ he groaned and his own release shooting ropes of cum down youve throat cut him off.

he slowly rid out his high as you continue to suck and then swirled your tongue around the tip and opening your mouth to show that you had swallowed his release.

“good girl.”

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

i feel like he changes pace a lot? sometimes it’s really fast, and deep but sometimes very slow and passionate and deep and loving. he’s a man of many talents and whatever the mood is he can keep that pace.

his hand had one firm grasp on your waist as he pounded you from behind and the other gripped the root of your hair.

“you gonna be a messy little girl?” he taunted you through gritted teeth

“y-yes.” you muttered through moans.

he had just lost a quidditch match to slytherin and you offered a solution.

something nice and rough.

and that’s exactly what the both of you wanted.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

i feel like they would happen from time to time but i feel like he would be more into proper sex because you are literally his only priority like getting you off is all he cares about so maybe there’s a quick a few times but definitely not all the time.

“shh if you’re not quiet someone’s going to walk walk by and hear.” james taunted you, your legs wrapped around his waist and your head dug into his neck trying to hold back your moans.

“james- i- i cant s’too much, too much.” you said while biting your lip, unable to see much do you the darkness of the broom closet.

“well sweet girl that’s what happens when you get needy during school hm? is my pretty little slut gonna cum all over my cock while anyone could walk in?” he began to mock you.

“mhm- yes.” your lip becoming dry and chapped from all the incessant biting, “please can i cum?”

“go on, cum y/n.”

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

i feel as long as it wasn’t hurting you or it ended up with you or him like getting with other people he would try it?

“are you sure, m’scared i might hurt you.” james murmured while tying your hands up to the bed post.

“m’fine, promise.” you assured him, that night you were trying something new. both of you had previously talked about ties and bondage and you wanted to try it once to see if you’d both like it.

you pulled on the ropes a bit making sure they weren’t cutting off the circulation of your wrists.

“see? m’good jamie.”

“ok but if something happens tell me, i don’t want you to hold back because i might be enjoying it you’re not.”

“james i promise.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“i love you too.”

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

that man happens to be a QUIDDITCH PRODIGY. HE IS A SEEKER. WHICH MEANS HE CAN LAST AWHILE. i believe that he would stop when you wanted to stop, like he could fuck you all night if he wanted too.

“one more darling, one more f’me.” his voice hoarse from the previous three rounds.

he wanted to know if you could go any more, ready to stop at any time.

“one more?” you said breathily to him.

“just one.”

“yes daddy, i want you, please.” you plead to your bespectacled boyfriend, you began clenching around nothing feeling empty again.

“mhm please, please i want you.”

“alright darling, no need to fret. m’right here.” he assured.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

i think he’s more like “why would you need those when you have me.” type of guy. like i don’t feel like he would have them even for punishments he would rather do it himself, even because he would feel closer to you like he’d rather fuck and tease you then silicone (bruh 😭)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

i feel like you would do more of the teasing because he would automatically become obdient to you. if he was teasing it wouldn’t be for long because he would fuck himself from watching you squirm and tease you.

his palm rested on the inside of your thigh, tracing little shapes as goosebumps rose onto your skin.

“nervous, darling?” he teased in your ear while you were trying to converse with peter about arithmancy homework during dinner at the great hall.

“james. stop. teasing.” you said through gritted teeth, your legs squirming at his fingers grazing your panties.

“but you’re so beautiful like this, about to make a mess during dinner? think that’s polite y/n?” he mocked you, he loved that he had that effect on you.

you turned towards his face that was almost touching the shell of your ear.

“if you keep doing this i won’t fuck you for a month.” you whispered, venom like words leaving your throat.

his sapphire eyes quickly widened as he moved his hand by the cap of your knee. you smirked as he was almost frantic by your words.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

he wants the whole hogwarts castle to know that you’re his so he is loud. he groans, he moans, he dirty talks, he moans your name like he is EXTRA with it. sometimes you almost have to shush him but he’s not having any of that.

“james, hush! you’re going to get all the prefrecfs scrambling around the room if you’re to loud!” you said covering his mouth, feeling him smirk against your palm.

“but darling, that’s the whole point. don’t you want everyone to know who you belong to?” you flushed and pulled your hand away from his face.

“that’s what i thought love.”

“you know sirius will never let us live this down, bet he can hear from the common room.”

“then let’s give him a show, shall we?”

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

cockwarming. if you’re being a brat that’s one of the ways he’s gonna punish you, while he’s working on a prank and his arm is just around your waist to make you stop squirming.

“if you’re going to be a brat angel, i’m gonna start treating you like one.” he murmured to your squirming figure as he tried to figure out a new prank on snape.

you were sat on top of his cock, clenching and squirming almost begging for him to touch you.

“jamie please i need you, please, please please.” you begged him, yet no avail. a determined look on his face as he was scribbling on the parchment.

he swatted your bum, you jolted a bit at the sudden friction of his hand and began to whine.

he looked at you, a dark look in his eyes which shut you up immediately because you knew what that look meant.

“hmm, so you can listen to the rules? good girl.”

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

that man is big and thick and he KNOWS HE IS. i’d say 8inches hard?

you rested your bum on to your calves before scooching up to this belt buckle as he was standing, holding a faux-ponytail of your hair between his calloused fingers.

“are you sure, y/n? you don’t have to if you don’t want too.” he looked down at you, puling your eyes to look in his sapphire ones.

“m’sure james.” you assured him, undoing the buckle and swiftly pulling down his boxers and uniform pants at the same time.

his shirt discarded on the floor earlier, his dick slapping his clenched stomach. he was already hard from your teasing and grinding earlier.

your eyes widened at his size, nervous how you would fit it all in your mouth.

“what’s wrong darling?” he started to get concerned at your frozen state.

“nothing.. y-your just, so big.” you said looking at his cock and hearing a chuckle in the backround.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

i feel like it’s pretty high but it’s always depending on you, he would rather die than force you to do anything if you weren’t feeling it or just didn’t want too. so if you’re up for anything than so is he.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

if it’s during the day i don’t think he would get that tired, but if it was during the night and he just finished aftercare i feel like you would lay on his chest if he hadn’t worked you hard enough and you guys would just talk about anthing. but if you guys did a lot of rounds and you were on the verge of slumber he would just kiss your hairline and praise you as you fell asleep.

“my good girl.” he said while kissing your forehead. “i love you so so much, you’re the only one for me.” his hand dragging against the arch of your back, the only thing seperating him from your skin was the shirt he put on you.

“my sweets, does everything for me. how could i have gotten so lucky.” he whispered on the shell of your ear.

“hmm, jamie been asking myself the same thing.” you murmured, sleep almost pulling you under but not enough for you to reply to him.

“goodnight james. i love you.”

“i love you more, my sweets.”

taglist: @mushroomfleur @fathermarty @kittykylax @famdomhideout @90steaology

if you’re username is crossed out that means the blog name is incorrect and you need to resubmit your form form my taglist!

#james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #james & peter & remus & sirius #james potter x oc #james potter x you #james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter one shot #james potter smut #james potter supremacy #james potter series #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smut #harry potter

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orobaxi · 4 years

Text

aftercare.

always brings his lover some water & a small snack, & will carry them to the bath if needed. will check your body for any injuries, & will always apologize, even after you insist that it’s fine.

body part.

he loves your face so, so much. from the way that you look at him when he tells you he loves you, to that soft smile you give him when the two of you finish. it’s perfect in every way imaginable, & he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

cum.

his cum is a bit on the thicker side, with a normal clear-to-white color. it’s neither salty or sweet, however, sometimes it has an odd hint of metal.

dominant/submissive.

zhongli’s a softer dominant that has his rougher moments, however, he’ll be the submissive one on occasion. while he enjoys being in control, he enjoys blindly trusting his partner just as much.

experience.

although he’s met many people who have been sexually interested in him, he rarely had the same feelings for them. he’s had sex before, but it’s been a few years since his last encounter. it’s completely understandable for him to be nervous the first few times he has sex again.

favorite position.

any position where he can see your face. zhongli adores being able to see the pleasure he’s giving you, & he loves being able to simply lean in & kiss you at any given moment. he’s particularly fond of having one of your legs over his shoulder, though. & to be fair, it allows for deeper penetration, so it’s quite understandable as to why he enjoys it so much.

goofy.

he sees sex as a serious act, & doesn’t joke around much. during foreplay, there may be a joke here & there, but beyond that? absolutely not. if you were to joke around though, he wouldn’t mind too much.

hair.

trimmed short, & he tries his best to keep it in a neater shape than what it naturally is. his pubic hair does match the hair on the top of his head perfectly, though… so, it might glow, too.

intimacy.

frequent whispers of “i love you,” accompanied by many slow kisses, gentle touches, & words of praise… or making you beg like a common whore for him to fuck you, only to leave you on the edge over & over again. it depends on his mood, really.

jack off.

while he doesn’t masturbate often – he gets embarrassed simply thinking about it – he always does it to the thought of his lover. he’d be absolutely mortified if you were to catch him in the act, though. i don’t think he’d be able to look you in the eyes for a day or so.

kinks.

begging, breeding, creampies, edging, gentle/slow sex, light bondage, lingerie, overstimulation, praise, & “sir/master.” he’d be quite vanilla before exploring these things with his partner, though.

location.

as long as it’s in a private area, he doesn’t care too much about where you two have sex. on a desk or counter? alright, as long as you’re comfortable. on a couch? okay, but let him know if you’d like to go to the bed. in truth, the bed’s his favorite place. i mean, it’s always going to be comfortable, & it’s a relatively easy clean up compared to a desk… he has a record of shoving all the shit on the desk to the floor before fucking you on it, unfortunately.

motivation.

dirty talk, lingerie, & teasing touches are the main things that get him going. he fucking loves lingerie – simply telling him that you have some on under your clothes is enough to get him hot & bothered. the thought of you sitting on the bed in that, waiting for him to walk in, knowing he’ll pounce on you the moment he sees you… fuck, it’s so sexy to him. for dirty talk & teasing touches, however, you’ll have to know what you’re doing in order to get a rise out of him. lightly stroking his thigh, just a little too close to his dick, or gently touching his sides… whispering how bad you want – no, need – him, telling him that you don’t care what he does to you, you just need him to fuck you however he wants… &, to really seal the deal, throw a “sir” or two in there.

no.

he could never agree to hurting you. while spanking may be iffy, slapping & punching are a hard no. there’s also the whole “consensual non-consent” thing, & it’s really because he’s afraid of you forgetting the safeword – & he doesn’t understand the appeal of it. after all, your partner letting you know they really want to have sex is one of the hottest things they could do… in his opinion, at least.

oral.

he prefers receiving over giving, but it’s only out of fear that he’s not truly pleasing you when he preforms oral on you. he knows it’s a bit silly – after all, why would his lover fake it? wouldn’t they rather guide him to where their sweet spots are? still, he can’t help but feel a bit insecure. of course, that won’t stop him from fulfilling your wishes. zhongli just doesn’t know what it is about you that makes him love oral so much. perhaps its the way you look up at him through your eyelashes, with those beautiful, teary eyes of yours. maybe it’s the way you swallow his cum effortlessly… or, maybe it’s the way your throat tightens when you choke on his dick.

pace.

agonizingly slow for the first few moments, & then he slowly goes faster & faster. he always tries to stay in control of himself, though; you’re going to have to either catch him in a more dominant mood, or rile him up to the point where he doesn’t care about control anymore. pounding inside of you & gripping you so tightly his fingertips leave multicolored bruises – giving you no time to rest before the next thrust.

quickie.

while he doesn’t particularly like them, he may have one with you once in a blue moon. it really depends on how riled up you’ve got him, & if you’re the one who initiates the quickie. otherwise, he’d much rather wait until the two of you got home.

risk.

while he doesn’t like taking extreme risks, he’s up for a some smaller ones here & there. it usually takes a bit of persuasion on your end, though.

stamina.

surprisingly, he can go for hours on end – the only things that stop him are other responsibilities & his lover getting tired. if he has a rare free day on his calendar, though, he might dedicate most of that day to having sex with you. it depends on how riled up he’s gotten.

toys.

doesn’t own any. why would he use them anyway? half the fun is using them on someone else – or so he thinks, at least. if his partner wants toys, though, he’d consider purchasing one or two.

unfair.

he only teases if he’s provoked. once he starts, though, you’ll soon regret your actions. he won’t be bold enough to tease you under a table at the the third round knockout, for example, but he will be bold enough to utter absolutely filthy things into your ear that leave you a blushing, breathless mess… & this man has the nerve to say: “are you alright, love? you feel a bit warm.” with a worried look on his face, every single damn time.

volume.

when he’s dominant, you can expect deep, soft groans & almost inaudible whispers of praise. “you’re adorable when you say my name like that. keep saying it.” “you take my cock so well, huh? you’re doing so good, my love. you’re doing so good.”

when he’s submissive, though, you’ll receive moans & whimpers that seem to be a bit higher-pitched than normal. he’s perfectly content with biting a pillow & muffling his noises, but then you wouldn’t get to hear him begging. “ahh– please, i need you so bad, my love. please– fuck–!” “it feels so good, it’s– it’s too much–!”

wild card.

fantasizes about his partner degrading him, although, he’s not sure why. perhaps it’s the whole “disrespecting a god” thing.

xray.

considering that he’s taller than average & has a slimmer build, one would assume that he isn’t too toned underneath those clothes of his. however, you’ll be pleasantly surprised once you discover that his looks truly are deceiving. for his cock, though, he’s average length, & far above average in girth. it’s definitely going to hurt if you aren’t adequately prepared beforehand – even if you don’t, though, the pain will fade into pleasure within a few moments.

yearning.

over the years, he’s become amazing at suppressing his desires. on some days, though, his drive seems to skyrocket – he doesn’t understand why, either. those are the days when, as soon as he’s done with his shift at the wangsheng funeral parlor, he heads straight home & either masturbates or has sex with his lover. usually, though, he’s up for it whenever his partner is – that is, unless they’re trying to have sex when he’s doing something important, of course.

zzz.

this man never seems to truly get tired – in fact, he’ll almost always be the first one to get up & start cleaning up any messes the two of you made. he’ll always lay back down & make himself take a quick nap with you after he’s done cleaning, though.

❥ stole this idea & (most of the) alphabet from @rosens-new-dawn. 💞

#zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #seth.req #smut

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sailorhyunjinz · 3 years

Text

𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖘 - 𝕿𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊𝖗 (I & II)

Pairing; Bartender!Changbin x Fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warning ; ANGST!! SMUT!! skz side characters, semi-slow burn, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers, depiction of mental disorders, consumption of alcohol, under the influence, self hatred, complicated family relationships, depersonalisation/derealisation, depression, alternative universe, implications of su-cide, semi su-cide attempt, su-cidal!reader, mentions of blood and injury, mentions of k-dnapping and murder, alcoholism, mentions of selfh-rm, mentions of knifes, gaslighting, smoking, mentions of weapons, mentions of pregnancies, a bunch of crying, fainting, toxic masculinity, mentions of undereating, vague hints to eating d-sorders, mentions of crimes, mentions of blades, fainting, mentions of dr-g use, arguments, mentions of savior complex, mentions of childhood neglect, yelling, mentions of hangovers, parental issues (lmao cherry just say daddy issues), arguments.

𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 ; piv, protected sex (use of condom), missionary, dry humping, nicknames, sex in semi-public place, fingering, corruption kink if you squint, orgasm (m/f), hair pulling, drooling, getting caught, masturbation, clitoral stimulation.

(fic header made by @yjeongs! thank u cora <33)

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ; 14.3 k + 10.0 k

ℜ𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢 𝔇𝔞𝔱𝔢 ; 6 pm CEST Saturday 14/8

You hissed at the pain in your knees as you grabbed onto the metal handle that opened the phonebooth, stepping inside.

The inside was surprisingly warm, as if someone had been there moments prior. A ripped piece of paper was taped on the glass pane to the right of the payphone, something that seemed like a phone number but could impossibly be since it wasn’t a full number.

[1800-xxx]

You looked at the payphone and then back at the washed out paper, the edges of the note curling and stained with yellow. Only when you looked back at the phone again did you notice the keypad. To your surprise there was an “x” button. Your head felt heavy, deciding to lean it against the other side of the stuffy phonebooth, your hot breath creating steam on the glass.

You wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

Your entire body ached, let alone the blood that was dripping down your leg. The rusty payphone connected to the actual phone, a black handle connected to the underside of the machinery by a coiled metal rope. You picked up the phone, putting it against your ear and groaned when you remembered that you needed coins in order for the payphone to work

[0.5 gold/minute]

You rubbed your eyes. Gold? You sighed loudly, your knees barely being able to hold your weary body any longer. Hesitant fingers pressed the number that was jot down on the lined note, pressing each key accordingly. You pressed the last x before you pressed the “call” button, not expecting anything to happen.

But after a few seconds a female automated voice spoke to you.

“Thank you for calling. This place only appears to the suffering. If you are receiving this call, congratulations! Your prayers have been answered. Drink the liquid in the paper cup above this payphone. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid. Drink the liquid.”

Taglist;

IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED COMMENT/SEND TO INBOX/DM

~ M I N O R S D O N O T I N T E R A C T ~

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missallsundaes · 3 years

Note

Z Y W for Marco? Tho honestly all the letters is also awesome <3 thanks

I know this is You, you owe me all of the Sanji's xx I will collect soon x NSFW Alphabet - Marco the Pineapple Phoenix

A - Aftercare

A Doctor with the best bedside manor, obviously. Though seriously he's so laid back that I think aftercare might not be his first thought. Is just as likely to throw you a towel and be like "alright good romp, see you later."

B = Body part

LEGS. This man loves legs. From hips to thighs, calves to ankles. This man loves to see your legs. Loves to hold them up in bed, or see them over his shoulders. Wants to be able to touch them and run his hands across your skin.

C = Cum

Obviously pineapple is like.. the key to sweet tasting cum so he's all set in that department. Seriously tho, he's a doctor and he probably has a good diet and drinks enough water so, he would have nice tasting cum. His cum is thick though, and if he comes on you it's likely to be short bursts instead of long shots.

D = Dirty Secret

I don't know if this is so much a dirty secret but he loves a threesome. Very often his go to is Ace so uh I hope you like him also. Probably won't ask you for one, Ace just shows up one day like "what up lets fuck" and Marco just lets him join.

E = Experience

Oh he definitely knows what he's doing. Anatomy classes are paying off in the bedroom for SURE. Plus he's had enough practice to know his timings, to know where and when to do things, and to make you scream just right.

F = Favourite Position

As previously mentioned, your legs over his shoulders. Either against a wall with you folded over him, or your back against the bed/table/ground and your knees over his shoulders, he just wants to be able to hit you deep and touch your legs.

G = Goofy

He's too laid back not to be a little bit sarcastic and joke with you, but if he's playing the part for you he could be serious.

H = Hair

Trimmed neat, also blonde. His body hair is pretty minimal other than his legs and pubes.

I = Intimacy

I think intimacy for Marco depends on if you are in a serious committed relationship or if this is a fling. He only puts in as much effort as he would get back, maybe less. But if you were long term, he would be intimate with you in the right ways to suit him.

J = Jack Off

Not above a little wank session, but he doesn't really need to often, he doesn't have a huge sex drive and when he does have urges he usually just saves them for when you're around.

K = Kink

Marco likes a bit of power play, though he's always the dominate player. He would do a bit of butt stuff if you wanted to try it on him, would teach you where his prostate was so that he actually enjoyed it. Doesn't mind being watched (read: enjoys being watched). As mentioned above, enjoys a threesome.

L = Location

His desk #1 turn on. Blow job under the desk while he's working? Yes. Throwing you over the desk? Yes. Sat in his chair with you riding him? Yes.

M = Motivation

Your reactions to his teasing touches, or your soft moans when he kisses your neck or ears.

N = NO

Doesn't care for high maintence s/o. He's too laid back and needs someone just as chill as he is. Also not into anything "unsanitary" or dangerous.

O = Oral

Honestly, foreplay is main event for Marco a lot of the time. He would spend time giving you oral, and since he knows his way around, god would you enjoy it. He loves receiving oral as well, especially if it's a cheeky risky blow job under his desk or in a closet.

P = Pace

Slow and steady. Knows where he's going and boy is he gonna get you there.

Q = Quickie

Quickies are fine. He doesn't have a high sex drive but he does enjoy a bit of a tumble in risky places sometimes, and those tend to be quickies.

R = Risk

He's definitely game to try things out. Will try risky positions or locations. As long as you're not at risk of being hurt.

S = Stamina

Marco's got low stamina, he pretty much has one orgasm in him and he's done, but he's VERY good at holding it until he's fully ready and done with the deed. Could tease you for hours and wear out your own stamina before he needs to cum himself.

T = Toy

Would let you peg him. Doesn't mind using toys on you if that's what you want. Sometimes gets off on using the cool metal of doctor equipment (like a stethoscope) to make you moan.

U = Unfair

OH he loooooves to tease you. Loves to edge you. Your desperate whines and begs are what he longs for.

V = Volume

He's not a very loud person in bed, in general maybe makes a few grunts or moans. However he does like to tease and talk to you during.

W = Wild Card

Fucking loves lingerie and sexy outfits. ESPECIALLY if they compliment your legs.

X = X-Ray

Marco is a tall man and you BET he's got equipment to match. Sturdy, good size, and very very nice girth.

Y = Yearning

As previously mentioned, he doesn't have a high sex drive, but when he gets going he's going for a while.

Z = ZZZ

Depends on if this is a romp or a full session. If you're going for hours, he will wrap you up in his arms and sleep with you, possibly not even giving you time to clean yourself up first.

#marco the phoenix #marco the phoenix x reader #marco x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #n/sfw alphabet #n/sfw

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mrsmctominay · 3 years

Note

i don’t know if u write for john stones and if u don’t that’s fine but can i get a nsfw alphabet for him? thank youuu

NSFW Alphabet- John Stones

A = Aftercare John will give you some time to yourself afterwards- maybe 10 minutes or so- just because he wants to make sure you're cleaned up right and he knows if you do it yourself then it will be done to your liking. Once you're done, he will usually make you a cup of tea and ask if you want to cuddle.

B = Body part He is in love with your boobs and he's bad at hiding it. Whenever you wear a low cut top or a tight dress, his eyes are glued to them. He loves everything about them. The size, the shape, the way they feel when they are in his hands or the way they look when you're cupping them in your own hands.

C = Cum He will cum wherever you want him to, he doesn't have a preferred place. He can tell just by your face where you want him to cum, but it drives him crazy when you use your words. The way your eyelashes flutter when you stick your tongue out so that he can cum on it is so hot, or the way you bite your bottom lip in order to let him know that it's okay for him to cum inside of you.

D = Dirty Secret John wants to try anal, secretly. He knows you trust him, and he trusts you too. It's something he's always thought about it but has never found the right moment to bring it up. He's sort of waiting for the day that you bring it up.

E = Experience With John being a bit older than you, he has a bit more experience than you do, which you appreciate. It's nice being able to share the moment with someone that already knows what he's doing rather than having to explain your pleasures to him.

F = Favourite Position Anything where he can see your boobs jiggle, as I say, he does love them.

G = Goofy You always try to keep a poker face but he always pokes a smile out of you somehow. He will stare into your eyes before a smile creeps onto his face, in turn making you smile too.

H = Hair He is well groomed down there, clean shaven. He says it makes him feel cleaner, which is fine with you. Obviously, with his job he sweats a lot so it's better for him.

I= Intimacy He always compliments you during sex. He likes to let you know how beautiful you look when he's fucking you, or when his cum is on your face. He kisses every bare inch of your body, letting you know that you're his and only his.

J = Jack Off If you guys can't make time for a facetime call when he's away, he will just take care of himself. Sending you pictures and videos along the way, of course.

K = Kink John is into thigh riding. He loves it when you pleasure yourself using his leg. The way your juices glisten on his tattoo turns him on instantly.

L = Location He's rather traditional when it comes to location. He'd rather have you on the bed than anywhere else. It's comfy, it's spacious, it's perfect.

M = Motivation

It's the little things. The way you stroke the back of his neck or the way your little hand plays with his fingers. The way you look when you're concentrating on something or the way you say his name. H O T.

N = NO He's apprehensive about involving other people, although he is a little jealous and doesn't like the idea of sharing you, that isn't what worries him. He doesn't like that whoever the other person is could take pictures or videos which could then lead to getting leaked which would lead to everyone see that him and his girlfriend had a threesome.

O = Oral John is good at oral, and he knows it. Although, he does prefer receiving. Seeing you in between his legs desperate to make him cum using only your mouth is so sexy. Lapping up his cum like the good girl you are.

P = Pace He's slow, gentle and loving unless you ask him to do otherwise, then he wont hold back and go in with everything he has. "Whatever the lady wants", he would say. He looses all touch of his gentlemanly side and goes INNNNN. (pun intended)

Q = Quickie There's only one situation where a quickie is likely to happen and that's when you pick him up after a match, especially after a loss. When you're horny from watching him play and he can't wait any longer to get out his pent up frustration, you just end up fucking in the car.

R = Risk Neither of you are a big fan of risk, it doesn't really turn either of you on. Risk comes with consequences and you're both not prepared to face them.

S = Stamina It depends how horny he is. If you're the one that's put it on him then he will only go once or twice, but with good time in between. However, if he's the horny devil, he could go for forever.

T = Toy He's a fan of the vibrating panties. He especially likes it when you wear them to team dinners, knowing that it's so discrete and only the two of you know it's there. That's it really, he'd rather give you an orgasm by himself. (other than the panties obviously)

U = Unfair He's a tease in public, not so much actually in the moment. Light touches under the table at dinner or wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt when he's playing football in the garden with the boys.

V = Volume He's quite vocal in bed. The breathless moans and the grunting into your mouth as he kisses you really turns you on. It echo's through your mind until the next time you have sex, it's a never ending cycle.

W = Wild Card Wear his medals during sex and it's over for you. The way the metal dangles over your chest or the way you make it drape down your back makes him insanely horny.

X = X-Ray John is an impressive size. You feel like he may split you in half one of these days.

Y = Yearning He likes to show you a good time, but there's a time and a place. If he's really pissed off then you know just to leave him be until he's calmed down a bit... then you can get it on.

Z = ZZZ He loves his sleep don't get me wrong, but he'd rather caress you until you're sound asleep before he does the same.

#johnstonesfluff #johnstonesoneshot #johnstonesblurb #john stones imagine #john stones #stonesblurb #stonesoneshot #stones imagine #stonesfluff #premierleagueblurb #premierleaguesmut #premier league imagine #premier league

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 4 years

Note

NSFW (whole alphabet) for Maul?

A/N: PLEASE REMEMBER TO COMMENT AND REBLOG IF YOU LIKE THIS! HEADCANONS NEED LOVE TOO YOU KNOW! (Also the tags are not working because they hate me)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He’s gentle, shockingly so. No matter how rough or intense, his entire demeanor shifts. He treats you like glass; caressing your skin, cleaning your mess, and reveling in the lingering warmth. He becomes one clingy bitch is what I’m getting at here.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your throat. He loves how you leave it so open to him, to kiss or bite or squeeze as he wishes. It’s a sign of trust, not to mention it leads down to your chests and all the other soft parts attached. (He’s a boob man, that’s all I’m saying)

As for himself, he likes his hands. They still hold his true strength. They can still wield the force to his will; to destroy his enemies or to place a gentle touch to your cheek. He’s amazed that you can allow him to touch you after how much his hands have done.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He makes a mess whenever you fuck. He likes to cum on you; on your tits, stomach, back, face, anywhere. But he really loves cumming inside you and watching it drip from your sex. Even if he can’t give you children, the idea of burying his seed in you is an instinct he can’t shake. Would love nothing more than to keep his cock inside you and fill you again and again with him cum until it spills out on the bed.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

There are times he purposefully makes you angry because he knows how you’ll punish him later. He’s not sure if you’ve caught on or not, but either way you play into his scheme perfectly.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not very before you. He was taken by Sidious at a very young age; as a Sith he was trained to forgo attachments and obey his master at every turn. Sidious would not allow his apprentice any chance to form a connection with another aside from taking him back to Dathomir to fulfill a coming of age ritual where he was taken by a Night Sister. After that, nothing.

But, for what he lacks in experience, he makes up for in his willingness to learn. He asks what you want, what you like. He feels your reactions through the force and demonstrates a control you hadn’t found in previous lovers. He can be patient when it counts.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He loves it when you’re both kneeling, with you straddling his waist a he thrusts up into you. He’s able to reach deep inside you while allowing either of you to gain control as you wish it. Not to mention easy access to your throat and breasts as he clings to you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Maul is 99.9% of the time completely serious during sex. Either his focus is entire on your pleasure or you’ve given him permission to work out his frustrations using your body. The only time he’d crack a joke is if he’s feels particularly smug about the way he’s making you feels and wants to tease you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

No hair down below, because, well...he doesn’t really have a natural below. I doubt Mother Talzin added hair just for the fun of it.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

As I said before Maul has two modes; I need to fuck away my feelings OR you are the most important thing in the galaxy let me show you why. When he’s in mode two, he’s the most intimate and romantic partner you can ask for, almost desperate in his attempt to show you how you make him feel. If it’s option one, you’ll have to wait until after the sex to get the same treatment.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Pre-Naboo, he kept it on the down low. He could only allow himself a moment’s release when his master wasn’t around. And even then, it was only when he was particularly stressed or angry. It was done quickly with no real thought of pleasure, just some kind of release if he couldn’t do it through violence.

After Naboo, it’s not really something he does because well...there’s not much down there for a good long while and after he gets some of his...parts back, he meets you. With you, he doesn’t feel as compelled to use his hands.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink. He can’t give you children, obviously, but there’s an almost instinct there. Just another thing Kenobi took away form him.

Also, not sure if it’s a kink, but he’s an absolute switch. One minute he’s squeezing your neck while using you as his personal cum bucket. The next, he’s tied to the bed begging and promising you the galaxy if you just let him cum.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a bit of an exhibitionist. As much as he wants to be the only one to see you naked and writhing underneath him, there’s something about fucking you on the throne of Mandalor that sends a thrill up his spine. Anyone can walk in and know that he’s the one making you feel this way. He has the power to fuck you in front of the whole of Death Watch if he wanted to and none of them could touch you. They would know you were his and as their leader they would not dare oppose him.

So, in terms of most common place, your bedroom. In terms of most thrilling place, the throne room, followed by the war room, and then the training room.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You getting angry is the hottest thing in the galaxy to him. If you direct that anger into destroying your enemies in combat, even better. He’ll take you the second you’re alone in the ship.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Roleplaying. It’s you and him, that’s it. He doesn’t want or need to “spice things up”.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers giving. He loves your taste and how easily he can get you to cum with just his tongue. He can feel your pleasure through the force which only drives his further. Granted he needs to be mindful of where his horns are when you clamp him head between your thighs but that’s neither here nor there.

He’ll certainly accept you going down on him, but he knows it’s not as pleasurable for you to have a metal cock in your mouth no matter how good it feels for him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He can be slow an sensual, but it almost always devolves into rough desperation. He’s a man of wild passions and it shows in the marks on your thighs the next morning.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You’re almost always the one to initiate them. He says he can wait until the evening, but he’s often left working well into the night and forgets. You take it upon yourself to strive into his office and tell him you need a good fuck. That will get him away from the paper work long enough to leave your legs shaking and his mind a little more clear.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s willing to try something you propose so long as you discuss it properly before hand. He wants to make sure you’re safe before trying anything.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

It’s absolutely insane how high his stamina is. For one, he’s got a mechanical cock that doesn’t actually get soft even after he cums. Second, his reliance on the force allows him to recoup faster than normal. He can go for an many rounds as you can stand for as long as you want.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

That will be a negative. He doesn’t have any toys and the idea of you having a toy when all you have to do is ask he finds more than a little insulting.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He always does it when he’s trying to win an argument or make a point, and it’s infuriating. He likes hearing you beg or admit he was right all while he teases you clit with the promise of more.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Maul gets loud. It’s almost a defiance. His master would not allow him anything like this singular happiness with another being and now he’s taking it at his own pleasure. He screams and growls and moans and begs and every other noise in the book. He wants people to hear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Maul wants to have kids with you, and that fact that he can’t really aches at him. He wants something that is truly his own; a legacy outside of the Sith, a final defiance to the master who abandoned him. They would be the best of both of you and unparalleled in their power. Nothing would stand in their way. He can see it in his minds eye every time you fall asleep in his arms. But, it can never be. If Mother Talzin had figured out a way to make life without the need of Zabrak men, he wouldn’t have been a Night Brother in the first place.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Like I’ve said, Maul’s entire lower half is mechanical, including his cock. Mother Talzin made him one which retracts back in when he’s not aroused. It’s shaped like a Zabrak male: three ridges, each wider than the last giving him good length and girth (look up Nova: Bad Dragon). It also gives him pleasure, which is better than a dilo and excretes a synthetic cum when he climaxes.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s not so much a sex drive as a yearning for you. There are times he just wants you, to hold you close, to bury himself inside you and forget anything exists outside of you. It’s in flux, but it’s certainly higher than most men you’ve known. You’re having sex at least every other night if not more.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t dare fall asleep until you do. He likes the feeling of your body relaxing beside his as you drift off. He likes knowing you trust him to keep you safe, even in sleep. Only when he knows there’s nothing lurking in the dark to take you away does he finally fall asleep.

#darth maul #maul #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #the clone wars #star wars #star wars imagine #lemon

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hentaimommi · 4 years

Text

ᴄʟᴜʙ ᴛᴇᴀꜱᴇ. | ᴋᴇɪɢᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴀᴍɪ (prohero!fem! reader)

Warnings: smut

[A/N]: I had a dream about this last night oml. think like- 2013 night club vibes. I'm also giving you a quirk.

Quirk: Bunny

[C L U B T E A S E]

The night life of a pro-hero was a beautiful one. The exclusive club used to house the many parties held was in downtown Japan. The tallest building, on the highest floor. You personally opted to go on your day off. Normally you could catch many heroes in their hero outfits, but you liked to get dressed and actually look presentable.

At about 18:00, you began your lengthy process of getting ready. Beginning with curling your hair, then moving to cosmetics which were a pretty big deal. A nice eye look to match your dress, which was skin tight and silver. It sounds cheap; but the dress was the most expensive clothing item you owned. Pairing it with simple earrings and a pair of black-strap heels, you were set for the party that was starting at around 21:00.

Throwing on a large, white and puffy jacket, you checked yourself in the mirror. "No, black would look better." You then changed, now smoothing your dress and exciting the front door to your penthouse. The elevator ride was a long one, nervous as usual. Many male pro-hero's would be there, naturally making the energy a little tense. Stepping from the elevator, you walked out to the limo that had been pre-ordered for tonight.

Many of the paparazzi were already outside, taking shot after shot of you getting into the car. The air felt thick and you entered it. "Hello, Miss (H/N). How are you on this fine evening?" Your shofar asked, adjusting the mirror and beginning to go forward. "Oh, just fine." You responded; eyes locked outside the window. Your gut was wrenching, no matter how many parties you went to, the same feeling creeped over your shoulder each time.

Upon arrival of the very large building, the limo was parked outside of many velvet ropes. An array of guards were standing outside, blocking any exit there could have been. You thanked the driver, stepping out and into the cool night air. As you did so, the guards looked over to you, watching you walk through each velvet rope to their location. The guard at the main entrance smiled, letting you past and into the buildings lobby. Eyes were locked onto you, as they were everytime. People asking for autographs and greeting you; but all you wanted was to get to the top floor.

Once more you stepped into an elevator, pressing the very last button and prepping yourself for the long ride. Just as the doors closed, though, a large hand stuck through the middle of the two large metal blocks. You questioned it, until a certain pro-hero who had been climbing the charts walked in. "(H/N)! Glad I caught ya! I need up to the top floor." He entered the room, towering over you a little bit. "Lucky for you, Hawks, I'm going there too." You responded, eyes nervously finding your hands- which were fumbling.

The ride was silent for the most part, but like Hawks, he couldn't be completely quiet. "You look nice," He scratched the back of his neck, tilting his head a bit. Your blush was evident, also by the fact your leg began hopping. Unlike Mirko, your quirk wasn't strength based; it was reflex based, meaning you were toned down to the muscle. Hawks noticed this, a light smirk playing on his lips. Finally, the doors opened. "See you later, little birdy." He spoke, walking out into the greeting of the party. You followed.

"(H/N)!" A voice grumbled far above you. Turning around, you were welcomed into the warm presence of Fatgum and his interns: Suneater and Red Riot. Red Riot smiled, shaking your hand. Suneater only nervously turned around. You tilted your head in sympathy, then looked back up. "Hey Fatgum. What's up?" You asked, him following you to the bar as you moved smoothly through the crowd.

"Well I was wondering- I have this friend, and he needs someone to dance with. Would you be willing to help him out?" He proposed, paying for your drink over the bar. You thought for a moment, kicking back a shot and removing your coat. Many men had their gaze trapped on you. The quirk you had gave you large legs; also affecting your glutes. "Yeah, sure." Fatgum smiled watching you turn around, signaling someone over. "Yeah, can I get a martini? Make it dry, please." The bar tender nodded, then money for the exact price of the drink shot over the counter. Turning back, Hawks was standing with Fatgum. Your eyes widened a little, realizing he had meant, by his friend- the winged pro-hero.

"Don't worry. I'll pick up the tab. Wanna dance chickadee?" He asked, that same smirk as earlier meeting your gaze. You nodded, him taking your hand and softly leading you over to the dance floor. (Song: Smack That - Akon) Hawks wore his wings out nearly protectively over you as you both met the floor. You took a liking to the song decently quickly; finding yourself dancing wildly to it. You had the attention of most men in the club as your ass shook to the beat. Unknowing of this, Hawks pulled his wings over your ass and covered it from other men's gaze.

You, however, had your eyes closed. The feeling was lucid almost, barely buzzed at all. You enjoyed the flashing lights of the dance floor partnered with the bass of the song playing loudly though the speakers. The song switched (The Way I Are - Timbaland), Hawks now wrapping his hands around your waist loosely. You're almost sure this isn't what Fatgum meant by 'dancing', but his hands were so warm, touch so inviting as you both danced lewdly on each other.

The stares weren't as heavy as before, Hawks making slit eyes at each male who would attempt to catch your gaze. "Hawks?" You asked, turning around, hips still rocking to the beat. He looked down to you, delighted to see your face. Fatgum hadn't asked you by chance for him to dance with you, he had set it up well aware you all were friends. "Yeah?" He asked, smiling (Candy Shop - 50 Cent). You smiled at the change of the song, seductive eyes batting up to the avain male.

"Would you wanna take this somewhere else?" You asked, pushing your chest comfortably up to his. He was taken aback by your question, thinking you would at least want an emotional connection before doing anything beyond hot and heavy dancing. "You bet that fat ass, bunny." He spoke into your ear, wings still protectively over you. Goosebumps fled your skin. "You can call me Keigo, by the way." He smiled. "Call me (F/N)." Silencing, you dragged his hand back and away from the dance floor.

No one questioned you all as the music faded behind you, becoming muffled in the distance. You stopped at what you knew were the happening VIP spots. "Do you own a room?" You asked, pushing yourself against the wall. Nervously Keigo nodded, pulling keys from his pocket. It was his turn to lead you this time, taking you to the farthest back room there was. These were known as 'sober rooms', made by commission for heroes to sober up in. They had a couch, fireplace, and a small bar set up for luxury- at least in Keigo's.

As you walked in, his hand on the small of your back, he could feel the heat your body had been radiating. "I've never brought anyone back here before. Do you want a drink?" He asked, already pouring himself a whiskey. You sat down on the very large, nearly conversation pit sized couch. "Yeah, do you have any coconut rum?" He lifted a brow, "Yeah, weirdo." He chuckled a bit, pouring the drink and walking over to you. His outfit was nice. Tight red shirt, black suit, extremely nice dress shoes with matching black socks.

As he sat down, you pushed off your heels and turned to him, looking innocently with large eyes. Although, he knew you were far from innocent. The music which was once flooding your ears, was now a meek hum in the background. Keigo leaned down, wrapping his arm around your shoulders- then pressing you into a kiss. He tasted like whiskey and mint, cologne flooding your nose and countering the taste of his lips.

His kisses were sloppy, untamed as they moved from your lips down to your neck and chest. You weren't drunk, but you could get that way off of his touch. His hands softly trailed over your entire figure, leading to your ass. He held a hefty grip onto it, pulling you seamlessly into his lap. Like you weighed nothing.

"Keigo, oh my fucking god.." You moaned, hands looping into his golden locks. You could feel his hard cock pressed up against your think panties. Your thighs straddled him thickly, engulfing his own. He liked it, hands not being able to leave your ass and thighs for even a moment. "Birdy, do you know how fat that ass is? What I'd do to make it all mine." He gawked, pressing his cock up to you.

"Do it." You almost whispered back, pushing yourself up and lying on your back. Keigo came between your legs, trailing sloppy and wet kisses up your inner thigh. You could nearly feel his hot breath on your cunt, so sensitive and ready to be touched by him. “Keigo, please don’t tease me.” You softly begged, watching as his slit eyes come to meet your own wide orbs. “’nt worry, Keigo’s gotcha..” He cooed, sweetly as possible. He then sat back up, adjusting his wingspan. You watched as the beautiful shade of red feathered outward, almost in a mating dance. He chuckled at you in awe, taking that moment to remove his pants. Soon your eyes would trail back down, seeing as he had removed his underwear too. “Your turn, baby.”

He took his time while taking off your panties, etching them seductively over your freshly shaven legs. Your hips pushed forward, almost begging for contact, drawing a low hum from the bird man. All he wanted was to take you in that moment. His wings fluttered happily seeing your wet cunt, knowing all it took was him teasing you to get there. “You have such a pretty pussy.” He leaned down, pulling you hips up and closer to him. Watching each move he made was interesting. He did nothing uncalculated, everything had a reason.

You shivered at the contact of his spit-soaked hand with your already wet cunt. He rubbed his fingers skillfully around, building you up. Your moans were lewd, long, and loud through the room. He didn’t seem to mind as he tore away the contact, Replacing his fingers with his cock tip. “Ready?” You nodded, still pushing your hips up. Keigo chuckled at your desperate attempts, holding you hips and pressing his cock into you. You whined, the girth stretching you out so well. Your legs automatic response was to lock around his waist. “K-Keigo-” He shushed you, palating his fingers into your tongue.

Watching as he started to thrust in and out, his face contorting in pleasure; his cock twitching inside of you. His moans were like a sweet song, spilling at each thrust. You felt his cold rings meet your leg, pulling your leg above his shoulder to hit deeper, kissing your sweet spot with each thrust. He knew what he was doing, too, making sure you could hear every single moan that spilled from his lips, which were pink and swollen. “Yeah, you like my big fat cock? Say you like it, tell me how much you like this pro-hero cock.”

“Oh Kei, it feels so good- please, don’t quit.” You begged, fingernails scraping up his previously unmarked skin. He made sure to mark you back, too. Leaving purple marks up your chest, stopping just at your neck. You could feel it, the coil that had been in the works from the moment he pushed himself inside you. Your legs began to shake, Keigo feeling himself starting to twitch inside of you. There were no words, only incoherent moans that overflowed from the both of you. Your orgasms hit at the same time, your hands gripping into his shoulder blades desperately. His hands dug into the sofa, nearly breaking the material.

“Kei, holy fuck, you’re so good!” You praised, throwing your head back in euphoria. When you both finished, the only thing to be heard was the panting breaths of the two of you. He collapsed finally overtop of you, nuzziling into your neck. You began to pet his hair, letting both of you breath out the intense feeling that had just gripped onto your body. “Fuck, baby, if I would have known you’d be that good, I would have asked you to dance myself.”

#takami keigo smut #hawks x you #hawks smut #hawks x reader #pro hero au #onenightstand #takami keigo x reader

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chreafysan · 4 years

Text

...and care, | Kurapika x reader

Genre: Fluff and smut

Fandom: HunterxHunter

Request: can i request some kurapika/fem reader fluff & cuddling (can be nsfw if u want!!)

Words: 1,322

Warnings: Cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex

____________________________________

It was the night before the auction at York New City and while everyone was nervous in their rooms, you wanted nothing more than to find Kurapika. He seemed to be the only one who even if he felt nervous, was immensely talented at hiding it. Something he wasn’t good at hiding though, was his rage, and so with nothing but care and love in your intentions, you walked to his room.

The knock of your hand against the hardwood of the door struck the blonde by surprise, as he was tensely sitting on his bed, staring at nothing but the birch floor. Yet, he felt he shouldn’t keep you waiting, your aura was visible to him, that much he was aware of, and thankful too. So he stood up and went to open the door, your (e/c) eyes being the first thing to come into his view. Immediately, did he feel all his tense muscles become soft. You held your hand out towards him so he could pull you in and close the door behind you.

Kurapika walked back to his bed and sat down, you had said nothing to each other in a few hours, and all you wanted right now was to comfort him since you knew of his vendetta for the troupe. So you sat down next to him and laid your head on his shoulder, that part of him tensing up a little before he sighed and let himself enervate in the feel of your cheek against a part of him. His eyes were still staring at the same spot he had been gawking at for hours, but you nor he needed to know that the floor held no importance to him. So he then put his arm around your shoulders to bring you closer, something you hadn’t expected at all, always used to his cold demeanor around everyone.

“You shouldn’t hold yourself captive,” you glanced up at him as you spoke, startled to find he wasn’t wearing his contacts, the brown in his eyes making a blush creep up on your cheeks. “Some of us get curious about you… and care, about you too,” you talked a bit hesitant, not wanting to see the red of anger in his eyes although it mesmerized you. Then he rested his head on top of yours, his other hand, the one without his chains came landing on top of yours, interlocking your fingers together.

“I want to keep myself focused,” he said, still without looking at you, his face stoic of any emotion. You felt as if something had scraped a line to your heart, which could only be felt drumming against you rapidly, your emotions of hurt, as if you didn’t matter to him, being interpreted through the sounds of your heart. How dare he, hold you close to him, even tightening his hold, just to tell you that you weren’t even for just a second, to his minds’ interest.

You scurried out of his hold and sat far away from his spot in the center of the bed. Instantly did he sit up and move towards you, a different look in his face, this time reflecting some other emotion, but you didn’t know that. With furrowed brows did you react to what was clearly a pair of lips landing at your neck, lightly sucking at the spot between your collarbone and neck met.

“Kurapika, what are you doing?” you asked just as he grabbed a hold of you and placed you on the center of the bed, your head is enveloped by the pillows as he left your neck once he was satisfied. When your eyes met, you saw they were it’s beautiful, majestic red, all holding what you could sense to be as lust. Was it lust for your body? For your blood to be spread around the fluffy white pillows?

“I care too, and I want to show you I do,” and so his hands started wandering around you, going all the way down to grasp your (f/c) shirt, pulling it up and away from both of you. Just as you pulled your head away from the material, his lips descended not on your neck, but on your lips, some of his hairs coming down to rest against your eyebrows. You giggled between kisses, as you finally felt his emotions coming through, trust being put on you by him.

While you were in bliss, he had pulled off your bra and pants, only escaping your lips to rest his blonde head against your stomach as he somehow managed to pull off his own attire away from his body.

“May I?” he asked, and you nodded your head, not once taking your eyes away from his face as it took off your panties with delicate movements, moving them softly out of your legs reach. Instantly did his concupiscent demeanor take over, landing his tongue upon your clit and swiping at the wetness enveloping it. Shyness crept against you as you let only soft moans come out of you, even when he grabbed a hold of your thighs to grip your squirming legs, where your groans of pleasure kept delicate.

“No, I want you to show your care too. So moan it,” he raised his head for only a second to show you those bright crystally rosy eyes, blooming with lust and desire for you. That was when you let go, and screamed out his name when you felt two fingers probe at a spot inside of you, hitting it repeatedly until they made you cum, he made you cum.

“Kurapika,” you sighed a much-needed breath. He came back up to look at you, lips covered with your juices, then he looked down again, and so did you. Finding your voice, you squeaked as you saw he had taken his underwear off, the head of his cock just barely touching your entrance. You took a long breath at the sight of it and just the thought of what was to come made you take a hold of his neck and bringing his lips back on top of yours.

Then while he kissed you, his member entered your body to be enveloped by your care as he was providing you with the same feeling, and many more. Kurapika started thrusting with slow movements, your moans, and his groans gradually increasing in volume as he hit just the right spot. You felt the metal of his chains on his hand as he grabbed a hold of your right leg, pulling it up to wrap around his waist, his movements increasing in speed.

As your screams of pleasure became constant, he realized you were about to cum again, just to know of the many emotions and noises he was eliciting out of you made him want to grant you his cum and the pleasure of release.

“Kurapika! Please, I’m gonna…” you moaned and let your head hang low as you came, Kurapika only slowing down his movements once he made sure he had let his lusts out and into you. His forehead came to rest on your shoulder as he pulled out of you, fingers running through his now sweaty hair as you both recovered your breath.

Then he came to rest on your side once he had cleaned you both up, the blanket covering your naked bodies as your head was now resting on his chest. You traced patterns on his skin as he sighed, chin resting on top of yours. You felt some of your hairs being pulled at by his fingers, chills running down your spine when he planted a kiss on top of your (h/c) locks.

Nothing more was spoken as the two of you fell asleep, waiting for the day and night of tomorrow. At least now you knew, that not only was the Phantom Troupe his focus, but so were you.

#hunter x hunter #kurapika #kurapika x reader #kurapika imagine #kurapika smut #kurapika fluff #kurapika oneshot #x reader

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

Text

The Cane (Part 4)

@flyboytracy asked:

Steampunk AU: five uses for a cane and one time Scott used it for its intended purpose 😘

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Aaargh, those migraines messed with my muse on this one. Had to fight it the entire way and the cane reference is tiny. Hope you enjoy it anyway ::hugs to all::

Many thanks to @janetm74 @tsarinatorment and @scribbles97 for all their help and amazing support of my crazy. And to @flyboytracy for asking in the first place.

This be Steampunk AU with a mix of John snark, a little bit of wee!Tracys in a little bit of peril, some selfless Scott, and a reason you don’t want to mess with Five or her pilot.

-o-o-o-

“This is very inconvenient.”

Scott stared at his brother in the dim light. “Is that an attempt at impersonating Lady Penelope?”

John stared back, dust drifting haphazardly off his hard helmet and goggles. “As you’ve said many times yourself, there is no use in panicking.”

He had to give his brother that. A sigh and he assessed their situation yet again, shining his torch about the space they found themselves in.

They were in a basement. It was likely that they were lucky, as all indications were that if they had been in any other part of the building, they would not be having this conversation or any other any time in the future. The basement had a wall of solid bedrock on one side, the building having been constructed with that in mind with half the plumbing bolted into the rock. Unfortunately, the rest of the structure had been built on sand, which promptly liquified when the earthquake hit.

Speaking of earthquake. “How long do you think before the next aftershock?”

John pulled out his notebook, took a note of the time on the watch he had strapped to his wrist, and scribbled down some math. “They are very unpredictable, but I’m hoping this last big one will give us some time. Or at least, Virgil some time to dig us out.”

Scott fiddled with his transmitter unit. There was no response on any frequency he attempted. Either the equipment was broken or something was stopping the signal from reaching his brothers. John had already pulled his apart and attempted a signal boost with no success.

They were both covered in dust, but fortunately uninjured.

But, for the moment, they were stuck.

Scott was not very good at sitting still.

“We may as well rest so we can be ready when needed.”

Scott grunted.

His brother ignored him and wiped off a large chunk of masonry with one leather-gloved hand and sat down. “You know Virgil will find us.”

Another grunt.

“Sit down, Scott. You can afford to take a minute to rest.”

He let out a breath and bit his lip, but with a sigh, he did as his brother asked.

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the sound of dust and rock settling.

“Why did you come back in?” John’s voice was crisp, clear and calm.

“You were in here.” Obviously.

“But now both of us are trapped, whereas if you had run like you should have, you could be assisting Virgil to dig me out.”

Scott’s lips thinned. What had been his line of thinking? Had there been a line of thinking? To be honest, all he could recall was the thought that John was under a building that was about to collapse and he needed saving.

His voice was a little rough. “Virgil will get us out.”

“Hmm.” John was not looking at him.

“What did you expect me to do? Leave you here to die?”

Aquamarine turned calmly to catch his eyes. “Better than both of us.”

“We’re not dead.”

“Pure chance.”

John was always ever so direct.

“But important nonetheless.”

John sighed. “Reminds me of the well.”

Scott eyed him. “Really? You’re going to bring that up again?”

“Eternally, my dear brother.” John’s smirk was exceedingly annoying. “Besides, it passes the time.”

“I would rather spend time finding a way out of here.” Scott shot to his feet and began pacing around the space they were stuck in.

“If you disturb something that brings the rest of the building down on us, I’m haunting you until the end of time.”

Scott slumped a little. His brother was right. Messing with the fragile pile was just asking for trouble. They were lucky to have room to breathe, much less walk around.

“This is the reason why you ended up in the well, Scott. You haven’t changed in twenty odd years.”

Scott glared at him. His little brother had been six at the time, Scott only ten. The two of them had gone beyond the borders of the Tracy farm in Kansas and into land they shouldn’t have. They were exploring. John, as always, was a little more cautious, but Scott was ever running ahead.

It was rather ironic that it was John who fell in the well.

It wasn’t long dug, but the planks covering it were flimsy and the winds from the previous day had obscured them. John had gone through them as if the planet had eaten him.

“John!”

Scott found his little brother clutching his leg at the bottom of the hole.

It wasn’t a very deep well, but it was deep enough to put his brother out of the reach of a ten-year-old.

“Scotty, my leg hurts.”

“I’ll get you out.” He looked around for something to help John.

Perhaps he knew in some part of his mind that this could be the wrong decision. He had no rope and no real way to reach his little brother. He should get help.

But he couldn’t leave Johnny here on his own.

The thought was terrifying from both of their perspectives.

Perhaps he would have thought it a little less terrifying if he realised what could happen if he didn’t fetch help. Because once he found a long enough stick, he reached over the edge and while doing his best to add to the length John couldn’t quite reach, he fell in the hole on top of his brother.

There were groans and tears after that.

Scott didn’t hurt himself. John had been heard to comment on multiple occasions thereafter that it was because he landed on a cushion he called brother.

Scott countered that by saying he was lucky he hadn’t been impaled by a bony limb of said scrawny brother.

In any case, they huddled together for warmth for thirty-six freezing hours until someone finally found them.

By then, both brothers were dehydrated and starving.

The lecture from their father was almost as long as their time in the well.

Their mother, pregnant with Gordon at the time, took ill with the fright and there was some seriously scary time until the little fish was born a month later…a touch early.

Virgil wouldn’t let either of his brothers out of his sight for a good year after the incident. The nine-year-old obviously terrified they would disappear again.

It became legendary in the Tracy household for good or bad.

“So, you’re saying, I should have gone for help?”

Something clunked in the pile of rubble.

John arched an eyebrow. “As I said, you haven’t learnt. Yes, Scott, you should not have dashed back into the collapsing building. When Virgil finds out, he’s going to scalp you.”

“I’m sorry that my first instinct is to protect my brothers.”

John rolled his eyes, both original and artificial. “Your first instinct should be to protect yourself so you can protect your brothers.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Scott shifted his weight onto one foot, cocking his hip. “Fine. Then explain Bermuda.”

“That was different. That was saving lives.”

“You rammed a twenty-eight gunned frigate with Five!”

“It was firing on a sinking civilian target full of over two hundred passengers, including my four brothers. Grandma was not aboard. It was a fair decision.”

Scott had to admit it had been spectacular, the huge, blue-grey, manta-ray-shaped Five had reared out of the ocean and sliced the pirate vessel in half.

International Rescue had fished the survivors out of the water and there had been minimal casualties, considering.

Five had taken damage, but her cahelium superstructure was designed to withstand something as simple as a mostly wooden hull. Some gentle care from Virgil, an assessment from Hiram, and she was declared fit and well.

They had disappeared for a while after that as the rumours ran riot. Lady Penelope managed to smooth any ruffled feathers at government level.

Scott had both commended and roasted John alive.

“You could have been killed.”

“So could have you, and Virgil and Gordon and little Allie. Was I supposed to sit back and watch?”

Another clunk from somewhere in the rubble.

Scott arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps, you know how I feel.”

“Of course, I know how you feel. We all do.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“Scott-“

But John was interrupted by another clank, this time clearly from one of the pipes against the wall.

“Virgil?” They both said it at once and hurried over to the rock face.

The clunk repeated itself and then started on a very familiar dot dot dot…

S C O T T

He reached behind and pulled his folded cane out of its sleeve on his back. Its metal tip shone dull brass in the yellow light.

He only had to tap one letter. Dot dot dot dash.

Three letters came back in a hurried jumble of excited hammering. F A B.

Then…S T A T U S?

J A N D S W E L L A N D M O B I L E.

S T A N D B A C K ?

F A B.

Assuming Virgil was referring to the rock wall as the point of origin, the two brothers stepped as far back from it as they could.

Moments later a rumble and hiss of gears, the crash of breaking masonry and daylight suddenly shot through part of the rubble. This was quickly followed by a massive but familiar brass claw reaching in and grabbing a large chunk of rock, disappearing with it. A crunch of gravel, shove of rock…a shout. “Scott, are you in here? John?” Their goggled and fully armour-suited brother pushed the rest of the way through the pile of broken building, both claws fully extended.

“Over here, Virgil.”

Their brother’s head turned in their direction and metal shoulders sank in relief. “Oh, thank god.”

Something shifted in the rubble pile and Virgil reacted, his right claw slamming into the chunk of masonry threatening to fall. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Scott didn’t need to be told twice as the remains of the building creaked around them in warning. Grabbing John’s arm, he hustled his brother out through the gap past Virgil.

The engineer’s eyes on the both of them.

No doubt there would be a medical examination in their near future.

Shoving John gently ahead of him, Scott turned to keep an eye on Virgil.

His metal clad brother stepped back carefully, letting rock fall in his wake.

Then, as if the final domino had been tipped, the entire pile began collapsing in on itself.

Scott took a step towards Virgil only to have his arm yanked on from behind.

“Damnit, Scott protect yourself!” John dragged him through the remains of the rubble as a cloud of dust roared behind them.

“Virgil!” He dug his heels in, fighting John’s hold.

“He’s wearing his armour, Scott. You are not! Move!”

It went against everything. He had to protect his brothers first. But John was right. Neither of them was wearing enough protection. Virgil was.

He had to trust.

Trust that Virgil knew what he was doing.

When put in those terms the answer was simple. Of course, he trusted Virgil.

Perhaps it was fate he had issues with.

John dragged him clear of the building and the cloud of dust. Two, nestled on her landing struts, was a wonderful sight.

And then Gordon was grabbing at him. Alan was yelling his name and there were dusty hugs and clunking helmets.

But still the cloud…

“Virgil?”

As if summoned, his brother strode out of the haze, cogs whirring and pneumatic systems hissing, metal glinting in the sun. His goggled eyes searching until they latched onto his brothers.

Thank god.

A matter of strides and he enveloped his engineer brother in a hug, metal suit and all. “Thanks, Virg.”

His brother exhaled in a huff. “What on Earth were you thinking?” And so began the rant about worrying about a brother encased in metal when a building is falling when he wasn’t and could have been killed with a single rock. You idiot.

It went on for some time.

John smirked at him for the entire tirade.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy #where there be dragons au #an attempt at Steampunk

29 notes · View notes

yupitsbambi · 4 years

Text

Wildflower | Lucifer | Heart Ache Mixtape | Part 2

S O N G : S E L F I S H - Madison Beer

Hello beauties and welcome to Part 2! Are you ready? I wasn’t. Now that we’re locked and loaded, let’s get this ball rolling! (P.S. tumblr is giving me nonstop trouble so sorry for any repeats or misspellings that I can’t edit. I’ll try and make the next part work without fighting me!) (P.P.S I fixed it sorry to anyone who’s eyes got burned out by that)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

P L O T : MC only asked one thing from Lucifer. He couldn’t deliver. Broken hearted and desperate to flee from Diavolo’s New Years Bash, there’s only one person she can turn to. How can Lucifer fix this, when he can’t even fix himself?

W O R D C O U N T : 5.5k (whoops my hand slipped)

W A R N I N G S : descriptions of a panic attack, a need to save face, and an absolutely horrid amount of curse words. Pain, arguing, betrayal. H e a r t b r e a k

When was the last time you took a breath?

Was it minutes ago? Days?

It felt like the floor had fallen out from underneath you. The world shifted left, and your knees began to shake.

How did I end up here?

Lucifer pulled himself away, pushing her gently by her shoulder. A look of hurt flashed across her face at his rejection, but he smiled softly at her. You watched them speak for a moment before he extended an arm and began to guide her toward the group gathered at the throne.

In.

You forced yourself to catch air in a choked gasp. It felt like a vice had clamped around your lungs. There was no room left in there for anything but betrayal.

Out.

The breath left you in waves, unable to grab control anymore. Your throat felt raw, like it was swelling in on itself. Your nose, which you had previously tried to stifle, now ran freely.

You were about to snap. You could feel the edges of your vision beginning to blur.

How could this happen?

How the hell did it come to this?

And what would everyone think?

You can’t let them see you like this.

A shock of agony threatened to crawl from your mouth, but with blistering force, you pushed it down. All you wanted to do was collapse, to give in to this aching weight on your shoulders. Why did it have to be with her?

No matter the strain, your pride was interrupting you at every turn. Intruding on the replay of the scene that had just played out in front of you was the image of shocked party goers gaping at your sobbing form, looks of pity and disgust on their faces…a shiver jolted down your spine. The concept that they would finally realize that you were really were a weak human initiated enough shame that for an almost peaceful moment, the heartbreak was drowned out.

Your grip on your jacket tightened. You tensed the muscles in your legs, begging them to still. Digging your teeth into your cheek, blood leaked into your mouth. The metallic flavor grounded you for a moment, the prick providing something, anything, to hold onto. With a sharp jerk, your forced your head high and your spine straight, swallowing thickly.

You, a weak human, would not let the despair overtake you. Not when you had everything- everyone to lose. You could not let it win.

On unstable legs, you walked through the ivory doors and back into the ballroom.

12:11 AM-

You searched your dry eyes through the crowd, hunting for a familiar face. Slinking in between laughing couples, you did your best not to draw attention to your reddened cheeks and quaking hands. The last thing you wanted was be dragged over to Lucifer and Bella by Diavolo, no matter how good his intentions may be.

He has to be somewhere around here! There’s too many valuables for him to be anywhere else.

The snowy head you were looking for wasn’t over by the throne, or the buffet table. Even the diamond encrusted sword that hung on the wall next to one of the ivory pillars had been left alone.

Unless he found somewhere with an unguarded treasure somewhere else in this castle, you thought woefully. I guess in that case, he could be anywhere in this god awful place!

Groaning aloud and dragging a hand down your face, dipped and dove towards the door leading towards the main castle. If you had to tear apart the whole palace, you would. Resigned to your newfound mission, and trying to ignore the aching in your feet, you pressed foreword.

Just before you exited the ball room and entered the main staircase, you realized that speed had perhaps not been the been the answer. Ramming directly into a firm body, your heel twisted out from under you, and you braced yourself to hit the floor. This was exactly what you needed after the night you had.

Two strong hands gripped your shoulders and righted you before you could slam into the marble floor. “Hey!” Maybe my luck isn’t as bad as I thought. “Watch where you’re going, dummy.”

Looking up, two blue eyes peered at you inquisitively. It occurred to you that your best friend had never looked more angellic than in that moment.

“Mammon?” You croaked. Obviously, you knew who you were looking at, but you almost didn’t trust it. You had been prepared to run through every room in this building, having to tear him away from whatever hoard he had found when you were already exhausted from your evening. Yet here he was…unexpectedly, your savior.

“Well I’m certainly not Belphie,” he smirked. “I’m infinitely more handsome.”

You nearly crumpled into his arms right then and there.

“What are you in such a hurry about?” He pulled his hands back and stuffed them into his suit pockets. Part of you wished he had kept them on your shoulders in case your knees gave out again, but you weren’t prepared to ask for that.

Tears threatened to swell your throat again. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and begged them to just wait until you got home.

Your voice cracked when you looked up at him.

“I want to go home.” It came out softer than you had hoped, barely a whisper. You dropped your gaze back down, unable to hold his eye while he searched you in confusion.

“What?” Mammon questioned, still processing what you had just asked. “The parties barely begun! Besides, don’t you wanna go see Lucif-“

“Mammon.” You cut him off sharply. Dropping your head, you shifted unsurely on your feet. You observed his shoulders soften, though you were fiercely trying to avoid his hunting eyes. When you spoke this time, you couldn’t stop your voice from shaking. “Ma… Mammoney… I want- No, I have to go home.”

“Y/N,” he cooed softly, reaching up to brush your hair out of your face, revealing the flushed cheeks you were attempting to hide. Mammon normally put on an abrasive demeanor, but whenever you were upset, he always treated you so gently. Like you might break at any moment. “What’s wrong?”

Unable to handle his probing, you pressed yourself foreword into his shoulder, tucking your arms around his waist. He froze, not expecting the sudden contact, yet relaxed quickly once he processed what was happening. His hand returned to its ministrations, brushing out the small tangles in your hair. Another arm came up behind you snuggled itself between your shoulder blades, pulling you under his chin and close to his chest.

Numbness began to settle into your bones, slowly dulling out all the sensations but his tender hands. You felt his head swivel above you, scanning intently for what could’ve possibly upset his human. Everything in the crowd was instantly suspect- a direct threat, and he was primed to react at the offending stimuli.

Was it some random demon who had the gall to threaten you? Did someone grab you? Did someone try and take you?

When his gripped tightened, you knew he figured out the culprit. Instantly, every muscle became taught like a spring, his breath hitched, the pulse against your ear thudding in anticipation. You had no idea what he was witnessing, and the thoughts instantly ran rampant in your mind. Were they touching, laughing like earlier? Had he just tucked her long ebony locks back behind her ear? Was it that sly smile she gifted him that gave them away, like they were sharing a secret only the two of them had the privilege of knowing?

Before he could make a scene (a bigger one than you ever could’ve made, you were sure) you squeezed him softly. A silent plea. You couldn’t take any more drama tonight. All you wanted was to curl up in a ball, underneath a pile of blankets, and desperately try to forget.

“Yeah, okay,” he said gently, snapping out of his temporary rage. He understood what you were asking, and, unfortunately, he could never say no to you. It wasn’t hard to piece together why you had been so frantic to find him, or why it was of immediate importance that you leave. You had been through enough torture tonight, he was sure. (Even if there was nothing more he wanted to do then tear in there like a bat out of hell and give him a piece of his mind, consequences be damned).

He set his lips lightly against your warm forehead, forcing a mumble through your hair. “Let’s go home.”

——

12:36 AM

The car ride home, neither of you spoke.

Surprisingly, you didn’t feel much like crying anymore. A melancholy had fallen over you like a warm blanket, lulling you into a false sense of security. You were blissfully indifferent to the events of the evening, unable to face the images that you knew were lurking in the back of your mind, screaming to be addressed. You would deal with them later. Suffering had no deadline, after all.

When you finally arrived back at the House of Lamentation, (for some reason the word ‘home’ shot a jolt of pain through your heart) you kicked your expensive shoes haphazardly off at the doorway and proceeded to guide yourself lazily up the stairs. Everything felt dim and out of focus, like a hollow shell of something that was once blindingly beautiful.

Mammon followed behind you carefully, kicking the heels into the corner and shutting the door behind him. When you reached the top, you paused for a moment, leaning your head back as you breathed deeply.

Everything feels like a dream.

No, more like a nightmare.

“Thank you for everything, Mammon,” you spoke, voice stronger than it had been, even if the tiredness still weaved throughout your speech. You looked over your shoulder at the demon, who was standing patiently at the bottom of the stairs, watching you intently.

He looks so pained. You thought sadly. A face that beautiful should never look that hurt.

One hand was shoved deep into his slacks pocket, the other holding his blazer over his shoulder. His shirt had been untucked. Normally bright cerulean eyes, usually happy with humor or greed, were now dark, stained with something unreadable.

“Don’t mention it.” He called back. You managed a soft smile.

With that, you flashed him a peace sign, and dragged yourself barefoot down the hallway, and back to the perceived safe haven of your room.

——-

4:37 AM-

Whoever had entered your room hadn’t bothered knocking.

Not that you were asleep anyway.

Of course, you had an idea of who it might be. The sound of those leather dress shoes marching across your wood floors was certainly a familiar sound. But that didn’t mean you were anymore prepared for it.

The corner of your bed dipped slightly with the weight of an extra body, the sheets pulling to accommodate the newfound weight. A soft jingle of keys echoed across the silent room as he tossed them haphazardly on to your nightstand, quickly followed by what you assumed was the sound of his jacket being laid across the foot of your bed. A few moments of fiddling aimlessly with the buttons on his shirt and cuffs. Another dip in the mattress as his weight shifted above you.

Then, finally, excruciatingly, a gloved hand brushed your shoulder.

You twitched away immediately.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” The words tasted like venom in your mouth. Your eyes burned with the tears you had just spent the last hour crying out, cheeks burning from the salt water stains. Every part of you ached.

“Oh?” Lucifer searched. You knew when he paused that he was waiting for you to elaborate, but your anger had stifled your response.

“So,” he began. You felt the bed rock as he ran his hand through his immaculate locks. “You’re still mad at me, huh?” His voice was slow, and smooth. Like poisoned honey. “I would have thought you’d be over something as trivial as this by now.”

He’s drunk. Rage burned through you at the realization.

In private, Lucifer tried to be very understanding of your emotions. He knew that you felt things very strongly, and would often listen to you inquisitively, trying to decipher those feelings he had mostly buried through the millennia . Despite his normally harsh personality, he had always stayed calm and collected during those arguements. I never want to hurt you, he had claimed. I just want to understand.

When he was drunk, however, all bets were off. There was more than one time you had been at each other’s throat after a bottle of Demonous, two unwavering forces unwilling to surrender. He became hardheaded and tactless, ignorant to your thoughts and beliefs in favor of his own. This was now what you were up against. Just perfect.

You pushed yourself up, arms shaking as you struggled to hold up your body weight after all of the strain of the evening. Your hair stuck to your face in the tear tracks, and you glanced down at the black mascara marks staining your once-white pillowcase. You had yet to shed your party dress- the one you had been so excited to wear for him, unable to care about anything except getting into the comfort of your own bed. The fabric pulled at your shoulders and rhinestones scratched at your skin, stuck in between the tension of your hips and your upper body.

“Yes, Lucifer.” You growled. All the anger of the night was finally surging to the surface. “I am still mad at you.”

“Because I didn’t come find you?” He proposed, clearly unamused by the suggestion. “Really, honey. I had things that needed to be taken care of.”

You threw your head back and laughed. When you tilted your head to look at him, you saw a small glimpse of concern flash over his features. He was clearly not expecting that kind of reaction, and was now concerned about where this was going.

“Oh, trust me, I know, honey.” You cooed. You rolled your legs underneath you, pushing yourself onto your calves so that way you could look at him fully. Lucifers eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I know you had things to take care of. Specifically, a tall, black haired beauty named Bella.” The name fell out of your mouth like a sin. It tasted like sour milk as it flowed out of you, and you had a sudden urge to retch.

“I don’t know what you’re implying.” He shot back, fiddling with his cuff again. Although he looked annoyed, you knew him well enough to see the look of fear cross his face for only a split second. It was enough to send you over the edge. “She was simply one of my chargees I was tasked with entertaining tonight. I believe I informed you beforehand I would be doing so.”

Ever the good liar. The thought only added fuel to your flames.

“Do you let all ‘chargees’ kiss you, or is it just the special ones?”

The hand on his cuff stilled. The muscles in his back tensed with anticipation at your next move. He had not been prepared for you to have this much information- you could tell by the bead of nervous sweat that formed against his forehead.

When Lucifer’s eyes met yours, fear painted in his ruby red irises. You could see the pain on his face, but you weren’t ready for that right now. It wasn’t his turn to be hurt. It wasn’t his turn to get sympathy. You weren’t willing to give him a single goddamn thing right now.

“You see, sweetie,” the words flowed like sugar from your lips, but you were sure he could taste the danger behind it. “I’m mad at you because you didn’t find me at midnight, like you promised. I’m mad at you because I sat outside like an idiot for half an hour waiting for a man who would never come.”

Once you began, there was no stopping you- the fury that you had held onto all night was now pouring off of you with force. “I’m mad at you because you spent the night with that witch instead of with your girlfriend, who has done nothing but love you with her whole heart for the past two years.”

“I’m mad because when she kissed you, you let her, despite knowing I was stuck somewhere, waiting for my knight in shining armor to finally appear.” You couldn’t help the chuckle that rattled through you, covering your face with your hands in disbelief. When they fell back to your lap, a pained smile flashed across your cheeks for a moment. “And I’m mad, because after all of that, after all the hell you put me through, you had the goddamn balls to lie about it.”

Lucifer opened his mouth, then shut it. Pushing his hair back once more, he broke your stare, turning instead to gaze intently at the wall.

“I didn’t want her to kiss me.” He shrugged. You were shocked by how little accountability he was willing to take for what had happened, but then again, you were well aware his arrogance wouldn’t allow such an admittance of fault. “I’m sure if you saw the kiss, you saw me push her away afterward.”

You couldn’t believe this.

The shock, the awe, the pain, the terror- they all hit you at once, overflowing into every fiber of your being. Unable to grasp ahold of the grief anymore, you doubled over, wailing softly into your hands, doing your best to muffle the sound. Sobs racked your body, and you could feel yourself choking on the tears.

How ignorant could he be?

Sitting up again, you took him in, Pride in all its glory. Back straight, neck held high- despite your pain, no evidence of shame showed in his body language. Did he not realize how much you had sacrificed for him? For everyone?

“You’re a lost fucking cause!” You shouted, completely appalled. “I couldn’t give two shits about the kiss, Lucifer. It was never about the damn kiss!” You waved your hands emphatically at him, as if begging him to understand. “It was about the empty beds, the lonely nights, the cold sheets I’m stuck with every morning. It’s about the fact that you chased your brothers away from me because you wanted my attention all for yourself, even though you’re never there.”

You leaned in toward him, but his eyes drifted away, unwilling to see you. Drowning in his indifference yet again, you felt another surge of tears, but you pushed foreword anyways.

“I begged you for one thing, just a moment of your time. And you couldn’t even give me that.” Your voice fell into a hushed whisper, your body shaking softly. “I never asked much of you, Lucifer. I just wanted to get to see my boyfriend for two fleeting minutes.”

Your head dipped again, hot tears flowing freely into your lap. “Are you even going to try to fix this?”

His shoulders rolled as he sighed. Looking up at the ceiling, he pondered for a minute on how to respond. It occurred to you, unwittingly, how beautifully raw he looked; his Adonis-like face catching in the evening light from your lamps. Maybe this is why Narcissis drowned himself. Some beauty is worth dying for.

“I don’t know if I can give you what you need.”

The words tore a slit through your heart, and you could feel the disbelief crossing your features. What you need? What you needed was five minutes with you boyfriend, some kindness and respect, and just to be appreciated for everything you gave up to live this life from him. You weren’t asking him to push a boulder up a hill everyday for you- you were just asking to be loved, and apparently it was too much.

“That’s rich.” He looked at you again, this time expecting the anger in your words.

“I’ve spent two years in this goddamn place. I left behind my home, my friends, my family, my dreams-my life to stay here with you. To try and make something work.” Voice raw with tears, you were sure everyone in the house was now made aware of the situation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Incredulousness pumped freely through your veins. “I put up with your crazy family, I accepted you, I tried to live loving people that embody what are considered the worst traits in humanity. I gave into the fact that I might stay here forever, that I would die in this dark place, that I would never get to see the sun, or the moon, or the real stars again!”

“I didn’t force you to come back,” he quipped. You could feel your lip trembling.

“I came back because I fucking loved you, you absolute dick.” You seethed, getting up into his face. Then, you saw something snap. Those garnet eyes that always reminded you of roses suddenly brought back memories of blood. Jaw tightening, his eyes flared in rage. Lucifer was not one to handle insults lightly. One clawed hand came up to your throat, gripping it firmly.

“You have a lot of nerve speaking to me that way.“ A sneer flashed across his face, lip peeling back. The crimson nails dug into the soft skin, causing you to wince. “I’m not easily tamed once you’ve upset me. My little dove could get herself killed- if she doesn’t choose her words very carefully.”

Your gaze hardened. You couldn’t scare that easily- not after everything you’ve been through in this Hellhole.

“Lucifer, my dear,” flashing your pearly whites at him. His brows cinched. “You know you’re the only one that gets to kill me.”

Before he could respond, a rap at the door caused you both to startle. Gaze now peered on the door, you watched as it began to shake with the force of whoever was behind it.

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on?” A deep voice called through the cracks. Beel.

Your eyes softened slightly. He had no idea what was happening, and you could clearly hear the concern edging in his voice. My protector.

“Beel, honey, I’m okay,” you called, choking slightly. The shock of the knock has caused Lucifer’s grip to tighten more than he had originally been intending. Once he realized he was slowly strangling you, he released it like you had burned him. Horror etched his features, but you were much more worried about getting air back into your lungs and consoling the frantic demon at the door.

“We heard you crying,” he called back, assault halting. Your doorknob jingled as he tried to twist it open, to no avail. “Our pact marks lit up a minute ago.” Beel’s voice dropped softer, almost timid. “It felt like you were hurt.”

Ignoring his baiting about the source of your pain (you figured once Lucifer’s nails had dug into your flesh, you had unintentionally sent out some sort of Pact SOS), you coughed into your elbow and tried to make sense of his pleas.

“We?” You questioned. So it wasn’t just Beel who had come to your aid.

“Yeah.” He mumbled, releasing your doorknob. I hope it’s not dented, you thought breifly. Beelzebub had a tendency to damage household objects when he wasn’t careful. “Levi and Belphie are here too.”

The ginger paused for a moment, and you could almost hear the gears turning. “Mammon’s down by the stairway… I’m honestly surprised he wasn’t the first one here.” Mammon’s still listening to my request not to get involved, you realized. I’m sure it’s taking everything in his power not to come up and bust my door down right now. He’s never been very good about calming himself when I’m hurt.

“And Satan and Asmo are still at the castle, I think.” He finished. Your door thunked as he pressed both his massive hands into them, holding himself up against the wood. “Will you please let us in?”

Swollowing lightly, you did your best to ignore the anxious avatar above you, and tried your best to process whatever the fuck was going on.

“I can’t.” You answered simply, after a moment. Hearing bustling behind the door, you were positive there was some sort commotion going on. There was no way there were just gonna let that fly. Before they could actually break down your door, you shut your eyes, thinking hard about what instructions Solomon had tried to teach you all those months ago.

“If you want to invoke your pact, you have to speak with determination, and force.” Solomon had explained sagely. “You have to know exactly what you want, and who you need to do it. Speak loud what your soul desires. Then, if you’re lucky, your boys will follow.”

“Beelzebub, Belphegor, Leviathan,” the noise outside the door immediately halted. You could feel the air shake as you tried to drag the magic out of it, the newfound energy beginning to smell like ozone. Whether it was from the invocation or just from you using their full names you weren’t sure, but you tried to onward. Please let this work, you begged silently. “Go back to your rooms. Shut your doors. Ignore any more signals from our pact.” Your voice cracked at the end, and you cursed yourself. Any sign of weakness was only going to make your insubordination harder for them. “Try and get some rest.” You added softly.

A soft shuffling echoed down the hallway as they migrated, against their will, back to their rooms. You were sure you would face hell tomorrow about using your pact directly against their wishes, but you had no choice.

This was something you and Lucifer had to deal with on your own.

Craning your head back to your old lover, his expression was unreadable. The flesh around your throat pulsed with blood, probably bruised from his vice grip earlier.

Closing your eyes harshly, a deep huff filled your unstable lungs. Hurting the boys was never easy.

Another one of Solomons teaching came back to you. Although you weren’t particularly adept at using magic, you had become slightly more capable of reading the energy since your stay in the Devildom. What felt like a thick mist had settled over the room, heavy like fog, and was slowly attempting to make its way into your pores.

You recognized it immediately.

“I can feel your Pride pouring off you, you know,” your statement absolute. Lucifer cocked his eyebrow, but said nothing. “Even after all the destruction you’ve caused, your assurance in yourself is still so disgustingly thick.”

Before he could interrupt, which he had already begun to try to, you pressed on. You were done letting yourself get walked on by the eldest brother. “I was kidnapped from my home, torn from everything I loved, and still learned to love anew. I changed. I adapted. I grew.”

You forced your eyes open, with strain. You didn’t want to look at him, but he had to see in your eyes what he was doing to you. “Why couldn’t you grow with me?”

Lucifer’s voice dropped deeper, obviously beginning to lose his patience again. When the phrase slipped of his tounge, it burned.

“If you’re not happy with me, why are you still here?”

Leave. You heard his meaning very clearly hiding underneath his words. That’s it. You realized, as the final piece of you that was praying for any sort of resolution gave up. I can’t do this anymore.

“Honestly, I should’ve known,” you told him, pushing yourself onto your feet and walking around the bed, throwing open the closet door and beginning to dig inside it. It took a minute, but eventually you found your dufflebag- the same one you had brought back from the human world the last time you returned. I never thought I’d use this again. Turning your back to him as you began to shove clothes inside of it, you felt your muscles slowly begin to unwind.

This was okay, you supposed. Maybe it’s time to go home.

“How can you fix this, when you can’t even fix yourself?” You whispered. He looked unamused, but you figured if you were going to leave, might as well speak your truth. And in that moment, your truth never felt so definite. “All those millennia thinking you’re the greatest, and you still are so afraid of change, even if it means losing the people who care about you most.”

As you grabbed your last shirt from the drawer, you hefted the bag onto the bed, dropping it heavily onto the comforter next to you. Lucifer’s stoney gaze watched you suspiciously, but you truly couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. You had made up your mind. “When I first came here, I promised myself I wouldn’t fall for you.”

Although your wounds were still fresh, it was almost as if this new found clarity gave you just the slightest bit of comfort. You could breathe easier, move faster, think clearer. “I knew it would tear me apart one day, but I couldn’t help it. I had almost believed, for a fleeting moment, that what we had was real.”

Your voice had softened now. “I should’ve known you were too selfish to love anyone but yourself. That was my mistake.”

Hands shaking, you grabbed the group photo off your nightstand. All of you looked so happy there, so carefree… you almost looked like a family. Before you could think too much of it - and potentially even talk yourself out of leaving - you set it gently into your bag, and zipped it up tight.

With a deep, uneven breath, you looked at him for the last time.

He was the kind of beautiful that could only be a unholy, a disaster, a wildfire. And you loved him for it, even thought it hurt.

You leaned down, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m sorry I gave into loving you, Lucifer.”

With that, you turned away, pointing to the door in the unmistakable gesture of It’s your time to leave. Aside from a slight pause that made your heart jump in fleeting hope that maybe he might give in, beg you to stay, tell you he loved you… he left without a fight.

Once the door closed, your heart crumbled, and you sat back down on the bed, mourning the loss of everything and everyone you had learned to love in the past two years.

It was finally The End.

What a shit finale, you thought.

——

5:02 AM-

When Lucifer entered the Hallway, he immediately recognized he wasn’t alone. Having honestly expected half the house to be outside their door at the sound of their human screaming, he was greeted only by a set of judgemental ice blue eyes.

Mammon waited at the top of the stairs, leaning back against the wall, toned arms crossed. He looked much more disheveled than usual, like he had been running his hands through his hair compulsively. His white dress shirt was untucked and buttoned haphazardly. The edges of his eyes were tinged red, though he didn’t look like he had been crying recently. It was probably from the sheer force of having to hold himself back from breaking down a wall and trying to murder me, Lucifer thought loosely.

Deciding not to engage, Lucifer attempted to make his way past his brother and down the hallway, back to his room, where he could wait this out without being disturbed.

“What did you do?” Mammon muttered, huskily. Knowing better than to stop, the eldest demon halted anyway. He knew his brother was hurting, after all.

“It’s a personal issue, Mammon.” He sighed. Lucifer ran a red-tipped hand down his face, trying to gain some sort of sense back in the world. He was tired, grieving (although he wouldn’t admit it), and still a little bit drunk. He needed to go to sleep this night off. “It’s none of your concern.”

Ducking his head back against the wall, Mammon kept his eyes trained on your door. When he finally spoke, Lucifer could hear the restrained tears lacing the edges of his words.

“You’re not the only one they’re special to, you know.” It came out in a breathy croak.

Lucifer shut his eyes, letting his head drop for a moment and a low sigh to leave his body. Then, he looked up, eyes sharp down the corridor, and started his treck back to his room.

“I know.”

———

6:35 AM-

When he awoke to cold sheets, Lucifer shivered for a moment. It took him several minutes of of pushing the drowsiness out of his mind, fruitlessly aiming to pick out the memories of the previous nights events to understand why you were not there tucked next to him.

Where has that damn human snuck off to this time?

Finally, he managed to retrieve a few memories from his slumber. The kiss of ruby red lips that weren’t yours at midnight. The sight of your mascara stained cheeks. The whisper of your apology.

He wished he hadn’t bothered to wake up.

The reality was beginning to set in.

You were gone… and it was his fault.

Fuck.

——————-

Thank you for reading the second half of “Wildflower!” Sorry it was a little late :) I’m not the most proud of this (my first time writing an arguement, I’m a fluffy gal) but I hope it was readable nonetheless 💕 A 3rd part will be coming soon, dealing with the aftermath. Hopefully Lucifer comes to his senses soon.

Love you guys!! -Bambi

Taglist: @despairgamer

#obey me #obey me imagine #lucifer imagine #lucifer imagines #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #obey me mc #obey me fic #obey me lucifer #om! lucifer #shall we date lucifer #swd lucifer #wildflower #heart ache mixtape

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