#also still post nap/sleep hazy

[dontflirt]

the kpop space is so tiring

[cleo-fox]

Movie Night

Summary: You’re not really sure why Loki shows up for your movie nights. He never seems to like the movies, even when he picks them, and every movie you watch together is accompanied by a litany of dry complaints and general sarcasm from him. This is partly why it always ends up being just the two of you—the others don’t have the patience to put up with it. You generally think it’s funny, so you’ve never rescinded his invitation.

That and…you kind of have a thing for him.

Pairing: Loki/Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, couch sex, quiet sex, praise kink, friends to lovers, making out, vaginal fingering, semi-public sex, praise kink.

A/N: I’m working on cross posting all my stuff from AO3. I wrote this a little while ago in an effort to address some writer’s block (it didn’t work, but I had fun writing it). This is also on AO3.

You’re not really sure why Loki shows up for your movie nights. He never seems to like the movies, even when he picks them, and every movie you watch together is accompanied by a litany of dry complaints and general sarcasm from him. This is partly why it always ends up being just the two of you—the others don’t have the patience to put up with it. You generally think it’s funny, so you’ve never rescinded his invitation.

That and you’ve got a little bit of a thing for him. You think he might have some interest in you, but you’re not certain enough to make the first move.

You look forward to your movie nights, but when this particular Friday night rolls around, you’re absolutely dragging by the time the clock strikes eight, thanks to a bad night of sleep the previous evening. Before the movie even starts, you’re wrapping yourself in the soft throw from your room and curling up, pillowing your head on the arm of the couch.

“I didn’t realize I would have such riveting company this evening,” says Loki dryly.

You roll your eyes and stretch obnoxiously, purposely shoving your feet into his lap. “I was up ‘til three this morning, give me a break.”

“Surely you need your full wits about you to appreciate the nuance of this fine cinema.”

He’s being sarcastic; you decide to ignore it because that will annoy him the most. You stifle a yawn and give him your most beatific smile before hunkering back down under your blanket. Loki grumbles something indeterminate, but he doesn’t shove your feet off his lap—in fact, he drapes his arm over your ankles like it’s not a big deal at all.

This simple gesture warms you from the inside out and sends a flurry of butterflies fluttering through your stomach. You are pretty sure nothing is going to come of it—stuff like this has been going on for months and nothing has happened—but it’s still nice. You have no idea what it means, but it’s nice.

You’re not entirely surprised that you fall asleep during the movie—you are tired and while you don’t necessarily want to admit that any of Loki’s cinematic complaints have merit, the movie really wasn’t very good. Between that and your cozy blanket, it’s a recipe for an unintentional nap.

It’s dark when you wake up. You don’t really remember falling asleep, though you think it must have been about halfway through the film, based on the last hazy bit of dialogue you can recall.

You certainly don’t remember Loki sliding over on the couch to join you. But here he is, spooned up against your back, arms snaking around your waist, and the blanket tucked neatly over the two of you.

It’s dark and quiet and his breath is warm and even against the back of your neck. You’re reasonably certain that he’s asleep, though you wouldn’t necessarily bet money on it.

You consider your options. You probably should get up before someone wanders in and finds you like this, but…you don’t want to. You are wildly attracted to Loki—there’s no denying that—and the feeling of his strong arms wrapped snugly around your waist and the warmth of his broad chest pressing against your back is far too intoxicating to give up, even though you’re currently tangled up with him in a common area.

Still…you’re not entirely sure what to do about this. At some point, you’ll both need to go to your respective beds. Pretending to be asleep when he wakes is almost certainly not an option—he’ll somehow know that you’re faking and he’ll absolutely call you out on it, which will make the whole thing worse. Going back to sleep is tempting, but it presents its own set of risks.

But then…why did he curl up with you like this? Surely he wouldn’t have done this if he didn’t find you appealing in some way. Maybe you don’t actually need an exit strategy? Maybe you can just enjoy it. You’re a bit too comfortable, sleepy, and distracted to think properly, anyway. You allow yourself to relax further into his embrace.

And then you feel his cock twitch against your ass.

It’s almost impressive how quickly your body shifts from content and pleasantly sleepy to wide awake and intensely aroused. Somewhere in the back of your mind, there’s a calm and rational voice saying you’re being ridiculous, but this is easily drowned out by the growing ache between your thighs.

You press your thighs together and try to take slow and even breaths, but it doesn’t really help. If you weren’t sure what to do before, now you’re at a complete loss. The safe assumption would be to chalk it up to biology and timing and move on, but it’s really difficult to do that when you’ve been locked in this flirty back and forth with him for months and you want him as much as you do.

You feel him twitch again and you bite your lip as the ache between your thighs pulses in a kind of answer, the slickness growing. Your breath is quiet, but shallow, your heart thrumming in your throat.

You’re trying to keep perfectly still, but between your aching core and the slight kink in your hip from the way you’re positioned on the couch, doing so is easier said than done. You hold out for as long as you can before you give in and shift your hips slightly, trying to be as subtle as possible.

He stirs in his sleep and pulls you closer, his cock pressing hard against your ass. You’re not sure if he’s awake—his breath is still coming slow and even against the back of your neck—but you can’t quite suppress the way your own breath stutters in your throat when you feel him against you. 

God, you want him.

He flexes his fingers where they are splayed against your stomach. You feel the tip of his nose brush against the curve of your neck.

“Will you admit now that you want me?” he says. His voice is low and intimate and calls to mind dark silk and smoke.

“I didn’t know that you wanted me to,” you say, which is true—whatever’s been brewing between you has been subtle, more sidelong glances than lustful stares; you’ve never spoken about it.

“Don’t play coy with me, pet,” he says, his voice a soft growl against your neck. “I have enjoyed the chase, but I’ve no more patience for games.”

The slickness between your thighs increases at the slight roughness in his voice. His lips graze the shell of your ear and you let out a sharp breath.

“Admit it.” He catches your earlobe between his teeth and gently sucks it into his mouth.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your back arching slightly against him.

“In due time,” he says, his hips pressing back against you. “Answer me first.”

You roll over so that you’re facing him. The sharp, angular planes of his face are flattered by the faint, moody blue light from the sleeping city outside. He stares openly, brazenly, at your lips, his hand resting on your waist.

“What happens if I do?” you ask.

He gives you a wolfish smile and his hand strokes down your waist to your thigh. He pulls your leg up and over his hip, drawing you toward him so that his cock presses against your clothed heat. You have to bite your lip to hold back a moan, but you’re pretty sure he catches the slight hitch in your breath.

“You’re a clever girl,” he says, “I’m sure you can work it out.”

When you’ve thought about this moment before—and you’ve admittedly thought about it a lot—you’ve always imagined yourself smirking right back at him, meeting his clever quips with barbs of your own until he’s forced to admit how much he wants you. But you’re not quite prepared for the way that your brain abruptly short circuits at the feeling of his thick, hard cock pressing against your clit through the thin fabric of your leggings or how his gaze is a thousand times hungrier in the dark than it was in your imagination. It feels thrilling and sexy being here with him like this, tangled up in the dead of night in the middle of the common area. Clever quips and keeping him hanging seem like an impossibility several times over.

He seems to sense that your resolve is faltering because his hand slides to your lower back and he rocks his hips against you ever so slightly, giving you just a taste of that beautiful friction.

“Admit it.” It’s not a question this time and a pleasant shiver runs up your spine.

You lick your lips. “I—I want you.”

His smile is like sin. “Good girl.”

You’re practically trembling with want when he kisses you, so slow and sensual that it makes you whimper when his tongue strokes past your lips and into your mouth.

He moves in a languid, almost lazy way that makes you dizzy with need. He’s completely unhurried, but there’s a tension in his body that tells you he’s barely holding back, that he wants you a lot more than what he’s saying.

You almost don’t notice his hand sliding from your back to your hip and then ghosting along your stomach until he slips it under the band of your leggings.

“How much do you want me?” he asks as his fingers trail lightly along the fabric of your underwear.

“You can’t tell?” you ask, trying and mostly failing to keep your voice level.

“I like to be certain,” he says.

“You just like hearing me say it,” you say.

His eyes glitter as his hand slips under the elastic of your underwear and slowly creeps downward. “And why shouldn’t I like hearing you tell me how much you want me?”

“I—” His hand is so close to where you need him. He runs one finger right along the edge of your slit and your breath catches. “I—I don’t…”

He raises an eyebrow expectantly. “You don't…?”

“I…” Your mind is blissfully blank and every fiber of your being is focused on his hand and your aching clit. “I—I don’t…remember the question.”

You think you must have surprised him a little because he laughs in a way that makes his eyes light up, even in the moody blue half dark of the room. But after a brief moment he refocuses and his fingers slowly part your dripping folds and finally stroke your throbbing clit.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe, a moan catching in your throat.

“As I thought,” he tuts. “You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?” You nod and he makes a scolding sound. “Say it. Tell me what you need.”

You can feel your cheeks heat, which is ridiculous given that he’s got his hand down your pants. You lick your lips. “I need to come.”

“And what do you want me to do about that?” His fingers circle your clit lightly and retreat.

You shiver, your hips rolling forward, searching out his fingers. “Touch me.”

“How?”

You bite back a whimper as his fingers trace a circuit around your clit, avoiding your obvious need. “Please, Loki.”

“I need you to be more specific, darling,” he purrs. Your hips roll forward and he retreats again.

“You know what I want,” you say.

His smile is sharp. “Have we not established that I like hearing you say such things?” His fingers bypass your clit again. “Tell me how you want me to touch you. Tell me what you want.”

Your pride—or what remains of it—has slowly eroded to nothing. You lick your lips. You need him.

“I—I need you to touch me,” you say again. “I want you to rub my clit until I come on your fingers.”

His smile is vulpine but his fingers finally roll over your clit, lightly circling it. You breathe out, your hips rocking with his hand.

“Absolutely drenched,” he murmurs. “You’re a proper mess, my love.”

“It’s because you’re such a fucking tease,” you say, your hands sliding up to grip his shoulders.

His eyebrows rise. “I’m a tease? Am I not giving you everything that you asked for?”

“After amping me up,” you retort.

“And I’m taking care of that now, aren’t I? I’m touching you just like you begged me to.” He changes the movement of his hand slightly, fingers rolling across the most sensitive part of your clit. You suck in a deep breath and his eyes darken as he readjusts his hand to hit that spot again. “And you obviously like it. I daresay you need it.”

Your head tips back as your hips rock with his hand. You can feel your orgasm beginning to build and for the first time, it occurs to you that you are doing this in the middle of a common area. Reluctant as you are to stop, you can’t help but think it might be best to relocate.

“Should—fuck, yes, just like that—should we go back to your room? Or mine?” you manage to gasp.

“I don’t see why that’s necessary.”

“S-someone might hear,” you gasp as his fingers massage your slick and swollen clit.

The white of his teeth flashes in the dark as he continues to touch you. “Then I suggest you keep quiet,” he says, his voice rough.

You manage to raise an eyebrow. “You don’t want to hear me?”

Another sharp smile. “Later.” His eyes darken. “You’ve kept me from my prize long enough. I rather think you’ve earned this little game.”

“I thought you had no more patience for games,” you manage to say.

He smiles and it occurs to you that he likes it when you talk back, perhaps just as much as you enjoy him putting you in your place. “Oh, I think I rather like this game,” he says, his fingers suddenly slowing, but still exerting a firm pressure on your clit. “How hard will you come for me? How quiet can you be?” His eyes darken again. “Or perhaps you don’t want to be quiet. Perhaps you want to be heard. Perhaps you want the others to know exactly what I’m doing to you.”

You shudder despite yourself.

“Wicked girl,” he murmurs appreciatively. “Letting me touch you out here in the open like this. Anyone could walk in here and see.”

“You’d really let that happen?” you ask. “I didn’t take you for the type who likes to share.”

The hunger in his eyes increases tenfold and you know this was the right thing to say. “Oh, I don’t share, darling. Especially not you.” He increases the speed of his fingers ever so slightly and your breath catches, the tension in your hips building. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this? How many times I’ve thought about ravishing you until you forget every name but mine? How many times I’ve imagined you wet and begging for my cock?” His voice drops to a low rasp. “I have gone to bed hard and aching for you more nights than I can count.”

His words and his fingers are a wonderful and wicked combination. You reach for him, tangling your fingers in his ink dark hair and pulling him in to kiss you. He does, but with such a lazy restraint that you can’t help but whimper a little, trying to press yourself closer as your hips rock with his hand. You’re reaching the place in the lead up to your orgasm where you’re so desperate to come that you feel like you’d do almost anything. It’s a heady place, with an edge of danger and you think that Loki must have an inkling of it based on the way his eyes darken.

“Did you think of me like this? Did you touch yourself, imagining the feeling of my hands on your body?”

“I—”

He must catch the slight hesitation in your eyes because that firm authority returns to his voice. “Tell me.”

Panting, you nod and earn another one of those dark and hungry smiles.

“How many times did you make yourself come while thinking of me?”

You don’t know the answer to that. Partly because it was like…several times a week. For the last six months. At least.

“A lot,” you finally manage.

His smile is devilish as he kisses you. “You’re going to come at least twice as hard for me tonight.”

The muscles of your cunt clench tightly around nothing. You need him so badly. Have you ever needed anyone like this? You’re fairly sure you haven’t. You’re getting close, your hips rolling with the stroke of his hand.

“Tell me how much you need it,” he purrs. “Tell me how you need to fall apart on my fingers.”

“Loki—”

“Tell me.”

“Please—I’m so close—”

“Tell me and I’ll let you come. Be a good girl for me, darling, and I’ll give you everything you need.”

You gasp. “Fuck, Loki, I—fuck, I need to come—I need you—”

You’re not sure how he manages it—perhaps there’s some magic involved, perhaps it’s luck or skill—but you start to come the moment the words leave your lips. The edges of your vision blur slightly as your orgasm overtakes you, roaring up from your hips and bursting like fireworks in the night sky. You gasp, trying to hold in a moan, but a slight whimper escapes you before Loki’s mouth covers your own, claiming you in a hungry kiss. His hand is still moving, fingers still circling your clit.

“Oh, yes,” he breathes against your lips. “Oh that’s lovely.”

It seems to last a long time, drawing out in long waves that make your toes curl. He kisses you throughout, until you very nearly lose track of where you end and he begins. All the while, his fingers keep rubbing your clit, extending your pleasure and making you shudder.

You can feel his cock still pressing against your hip and you want nothing more than to take him in your hands and make him feel just as good as he made you feel.

“I want to touch you,” you say and you’re treated to another one of those hungry smiles before he starts undoing the fastenings of his trousers. His cock finally springs free and you suck in a deep breath. He’s big—easily the biggest you’ve ever had—and you can’t help the ache that courses through you.

It’s immensely rewarding hearing his breath hitch when you take him in your hand. You’re surprised by how warm he is—you’d expect a Frost Giant to run a little cooler, but he’s hot and throbbing. You stroke him slowly from base to tip, squeezing his shaft ever so slightly.

His head tips back and he lets out a very quiet groan before reaching to push your hand away. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I’m sorry—” you start to say.

“I need you now,” he says, tugging your leggings and underwear down and off, his voice conveying both authority and desperation in a way that makes you ache.

He pulls you to him, drawing your leg up over his hip to spread you open. He rubs the tip of his cock along your slit, coating himself in your slickness and taking every opportunity to tease your clit.

He finally settles himself at your entrance and slowly begins easing into you.

He kisses you and it’s a good thing he does because you’re so slick and wound up that the dull, blunt stretch of his cock sliding inside of you unexpectedly tips you right back over the edge, pulling a soft moan from your lips as you come on his cock. You almost have a mind to be embarrassed—you’ve hardly begun and you’re already coming undone—but the feral glint in Loki’s eyes is enough to make you forget all about it.

“Like I said: you’re absolutely desperate for it, ” he says, pressing even deeper inside of you. “And you’re taking me so well.” He withdraws slightly and pushes forward again and you bury your face in his neck to hide your moan.

His fingers slide between your legs to find your clit. “I want to feel you come again,” he says, gently beginning to stroke you as he thrusts again. “You feel exquisite.”

It doesn’t take very long for him to build you back up—the steady thrust of his cock stroking your slick walls just right and his fingers expertly circling your clit is more than enough to take you there. It’s all so good and the way he’s kissing you is making you dizzy in the best way.

“I can feel you, darling,” he purrs in your ear. “Let go. Come on my cock like a good girl.”

With a few more thrusts, you do. You bury your face in his shoulder, trying to muffle your moans as much as possible.

“That’s it, yes,” he growls as he fucks you through the aftershocks. His brow is furrowed and his focus is intent and you can tell he’s getting close.

“Loki,” you breathe.

Even though he’s in the process of losing his composure, he still manages a wicked grin. “One more for me, love,” he rasps.

You’re not sure if you can manage another, to be quite frank. “Loki, I—”

“One more,” he says again, his eyes flashing. “One more and I’ll fill your tight, perfect cunt with my seed. One more and I’ll make you mine.”

His words send something electric and primal racing up your spine and quite suddenly, you find yourself hurtling toward the release you didn’t think you had in you. A choked whimper catches in your throat and you are trembling in his arms and with one last shudder, you come hard.

“Nearly there.” His words are punctuated by gasps, his hips never faltering in their rhythm.

His hips snap hard against you and he throws his head back, his face rapt in ecstasy, lost to a pure pleasure as he comes. He’s staggeringly beautiful in this moment and you’re filled with a feral kind of possessiveness—he is yours and you don’t want to share this moment or this feeling or this man with anyone else. It’s a startling thought—one you know that you know you’ll need to interrogate at some point—but you decide that it can wait until later. He starts kissing you and it nearly takes your breath away—it’s soft and tender and still so decadent it feels like it should be forbidden.

You want to stay in this moment with him, your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock still pressed inside of you, but you know it can’t last. Something in your chest aches as he pulls away from you, vanishes the mess and tucks himself back into his trousers. He slowly stands up and you suddenly feel so much colder than you were before.

But before you can start to wallow in that misery, he’s bending down and scooping you up into his arms, throw blanket and all.

Before you can even think to ask where he’s taking you, you’re in his rooms and he’s placing you gently on the bed.

“Oh, so now you want privacy,” you say as you watch him quickly strip off his clothes, your gaze lingering on every emerging detail like you’re a woman starved.

He smirks and joins you in bed, covering your body with his and kissing you deeply as he pulls off the rest of your clothes. The feeling of his bare skin on yours is so dizzying that it takes you a moment to realize that he’s hard again.

“Already?” you say with a disbelieving laugh.

His smile is sin dripped in syrup. “I am a god, pretty girl.”

The ache between your legs returns and he kisses you like he knows it.

“And this time,” he says, his eyes glittering with want, “I want to hear you scream for me.”

You are more than happy to oblige.

[empressgeekt]

Trolls - Amnesia-Rock-Prince!Branch in an Arranged marriage AU Idea - Part 3 Aftermath

Okay so if anyone has not read the other posts on this AU, I highly suggest you do. Believe me this will be much more fun with context. The previous posts are by the same title, minus the "Part 3". I will also be tagging all of them with the title after posting this.

Char = Branch

Lets get into it...

When we last left of the Family Harmony was complete and the V-Twins were being carted off to jail. Char and Poppy kissed and wondered if they could finally get married now.

Then Floyd collapsed. The troll literally had the life drained out of him for two months, he is not walking away from that with just a new hair style. This sends the happy moment into one of panic. Floyd does not wake up when prompted, and not even when the other moved him on to Rhonda. It's clear he needs a doctor, but none on Mount Rageonus know troll physiology, so they need to leave as soon as possible.

But where will they go? Anywhere is still few days drive, and there is barely any supplies on Rhonda. No food. There was water but not enough for everyone. And most importantly no medicine beyond a very old, very basic first-aid kit John had for gotten about. Barb and Bruce stay behind to make sure Floyd doesn't die (and make sure Tiny takes a nap). Floyd has a seizure and Barb steps in taking control of the situation with Bruce freezes. Bruce asks her how she knew to tend to someone who's sick, and Barb explains that Char used to have them as a kid and she was usually the one who nursed Char through his head aches, and when he got sick from the volcanic fumes. This leads to bonding between the two of them, and Bruce starts to think of Barb as his little sister too.

When the others get back, John and Clay kind of freak out about the seizure when told. Trips home can wait they need a doctor. Rock territory is closeted and the doctor that treated Char originally is still around and on call. Still few days drive, but it's the best guess they got.

When Floyd finally wakes up he's a mess. Exhausted, nauseous, with a killer head ache. It's also in the middle of the night, and everyone is still asleep. Well, everyone except Poppy and Char. They were still up due to some shared insomia, and discussing their re-do wedding plans. Floyd's perception of things are still hazy, so he's calling Char by Branch and not noticing the latter's discomfort over the name. Still Char helps alleviates Floyd migraine so he can go back to sleep. Floyd asks how Char would know that it would work, Char says it works for me. Floyd would continue to ponder that, until he passes back out.

When they get back into Rock Kingdom territory, Floyd is taken into the hospital rather quickly, and is put on supportive devices, to combat server malnutrition, dehydration, and oxygen just incase. Brain scans, reveal scaring on his brain from several concussions that went untreated. The source of his seizures, and possibly other symptoms that have yet to show themselves. Once he's conscious he reports of, numbness, pain and tingling in his legs and is looking at possible nerve damage.

During this time, with the help of Barb, Bruce manages to get a letter out to his family explaining what was going on and it would be little longer until he was home. Char and Barb re-unite with their Dad and Riff. And the rest are just trying to make sense of everything.

Floyd has, at least one of his brothers with him at all times. When he's awake they talk and bond, and when he's asleep they comfort his nightmares. He notices that Char isn't there most of the time (he's out making princely announcements explaining the situation and dealing with some back-lash about "returning to his own kind" from some of the less accepting citizens), and is worried that his Brother is mad at him for not coming back. He practically breaks down upon hearing about Char amnesia, and asks to see him.

Char comes, but is very awkward when he first arrives. Floyd takes in all the difference, and mentions the green vest. Char says he can't remember being without it, Floyd says he gave it to him, before beginning to apologize for leaving him. Char shuts it down, telling Floyd his injury isn't his fault, maybe a few days ago he'd have been mad, but he doesn't regret how his life turned out. He hugs Floyd and wipes his tears. Floyd tells Char that comforting was his job, Char says no matter who's older siblings comfort each other. Floyd wants to know how Char's life turned out. Char, eagerly tells him about Barb and Thrash, how he grew up as a prince, and his betrothal to Poppy. Floyd is shocked his brother grew up as a prince, but is happy his brother grew up in a good home, and wanted to meet Poppy, Thrash and Barb as soon as possible.

Eventually, Floyd is released. He's on crutches, with braces on his legs and has physical therapy routine he needs to follow to walk again. They stay at Char and Barb cavern (their royalty they have the room, and Thrash is loving the company, he's convinced their all his kids and no one corrects him) during this time and for a few days after the release, but tension with the public is spiking and they can't stay for long. Barb stays behind to control the crowds and the others go to Pop village. Viva would re-unite with Peppy, and begin preparations to move the Put Put trolls to the village, with an escort of Rock guards off course.

The saga would end, with Poppy and Char finally getting married and Char coronated as king of pop...with an epilogue of years alter when they had twins trollings, named Rosie and Ash (named after Grandma and Thrash).

---

And those are my currently plans. I'm going to outline this, but Not sure if I should fully write this thing out now or later. What ya'll think?

[thirsty-boba-fett-posts]

Okay. Let me just dump this out of my head with love ♥ I'm sure there'd be a lot of spicy entries, so I hope some fluffy ones are welcomed too. I'm in a post care mood lol. - ♝

Concept:

Post being absolutely wrecked by Boba because he loves you so damn much and you feel absolutely heavenly, you're sore and sensitive with so much praise and pleasure. That you've been such a good impact on his life, he can't keep his hands off you even after feeling that post-destroymepls session sensitivity.

He also thinks the pp is cute and proceeds to kiss it and find it adorable how you writhe even at slightest of touch. You also wake up from naps with scribbles on certain parts of your body. Either his name "Boba's", "Boba was here", "mine", "bite at -inserttimehere-', among other things.

Casually makes suggestion of getting your hair cut or set in a way that would best look on how he'll take you out loud and in public. Absolutely no shame in telling you "how a bun suits you when you're sucking him dry" or how "braids make me want to -insertmoredirtytalkinghere-".

Itty bit of somna because hey, waking up only to be dicked own with love is the definition of "good morning". - ♝

LET’S GET NASTY.

tw: smut, Daddy Daimyo kinky, somnophilia, possessive!Boba

PARTY UNDER THE CUT

There is very little left in the galaxy with the power to fascinate Boba Fett, but finding you nearly naked and fast asleep in his bed is certainly an enticing little late night surprise.

The two of you are still getting to know each other - intimately and emotionally. Both of you have developed different mechanisms for keeping others at arm’s length. Boba is dangerous and restrained, you’re prickly and cool.

A graphic, frightening nightmare sent you to his bed one moonless night. Strategizing with Fennec kept him up late and by the time he made it up the stairs to the tower, it was past midnight and you were deeply asleep.

Boba cannot resist running the tips of his fingers up your calf and the back of your thigh. When he reaches the hem of your sleep shift, he feels the soft fabric between his thumb and forefinger before lifting it to expose your soft, round ass.

You stir and he rubs comforting circles in the small of your back. Boba Fett loves a round, dimpled ass and thick thighs. He loves a girl who looks like she could sit comfortably on a Bantha from sunrise to sunset.

He straddles your thighs so he can bend over and knead the flesh of your buttcheeks with both hands. He bites down hard and sucks on each of your meaty cheeks.

You moan softly. Boba loves how pliable you are like this, barely awake and vulnerable. Your sharp wit dulled by exhaustion, your smart mouth bridled by need.

Something must have upset you for you to have invited yourself into his bed. You’re so fierce and intractable, Boba knows that any biddability you’re willing to offer should be generously rewarded. Taming brats, he knows, is just as much about providing a soft place to land as it is a strong disciplinary hand.

You blink and begin to wake. Boba Fett allows you to turn over onto your back and then leans down to suck on one of your nipples through your sleep shift.

He moves to spread your legs with his knees and pushes the shift up over your breasts so that he can more thoroughly enjoy them with his mouth and hands.

You’re still hazy with sleep and settle into the pillow. Boba continues gently playing with your nipples until you reach out to take one of his hands in yours. He rubs your palm with his thumb and kisses the inside of your wrist.

You’re so drowsy and he doesn’t want to do too much to disturb you, but the feel of your warm skin, your soft breasts, your thighs - he’s not inclined to deny himself an opportunity to enjoy you.

You come to when you feel him sitting up between your legs and rubbing his hands up and down the tops of your thighs. You reach out for him and he guides your arms around his neck. His lips find your and he squeezes your thighs as he kisses you.

When Boba Fett enters you, it stings as he fills you up and you suck in air between your teeth. The two of you don’t yet know each other’s bodies, and he stills inside you. He knows how thick he is and cradles your face in his hand while he pets your hair. He speaks softly to you in Mando’a.

The two of you have softened to each other since first meeting, but intimate experiences together are still novel and Boba knows that you need him to be kind and reassuring. You’ve allowed yourself to be vulnerable and he knows what that means, given your thorny nature.

He moves slowly inside of you, still whispering encouragement in Mando’a between kisses. You thread your fingers in his and he braces your hands above your head.

Your encourage him with gasps and moans and he finds himself thrusting into you in time with your breathing. You wrap your legs around him so that his hard cock can push deeper into you.

He nips gently at your neck and then bites down hard on your shoulder when he feels you spams around him. You’ll have bruises in the morning to show for all of this - he’ll make sure of it.

Boba pulls out of you and you whine at the sudden loss of the feeling of him so close to you. He shushes you reassuringly and guides you onto your belly. He pulls your hips upward and you feel the head of his cock pushing into you from behind.

You arch your back, giving him full access to you and he takes advantage gratefully. He kneads your ass as he thrusts into you. His fingers are bruising and you whimper and keen.

Boba reaches down and takes your hand, guiding it between your legs. “Touch yourself, mesh’la,” he says in a voice husky with pleasure. You do as you’re told and soon you’re both moaning as he pounds into you.

You climax hard as he grinds his cock into you He swears in Mando’a as he cums inside of you. He remains inside of you afterwards, running his fingertips up and down your spine. When he finally pulls out, he lays down next to you and pulls you tightly into him, spooning you and biting down on your shoulder.

You wake up with your head on his chest and your leg thrown over his waist. Boba kisses your forehead and pulls you closer.

You slide your way down his body, intending to pay him back for waking you up to make love to you by going down on him. Your hands find his erect member and you begin stroking him.

His fingers fist your hair and the firm grip on your scalp makes you gasp. His other hand pushes your hair out do your face.

“Mesh’la, your long hair is beautiful but I want to watch you take me into you mouth.”

You reach for a ribbon on the bedside table and twirl your hair into a messy bun.

He grips the bun as he cums down your throat and then pulls you by that same bun up to his chest so he can hold you.

Okay, so there’s going to end up being a Part 2.

@daimyosprincess

@nintendobl00d

@dukeoftheblackstar

@acatalystrising

@ladytano420

[garoumylove]

This Summer

(づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ Oh, also I wrote a new romantic/smutty GarouxReader short story called ‘This Summer’. Here’s a bit of it below and you can read the rest on AO3 > here < :)

And thank you for the kind messages from my last post!

~*~

He will get up in the afternoon summer heat, naked from your bed, in front of the half closed curtains rustling softly in the rare breeze. Something, an insect or a stray ray of light, has disturbed his sleep, that perfect deep nap after an hour of unexpected, yet so characteristic, lovemaking that seems to happen every time he's around.

Something has made him sit up, get out of your bed, your white linen sheets. Your eyes open, barely, still in your own dream world, and watch him walk over to the window, the subtle ripple of muscle down his back, his thighs in the thick summer afternoon sun pushing through the gap you left in the billowing curtains.

He'll throw the window open even further, but this will not cool your bedroom, the summertime air the same inside and out.

And you watch him, too peaceful, too relaxed to move, your hair spread around you in beautiful disarray on the pillow.

And when he's done fixing whatever it was that made him frown and drew him away from you, he'll turn and walk back, a swagger, a cocky grin, back to bed, back to you, perfectly aware of you watching him in all his undressed glory.

His approach can't help but make you turn over, stretch out onto your back, exposed skin against a patch of cool linen that will soon heat up. He'll make sure of that. And so will you.

You feel the warmth of his body slide onto yours, muscles smooth and hard, pressing against you, starting slow, another round. Thinks he can take his time, prolong the pleasure for all its worth, but this is a self-control he has not yet mastered. Will not admit that. But you feel the weight of him pressing into you, a sense of hot impatience starting, lips on your neck as your legs spread just a little more to accommodate him and his wayward desire.

The summer afternoon heat, the faint smell of freshly cut grass from somewhere. Thick, cotton wool clouds hazy through the drapes. And this boy with a body that's anything but, this boy who has grown up much too fast, on top of you, his tongue grazing slowly up your neck as you feel his full, unapologetic erection against that soft, delicate part of you. He pushes it against you, not yet inside, waiting for the invitation as you lace your fingers through his.

[cathyshifts]

just gonna post my experience here even tho no one asked

Okay whatever happened was so chaotic. It was a busy day, I went out with my parents since morning, then when I got home i took a nap at like 4pm, and i watched asmr, trying to sleep. I was in and out of sleep, i couldnt actually sleep tho, like i felt sleepy but i could only close my eyes and kept trying to count down so i would actually sleep. at first it was fine, then i would kind of yanked awake (lol i just said i couldnt sleep) a few times, and probably by the fourth or fifth times, i started feeling floaty, but then i started hearing my family outside, talking and doing chores because they have woken up, and i was like ugh im not gonna let them disturb me. So i affirm that i am capable of shifting to my dr, and nothing can stop me, i also said that bc i heard my sister’s footsteps close to my door and i thought she would open it, so i said that affirmation and was just, fuck it. and then i kind of feel myself rolled over (u know that feeling when ur soul and body feel separated?) and everything turned white. (okay so it was all so hazy i cant really tell what happened first. hmm but idk when this happened but there was a moment where i felt my body siting up, throw the blanket away from my body to get up or sth, then i feel my soul or sth just flopped down, lol like literally just flopped forward). So everything turned white? And i started to enter a dream, it wasnt a lucid dream, and idk why but i probably have some beef with Puss in boots or sth, but i legitimately forgot i was trying to shift for miguel and thought i was shifting for puss in boots instead💀 Also i have a friend in that dream, who were talking about shifting, idk who he was, but he was so handsome. Anywho, we started laughing as i finally remember that i shift for miguel, but i cant remember what we talked about tho? Like everything was so hazy yet so vivid??? but then he said sth like, why haven't u gone already? And im gone? Into another dream🙄 still, i think i landed in Nueva York 😟 Anywhoops, cant remember anything other than me finding miguel, and we hug, and i kept kissing him, kissing his neck, although my brain was trying really hard to picture his body lol, and he laughed and we hugged and kissing (god it was sooo weird bc my brain keep picturing my sister as she was the only person i have ever hugged daily💀) i felt happy, but bc i cant imagine well so its all so blurry too.

Anyway back to the dream, it kind of abruptly ended there, going into another place but still in the dream tho. So i was walking in the park, it was nighttime, and then i saw a girl holding a camera, shes filming sth, and then a boy in a wheelchair? and she was filming her, and he was going to a park bench and staying there. So they looked like they were laughing and having fun, until there were some group of bullies? Idk but they were real mean, and they started getting mad at what idk, but they started to get close to her, and she was too afraid so she was still filming them as she looked their way, and lol idk why but i picked up a bicycle near me and throw it on the nearest bully’s face (they were mostly teenagers lol) and then i grab her and try to swing my way out there, but idk i guess my brain forgot that im supposed to have superstrength so we kind of fall into a pit (it feels like we felt into a pit but it was just i couldnt carry her, there was no pit) and then it turned into a full dream, a thrilling, somewhat horror movie, i swing my way through the buildings and sth bad happened, and she still has the camera, so we were back at my apartment watching it and shivering and getting traumatized lol. Then i woke up (what a ride😻)

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Tepid Bath

@sicktember 2022 Prompt #23

Fandom/OCs: Hannibal TV

Title: Need You Now

Words: 1402

Inspiration: The phrase “I can smell that fever on you” originally came (I believe) from @victoriablackrose and her witcher fics! 

Author’s comments: Much more dark and angsty than yesterday’s fill, but always with a happy ending. It was only fitting to make both of the murder husbands sick this month if I was going to write them twice, so today enjoy the sick, pathetic wet kitten that is Will Graham when he’s missing Hannibal. Set in the same post-canon cottagecore AU as yesterday’s fic. 

Will was in bed when Hannibal returned. He had been in bed for… a while. It was hard to be sure how long. Since he'd fallen into the river, whenever that was. At least a few days, he thought. 

Everything was hazy. Will, alone, wandering around the frozen river, trying to find a good spot for ice fishing. Tired. He never slept well without Hannibal (hardly slept at all, really) and Hannibal had been gone for over a month on one of his mysterious trips. 

Will, out on the ice. Not paying close enough attention. The sudden crack, the splash that at first seemed distant and separate from him, until he felt the cold. Cold, hot, cold, numb. His body didn't know how to respond to the frigid water. He briefly feared for his life as his legs refused to move, to save himself from drowning. But at last he could kick, so he kicked against the rushing water and his wet, heavy clothes. He broke the ice with his arms until he reached a spot where he could stand and walk up the bank. 

He felt as if he were watching himself from a distance as he made his numb, shivering way back to their cottage, almost a mile away. His limbs were barely responsive, frozen as his blood seemed to be, so walking was more than difficult through the deep snow, but he also felt cold, stinging pain over his whole body. His teeth rattled in his head. His arms were locked around his torso in a futile attempt to retain any non-existent body heat. 

He reached the cottage somehow. Unlocking the door was almost the hardest part as he couldn't feel his hands and couldn't hold them still. Somehow he managed that, too, though. He stripped off his frozen clothes the minute he was in the door, frightened at the unnatural, waxy color of his skin. He staggered into the bathroom and started the shower as hot as it would go. 

The shower brought him back to life, at least for a few moments. He could feel again. He could think again. His skin turned pink, then red. He wiggled all his joints, focusing on the sensation. 

Eventually the hot water ran out, so he was forced to leave the shower. He bundled himself into several layers and considered starting a fire in the fireplace, but instead decided to rest for a while in bed. He thought it would be just a nap. He thought he was just tired. He slipped into sleep, wrapped in several blankets, and did not wake again for a long time. 

He partially woke more than once. The dreams would become more solid, and he would realize that he was at home in bed. He would listen for Hannibal, needing him, and be disappointed when he realized he was still alone. It would occur to him that he should eat, or see to his chores, or shower again, but before he could act on these thoughts, the tides of unconsciousness would pull him under once more. 

He was so, so cold. From the moment the hot water had begun to peter off he had been shivering again, through both dreams and waking. He was curled into the tightest ball, wearing several layers of clothes and covered in several more layers of blankets in a well-heated house, but all he could feel was the icy river water. The dreams passed in and out of nightmares, and he wasn't sure if he cried out or just imagined it.

Somehow he knew when Hannibal arrived. There was a shift in the dreamworld. He was aware of Hannibal's presence nearly as much as he was aware of his own. Hannibal's presence was like a rope he could cling to, to help pull himself out of unconsciousness, the thing he needed now more than ever. He grasped it desperately, yanking himself past the surface of the icy river at last. 

Hannibal was speaking to him. Asking him if he was well. 

" 'm tired, Dr. Lecter," Will heard himself mumble, hardly intelligible. " 'm so cold."

"I could smell your fever the moment I walked through the door, and now I can see it, too. What happened?" Hannibal knelt at his side, solidifying even more, and Will tried to focus on his face. 

"Fell into the river. Few days ago. Broke through the ice."

Hannibal's hand on his face made him jump, but it was something else solid that he could cling to, to remain awake.

"Your fever is dangerously high. We must bring it down immediately." Hannibal spoke matter-of-factly, rising to his feet again. He turned and strode out of the room, and Will faded out once more. 

A hand on his back wakened him. The hand was forceful, pushing him to sit up, as was the other hand around his wrist pulling him forward. Hannibal’s face was hovering in front of him again as he was helped to stand. Steely strength outside of his own propelled him to the bathroom. The water in the tub was running, and it had filled about halfway. Will noted all this absently, giving it no connection to himself, until the same strong hands began to strip off his layers of clothing. The cold encroached closer and closer until he was standing naked in the bathroom and being helped into the tub, shivering so violently that he couldn’t stand on his own. 

The water was not warm. The shock of it made Will hiss in surprise and fear. He pulled back from the sensation, splashing and writhing to get away, but the strong arms behind him were unrelenting. 

“In you go, Will. This is for your own good.”

Will couldn’t bring himself to put more of his skin into the water, but he was given no choice. He was pushed down, gently but firmly, until he was lying fully in the water that to him felt freezing cold, submerged up to his neck. He struggled to get out, imagining the tiny bit of heat he’d been maintaining slowly leaching away, but Hannibal wouldn’t let him. He held him in, rubbing his chest and shoulders soothingly. Eventually Will had to stop fighting. Hannibal was still so much stronger than he. 

Will realized after a while that he was actually, finally awake. He looked at Hannibal and truly saw him for the first time. Their eyes met, and held. Many emotions flooded through Will, and he struggled to verbalize a thought.

“I’m glad you’re home,” he finally said. “I needed you.” It felt totally inadequate, yet summed up his thoughts better than anything else. 

“As am I,” the doctor replied softly. “And I’m glad to see you’ve rejoined me now too, in mind as well as body. That must mean this treatment worked. I think I’ve tortured you enough for one day.”  

A gentle hand was offered, and Will took it gratefully as he stepped out of the bath, which he realized was really tepid, not cold. Hannibal quickly helped him dress again before leading him back to bed. As soon as he was lying down, a cold rag was placed on his forehead. Will sighed in relief, realizing the cool was now pleasant, rather than painful. Lastly, Hannibal handed him a handful of pills and a glass of water, both of which Will swallowed gratefully. 

“Thank you,” Will whispered earnestly, meeting Hannibal’s eyes. “I guess you’ve saved me again.”

Hannibal chuckled fondly. “As always, it was my pleasure. Though by my reckoning, we’re fairly even on that score. I’m glad I returned when I did, and I won’t be leaving you alone again any time soon if this is what you get up to when I’m gone. I won’t even be able to leave this house for the next few days until we get that fever under control, and all this could have been avoided if I’d been here when you had your accident in the first place, so you see where I’ve landed us.” The pair shared a warm smile, though Will’s was decidedly sleepy. Hannibal squeezed his hand. 

“You can go back to sleep now. I’m watching over you.” 

That was all the permission Will needed. He let his eyes slip closed and the dreamworld was waiting to meet him with open arms as he slept deeply for the first time in weeks. 

[tiffanylamps]

🥺🤡🛒🍦👀🤲🧠(joo won), please? :3

Hey!! I literally stretched when I saw you sent me 7 questions!!! This is sick, thank you! <3

From this post

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

I have a real soft spot for skin-on-skin contact (or just characters expressing their affection with their hands). So, holding hands, fingers brushing secretly, caressing skin, tugging on clothes, etc. Just small gestures like that (that could be missed if not paying attention) drive me INSANE! I love them!

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

This moment from courage to make love known

They make a comical pairing. A comment made by Ho Seok from his corner by Dong Sik’s side, smiling with rosy cheeks like the juvenile antics of the youth is just an amusing sitcom. Jae Yi has to agree with that sentiment; standing together just outside the light of the projector’s glare, Ji Hoon is whispering something probably incoherent against Joo Won’s temple. The older and shorter man seems to be considering everything Ji Hoon says with a great degree of seriousness as if they’re discussing a great scandal and how they will uncover it. With Joo Won - stern and serious - dressed in all black and Ji Hoon - cheerful and giggling - in pinks and creams, it is a very funny sight. They are chalk and cheese. Dong Sik sips on his second Moscow Mule and grins like the sight is the sweetest thing he’s ever seen.

“Oppa! Oppa, they have our song! Come sing with me!” Ha Eun calls from the centre of the spider’s web of friends. There are murmurs of excitement and encouragement from the gaggle of young women. Ji Hoon doesn’t look too pleased to have his immensely important and totally top-secret conversation interrupted. The two men continue to converse and slowly Ji Hoon pivots them away from the group. 

“Oppa! Don’t be mean!” Ha Eun exclaims and stomps over to her very tall boyfriend. She hits his arm without much force. 

Joo Won holds a hand out to put space between the pair, still under the weight of Ji Hoon’s arm on his shoulder. “Ha Eun-ssi, stop. That is assault.” Just the mental image of these two drunk silly sweet idiots gossiping about their friends, RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM, is sooo funny to me. I will die on my "JW & JH will be friends" horse! It's a worthy cause that everyone should jump on board with. Also, JW sticking his hand out and drunkenly saying, "Ha Eun-ssi, stop. That is assault." is also funny to me

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

I've already answered this but I will give you a different answer... sofa sex. I have accidentally included sex on a sofa in 6 (???) fics. Only two(/three-ish) of them have been published and the majority of them haven't been written/completed. But yeah... I don't know why I keep doing that.

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

I would say my sweet (and kinda shitty) little poem woes break the faucet (and a tooth-rooting fic I'm currently working on)

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

It's BE. post-canon. nonlinear timeline. alternating pov. think melodrama. passion. picture arguments. breakups and makeups. A N G S T. picture a ridiculous display of "idiots in love". annnnnnnd jwds doing something naughty 👀

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

Here a brief look at the fic I just mentioned-

The faraway melody of pitter-patter rain morphs lazily, changing in tone and tempo; as the hazy sleep-conscious fog in Joo Won's mind dissipates. His body is a burdening mass of unnecessary weight: limbs mid-rigor mortis from a dreamless sleep that has left him disorientated and aching, stitched to the mattress with invisible red thread. But he knows where he is as soon as he stretches his muscles like a cat after a day-long nap: toes splayed and knees clicking. His head rolls back, allowing his cheek to find the all-too-soft fabric of a pillow that is too fluffy and too big to be his own. 

Ah. He knows this pillow. He knows the entire set. 

He twists, uncoordinated with eyes closed like a newborn pup seeking out the life-giving milk of its mother. His chest finds the bed sheet and before he has the clarity of mind to stop himself, he cradles the pillow with arms on the verge of pins and needles, burying his face amongst the polyester stuffing. He allows himself a lungful of peace. Just a lungful. A deep and steady intake of autumn air and whatever diffuser Dong Sik has been using as of late. Not unlike a bagpipe, it inflates him with life and song, and he traps it within his lungs in secret, succumbing to its wonder. He feels oddly full. 

The mattress moves under a shuffling weight and the covers are tugged with it, causing the duvet to rustle down Joo Won's back with the same enthusiasm as crystalised amber leaves skipping across Dong Sik’s front garden. Joo Won suppresses the urge to ring out the tune lingering in his throat, which awaits on the verge of creating an album of wistful music that belongs to be dancing on a cliffside breeze. He could let this feeling of contentment out and grant it permission to be free from his body. It could keep the now sodden September leaves company… as well as the body next to his. The same body that has kept his gloomy autumn mornings iridescent and warm. But he would rather choke than be that see-through. So, he lets his throat ache with the burden of an unsung song. 

👀

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them

(For Joo Won) I can't really pick an absolute favourite BUT one of them is Joo Won changes his name from Han Joo Won to Lee Joo Won. He does it when he's maybe nearing his mid-40s, as his father has recently fallen ill and is in hospital (meaning Joo Won's life is in the shit all over again, because the public/media want a piece of him) so, to get rid of his father's name/"legacy"/baggage, he changes it. He alsoooo changes it because he wants him and Dong Sik to have the same family name (he's been influenced by western marriage culture). So, he does it for all the reasons previously mentioned and because jwds can't legally get married in South Korea, so it's like a sweet workaround.

[princecharmingmendes]

A Quarter After One | Raul Mendes

"Look, I know you're a hard ass but can you play with my hair? It would really help"

Hello hello! This was a request or an idea that actually came from the prompt above sent by the lovely @bvttercupbby (thank you so much!) and I was immediately in love with it. This is a blurb/oneshot that was planned to fit in the Hey Angel universe where they're in a stablished relationship, but could be read as an individual piece, but if you want to check that universe first, they're on my masterlist and the first part is in here (aster is also a blurb from that universe!). If any of you have any prompts or requests you'd like to see, feel free to send them to me, even anonymously. Anyway, I'll stop ranting now, happy reading and don't forget to tell me what where your thoughts on this piece!

*Word Count: 2.3K+

*Warnings: a few curse words, and I guess that's it;

*Posted: April 9th, 2021.

                                                -*-

It was a hard day and Y/N was tired, but she simply couldn’t sleep. 

Her shift was long and exhausting, too much happened in a short span of time. Too many bad news and annoyingly arrogant people to deal with, and she even had and early shift the next morning. So when she got home she was finally able to breath. Technically she went to her boyfriend’s apartment since Raul knew she had a tough day, and they were basically always together, switching between their places at least twice a week. He texted her as soon as she got in with the spare key he gave her a few months ago, letting Y/N know he was going to take an extra hour cause he got caught up, that she didn’t have to wait for him to do anything. 

So Y/N decided to head to his room and take a long warm shower to relax her nerves a bit. After washing her hair, taking her time to get all soft and exfoliated, and even going as far as applying a hair mask to keep it shiny. Then she changed into a pair of sweats and soft big T-shirt she loved borrowing (or ‘stealing’ as Raul liked saying) and padded downstairs, slumping on the couch with her phone in hands. But before she could curl up in the soft baby pink blanket Raul kept their for her, she heard the front door opening, and as she turned around to check, her boyfriend was walking in with a few bags on his hands. 

“Hi, Bambi” he smiled at her, placing the bags on the counter, alongside his stuff.

Y/N got up from the couch and trailed behind him, circling her arms around his middle, nuzzling her face on his back “Hi”

“Needy?” he asked with a chuckle. 

Y/N nodded her head “need you”

“Oh darling” Raul cooed at her, spinning in her arms to face her and gently cradling her jaw in his hand, the free one on her lower back keeping her close “I’m here, sweet thing, and I’m sorry it took me longer than what I told you this morning”

Y/N only nodded hugging him tighter and he leaned down to place a kiss to her forehead, before enveloping her in a hug.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I just had to stop by and grab us some stuff, wanna take a look?” he offered gently. 

And she nodded softly in response before adding a quiet “please”

Raul smiled before carefully maneuvering them so he could pull the stuff out of the bags“Okay, I got us the Chinese takeout you love so much, stopped by to grab you your favorite cake, a painkiller and as I was checking out, I saw this and I just had to buy it” he said before grabbing a Bambi plushie.

Y/N’s eyes widened and a small smile twitched on her lips at the sight of the stuffed animal, quickly followed by a shake of her head and a breathy giggle. And he was glad he got this reaction out of her, his heart a bit warmer when she reached out to gently cradle the toy in her arms before pulling Raul for a tighter hug. 

“You’re so annoying” she mumbled against his chest as he laughed, pressing a few kisses to her hair “but I love you for it”

“I love you too, Bambi” he pressed a final kiss before pulling away a bit, despite her whine, to look at her a bit better “you look comfy, that T-shirt seems to be really soft, is it new? Could swear I had one like that”

“Oh fuck off” she said playfully rolling her eyes and he chuckled at her.

“That’s my girl” he mumbled as he watched her getting flustered at his compliment “now lemme shower real quick, you can go ahead a pick the movie and as soon as I’m back I’ll bring the food so we can eat it on the couch and maybe cuddle a bit before bed, yeah? How does that sound? Good?”

“Yes, thank you”

“Of course, Bambi” he said pressing a quick peck to her lips “just don’t pick something you want us to pay attention to, I guess we both need the rest”

“Okay” was all she replied as he moved to his room. 

While she waited for him, Y/N settled back down in her spot on the couch and started scrolling through movie options, and ended up choosing a random action movie they’ve probably watched way too many times before, but she couldn’t simply be bothered. A few minutes since he left, Raul was back, hair still wet from the shower, in a pair of sweats and a random t-shirt. He was quick to grab the stuff he brought them for dinner and to plop down beside her, swinging an arm over her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her hairline. 

They watched the movie as the dug into the little containers and had desert, before actually dumping their dishes in the sink and coming back for a cuddle. Y/N finally started feeling her muscles relaxing as she laid flat on top of Raul’s body as they finished the movie, his hands lazily running up and down her spine. She wasn’t feeling so nervous anymore, and as much as she would give anything for a long night of sleep, she felt like she wasn’t going to be able to actually get a proper one. On the other hand, her boyfriend was struggling to finish the feature film, his movements kept coming to a stop, only for him to sigh and resuming his previous ministrations.

“Raul?” she called his name softly into the dark room.

He only hummed in response, squeezing her a bit tighter to his body, making her let out a breathy giggle.

“I think it’s time for us to go to bed” Y/N tilted her head to look up at him, only to find him smirking at her and before he could make any dirty joke, she lightly slapped his chest “don’t even start”

Raul chuckled and shook his head “yeah, I’m completely worn out”

“Come on then, champ” she said lifting herself up from him, and consequently the couch as well. 

Raul lazily rolled out of his place, grabbing her hand and trailing up with her to his bedroom. They both went on their little night time skin care/ general routine, side by side on his bathroom as they did most nights before collapsing on top of his duvet. He gently coaxed her to get under the covers before turning off the light. Y/N scooted a bit closer to him and he was quick to get it, pulling her to his chest before placing a quick peck on her lips with a chuckle. 

“What time do you have to be up tomorrow?”

Y/N sighed before actually answering “seven, I think, why?”

“I have to be up around the same time, so I’ll make us some breakfast” he mumbled, his voice already getting a bit more sleepy and slow. 

“Okay, thank you for today, I really appreciate it” she said playing with the soft material of his shirt.

She felt Raul smile against her hair as he nuzzled his face there “of course, Bambi, I love you so much, m’angel”

Y/N smiled at his sweet confession at his hazy state “I love you too”

“I know, Bambi, otherwise you wouldn’t put up with my shit” he murmured and she giggled in response “goodnight, angel”

“Goodnight, Raul”

                                               -*-

Y/N was getting frustrated. 

She was tired. Exhausted both physically and mentally, and all she needed was to sleep, but she couldn’t. She fell asleep rather quickly, only to wake up half an hour later and to get stuck in a cycle of napping for a few minutes and being partially awake for the others. 

Her muscles were tight, her bones hurting, her head pounding and she didn’t have much to do. Y/N didn’t want to get up and go watch something on the couch, that wasn’t going to help. But she also didn’t felt like laying down for hours on end without being able to properly fall asleep. And waking up her boyfriend wasn’t an option, even though she knew Raul wouldn’t mind, she felt bad doing it to him knowing well he had at least three surgery’s   in the following morning. So she didn’t have much to do. Y/N tried moving as little as she could, as to not to disturb the sleeping body next to her, and she managed to detangle herself from Raul’s arms to not wake him up. 

But it didn’t go exactly as planned as she heard him sigh heavily before turning on his side to face her. Y/N tried to pretend to be asleep, hoping it was just him dreaming or something like that, but when she felt him gently pushing the hair out of her face and moving it behind her ear, she opened her eyes to look up at him. 

“Bambi, what’s keeping you up?” he croaked in a raspy sleepy tone and she just shrugged in response, making him sigh “I’ve been feeling you trash around for at least an hour now, tell me what’s going on so I can try to fix it and finally put you to sleep”

Her voice was small as she finally spoke up, almost afraid she’d piss him off “I don’t know, I just can’t”

“Darling, is past one A.M. and we both work not that early tomorrow, but we still need to be up at seven, so please tell what’s bothering you” he sighed in defeat.

Y/N shook her head “It’s nothing, really, you should go to sleep” 

“I really wish I could just pretend to believe in you, turn around and go back to sleep, but we both know that’s not happening, and I’d be a jerk if I did that, so please, I just want to help” he laid his hand on her jaw, his thumb mindlessly caressing the soft skin on her face.

She leaned on his palm, enjoying the warmth of his palm seeping onto her skin “I just think I might still be a bit stressed with what happened today, and that’s making me restless”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Before we laid down? I could’ve made you some tea or something else to try to calm you a bit more, maybe even a massage, you know I’m good at it” he had a frown on his face as he said it, concern lacing his features and his voice. 

“I guess I didn’t want to be a bother, specially with something that stupid”

Raul’s honeyed eyes softened at her admission “it’s not stupid if it’s keeping you up at night, Bambi, you should’ve known that, and I would never judge you for it”

“I know, and saying it aloud makes me even more dumb for not sharing it earlier and maybe even saving us from this, I’m sorry I kept you up” 

“Oh angel, come here” he said before pulling her into his chest “you don’t have to apologize, that’s why I’m here, right? To take care of you, and it’s okay”

Y/N only nodded her head against his chest as she snuggled closer to him, mumbling into his t-shirt “okay”

He chuckled quietly before adding “Now what can I do to help?” 

“I don’t know” 

“Do you want a cup of tea?” he offered and she only tightened her hold on the fabric of his pijamas making him laugh “okay, what about a kissy?” he asked mocking the way she asked him for one a few weeks back on her drowsy sleepy state. 

“You’re insufferable” she huffed out as he chuckled.

“That’s not what you said yesterday” he sing sang and she slapped his chest softly playfully. 

Y/N shook her head holding back a smile as he laughed before adding "Look, I know you're a hard ass but can you play with my hair? It would really help"

As his laugh died down a bit he tipped her head up with his fingers under her chin, placing a kiss to the tip of her nose “jokes apart, of course I will, angel, anything you want, really”

She sighed contently at him as he pulled her to his chest again, starting to comb his long fingers through her soft locks “thank you” and Raul only placed a single kiss to her forehead in response. 

Y/N started feeling her body finally relaxing completely, her heavy limbs finally turning into gelatin, and her body basically turning into a puddle. Her mind was finally shutting off and all she could focus on was her boyfriend. His signature scent as her face was buried in his neck, his warm body under hers and his gentle caresses slowly putting her in a sleepy state. And she was grateful for having such an amazing partner to do everything he did for her when she felt a bit off, never pushing her to tell him whenever she was uncomfortable and being patient despite being tired as she accidentally woke him up. And even though this weren’t too much to ask, Y/N knew how rare was to find a man like that, and little things like this made her remember how lucky she truly was. 

“Now what about the kissy?” he asked after a few moments of silence and she giggled quietly before tilting her head up and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips “better, thought you were going to put me in emotional distress”

“Over a kiss?”

“Over your kiss, they’re special, Bambi” he said and she rolled her eyes at him, but both ended up laughing.

“Goodnight, Raul”

“Goodnight, angel” and this time, she was actually able to succumb to her tired body’s wishes and fall fast asleep. 

                                                 -*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

[misc-headcanons]

Hey! May I request some morning after HCs for Sanji Law and Zoro with a fem s/o?

Sanji 

Regardless of chest size, he naturally rests his head against his s/o’s breasts. He is naturally inclined to nestle himself in the tiddy, and may actually dream about soft things as a result whenever his cheek and lips brush against them--kissing really soft rose petals, floating on an extra-soft and silky lilypad in the ocean, etc. He always wakes up from a pleasant dream when he’s spent the night with his s/o.

If his s/o has said she’d be okay with it, he’d want to wake her up with some morning oral. If not, that’s okay too! He’ll try his best not to wake them up if he’s up before them, but he’ll move a little bit to hold them closer and maybe gently kiss their cheek. 

Will NOT get up until his s/o is awake because he doesn’t want to wake her. Once her eyes open, he’ll run his fingers on her sides before giving them a good morning kiss. The two of them only get up after at least a few minutes of cuddling under the sheets, minimum. He’ll offer to make them breakfast before anyone else on the crew, and he’ll even carry them to the dining room bridal style after putting on a robe or something on her; he’ll put on a shirt and pants before heading out with them, of course. He’d love to see her wearing his shirt or jacket as a nightshirt, but he’ll still insist on putting a robe or something over her as well. He doesn’t want anyone else to see how cute she looks wearing his shirt and nothing else.

He’ll draw a bath for her if she wants one, and if she says she’s not hungry he’ll join her (if not, he wants to make breakfast for her as soon as possible. He hates the idea of his beloved having any kind of hunger, even if it’s barely there at all). 

If she wants to help him cook or make a cup of coffee/tea while he’s in the kitchen, he always hugs her from behind at least once whenever she’s in proximity to him. He’s so ridiculously affectionate, but in the morning it’s a special kind of softness. It’s less over the top with his heart eyes and dramatic declarations, and feels much more intimate when he gives her a sleepy kiss and gently sways a bit while he holds her close from behind as the breakfast he’s made for the two of them is cooling off on the counter.

Law

He has nightmares more often than not, but they rarely happen after he’s spent the night with his s/o. Something about their presence makes him feel less tense/wound-up/stressed, so sleeping with them is much more comforting and pleasant than sleeping alone. This is more apparent if they’d had sex the night before, and he thinks it’s due to the endorphins released during orgasm. This is a half-truth: it’s because he loves her. Endorphins. Law, you fucking nerd.

He naturally wakes up early and he enjoys just watching his s/o sleep until she wakes up. Out of context, he knows it sounds kind of creepy to just watch his s/o sleep. It’s just comforting to see her safe and comfortable next to him, you know? It subconsciously lets him relax, even if it’s just a little bit. Plus...she looks cute when she sleeps.

When he sees that she’s awake, he usually just puts his hand on hers as opposed to full-on cuddling the way Sanji does. Still, if she did it he wouldn’t mind at all. He’s kind of quiet in the morning and doesn’t talk much, just enjoying their shared warmth in the bed and the hazy dim light from the surface coming through the water while the Tang is submerged.

Is definitely the kind of guy who enjoys morning sex: Lazy, casual, sleepy kisses and wandering hands underneath the sheets. He likes how domestic it feels since he doesn’t get to experience that very often. He’ll initiate it either in bed or after they both get up and are in the shower together, under the guise of washing her back or something before his hands travel lower and lower.

Zoro

Zoro doesn’t sleep longer than maybe 2 or 3 hours at a time, so this would be more of a post-sex nap than a full night’s sleep after sex. If it is late and his s/o is in deep sleep like a normal person, he’ll get out of bed (trying not to wake them) and maybe rest a hand on their cheek for a moment before going to train in the crow’s nest, getting something to eat, or just patrolling the deck of the Sunny.

He naturally falls asleep with an arm around or over his s/o, so he always has to make sure he pulls his arm out from them without waking them up. Whenever he accidentally wakes them up, he just asks if they’re gonna get up with him or stay in bed. If it’s still late at night or early in the morning, she usually just wants to stay and sleep for a while longer. He doesn’t make her stay or go if she doesn’t want to, but sometimes he likes to stay in bed with her and relax instead of getting up from his nap right away.

He’s got a lot of stamina and power when it comes to “physical activities~”, so if his s/o is a bit more fragile he’d bluntly ask if she can walk or if she needs to lean on him. Because of this, he may have her do some stretches with him after she wakes up every morning so that on nights they do have sex, he doesn’t wind up making her too sore. 

Of these three he’s the least cuddly in the morning, but that doesn’t mean he’s not affectionate at all. Like I said, he’ll brush his hand over her cheek while she’s sleeping and he naturally spoons her while he’s sleeping, but he’ll also nuzzle her neck and kiss her when he feels her move around a bit after waking up. He likes how nice she smells in the morning, but conveniently doesn’t reply whenever she says that if he bathed regularly then he too could smell kind of nice after a night of sweaty sex. If they’re passing through a Winter island, he’ll want to pull them closer for warmth and will wake up between naps to reach for a bottle of sake by his bed before cuddling back up to them.

[s1utspeare]

@staidwaters asked for Li Cu and “selcouth” (in reference to this post; send me a prompt!), and since someone ELSE requested selcouth for a character I gave you an extra word lmao. THANK U SO MUCH FOR THE PROMPT!!! I LOVE U!

Also I will put these in a whole collection on ao3 at some point lol. 

selcouth—unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet wonderful hiraeth—a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home with maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past

There’s a time, when he returns, when he realizes he doesn’t know where home is. 

Objectively, of course, he knows where he lives. He knows that there’s an apartment with his father in it and his bed and clothes and things are there, but that’s different. It never quite was a home, but it really isn’t anymore, because it’s just… it’s so small. He’s spent weeks with the stars as his ceiling, even more looking at the same four walls of his room in the Wang compound, so an apartment with beat-up furniture and storage closet that was never used for storing things isn’t that much different from any other apartment he could be in. 

He tries going to Su Wan’s first. Part of him wants to because he missed Su Wan, but it’s mostly because he didn’t know for weeks if his best friend was dead or alive, so when he wakes up in the middle of the night with a short, sharp gasp, all he has to do is listen, and he can hear Su Wan breathing next to him in the bed. Also, Su Wan will cuddle him whether Li Cu wants him to or not, so that’s nice. 

It doesn’t last, though, because every morning he has to go downstairs and say hi to Su Wan’s parents, and Su Wan’s parents tolerate him, but they don’t really like him, and they really don’t like him now, after he filled their garage with packages and dragged Su Wan off into the desert. Also, sometimes he doesn’t want to be cuddled because that’s like arms pinning him to the ground and it takes all his willpower not to punch a sleeping Su Wan in the face, but to instead lie stiff as a board until morning. 

So he packs up his stuff and moves to Hao-ge’s, which is different, but not exactly better. Hao-ge is dealing with his own grief, his own loss, and Li Cu feels in the way of all that fury and rage. He knows, logically, that Hao-ge doesn’t blame him anymore, but he can still see Hao-ge’s face, streaked with tears, his fist pulled back, his voice strangled with anger and pain. Li Cu’s leg throbs. 

He stays for three days, just to be polite. He watches their shop while Hao-ge goes out of town to visit some relatives, to figure out what they’re going to do with his grandmother’s things. He knows Hao-ge is probably going to sell the store. It’s not just because he doesn’t want to run it; he honestly can’t, financially. Hao-ge’s not ready to let it go, quite yet, so when he gets back, Li Cu lets him have the space back, to trace over and memorize the corners of his home before he has to leave, makes a mental note to bring Su Wan over to help him pack, to keep him distracted. He didn’t sleep well at Hao-ge’s anyway, especially when he was gone. It was too quiet then. 

He can’t couch surf, after that. All the rest of his friends are dead. 

He uses some of the stupid money that Wu Xie paid him at the very beginning—and it’s really not even enough, Wu Xie should be putting him through college—to rent a hotel room for a couple nights. That’s nice at first. He has his own space, a big shower, cable tv. But he doesn’t know it, his body can’t relax in an unfamiliar room with big, wide windows and only one lock. He spends two sleepless nights lying on his back, on his side, on his stomach, pacing the carpet. He gives up after night two, when everything’s hazy and dull in the back of his head, and checks out. 

He spends the afternoon wandering around the city, toeing past the restaurants and coffee shops and arcades that he used to hang out in, the soccer fields and schools and parks he passed every day. There’s the manhole cover that broke and the city’s never gotten around to fix it, so there are perpetual orange cones around it in a cult-like circle—no, no, don’t think about cults, cones can’t have cults, it’s just a circle, Li Cu, come on—and there’s the statue of a dog near the center of the park near his house and he likes dogs, even more when they’re—not attacking him, they didn’t attack him, the dust of Wu Xie’s grandfather is ground into your bloodstream—and there’s the library that he and Shen Qiong used to go to for story time when they were really young—and now she’s young forever, a bullet in her brain between her eyes she died angry with you she died alone she died at the hands of her family—and eventually he’s on the soccer field and he’s lying flat on his back in the grass but there’s too much light and he can’t see the stars. 

He can’t see the stars. 

He can’t fall asleep if he can’t see the stars. If he can’t see the stars maybe he’s underground again, maybe—

“Kid, you can’t sleep there.” 

He lifts his head, wearily. It aches, heavy on his neck. It got dark at some point, except not right now, because there’s a police officer shining his flashlight into his eyes, and he squints into it. 

“Come on,” the officer says, “Go home.” 

Li Cu laughs and flops back onto the grass. The police officer mutters something that sounds like a swear word under his breath and comes through the gate, marching over to Li Cu and hauling him, albeit gently, off of the turf. 

“You been drinking?” the officer asks. Li Cu shakes his head. “Can’t smell any on you.” The man scoffs. “Jeez, kid, no offense, but you look terrible.”

Li Cu just blinks at him. He’s really tired, actually. 

The officer sighs. “Come on, I’ll drive you home. You got an ID?” 

Li Cu remembers that his ID is in his wallet which is in the pocket of his backpack and he knows it’s there because he had to use it to pay for the hotel.

 He hands the entire thing to the officer, who sorts through it, glancing at Li Cu every so often in concern, and clicking his tongue contentedly when he finds what he’s looking for. 

“Alright,” he says, “Let’s get you home.”

Li Cu’s glad this officer knows where his home is, because Li Cu has no idea.

Never mind. Li Cu is pretty sure this isn’t his house. 

The police officer rings the doorbell, and unfamiliar chime. A loud, deep voice inside says, “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” and then the door is flying open, and a large man with wild hair is staring down at them. 

Li Cu frowns because he has no idea who this guy is. 

The guy seems to know him, though, because he rolls his eyes, turns back into the house and shouts, “TIANZHEN!” 

Li Cu winces, cause his head kind of hurts now, and that was not helpful. 

The man turns back to look at them. “What did he do?” 

“Uh,” the officer says, because he’s shorter than Li Cu, actually, so he must be feeling very intimidated by this large man, “He was sleeping on the soccer field at the high school.” 

The door man snorts. “Of course he was.” He folds his arms, leaning against the doorframe, looks Li Cu over. “Yeah, you look like a mess, Ya Li.” 

“Wha?” Li Cu says, because that’s weird, that this strange giant man with large arms is calling him Ya Li. 

“That’s what Xiao Wan called you, right?” the man asks. “Su Wan? Your best friend?” 

Li Cu gapes. “How do you know Su Wan?” He backs up a step. “Is someone stalking me again?” 

The police officer looks very alarmed at that. “Again?” 

“He’s joking,” the Person-Who-Calls-Him-Ya-Li says, “No one’s stalking him. His friends came to me for help a while back, but he wasn’t with them.” 

The police officer does not seem convinced, but at that moment, a familiar face appears in the doorway behind the Person-Who-Calls-Him-Ya-Li. 

“Wu Xie?” Li Cu asks.  

Wu Xie looks just as surprised as Li Cu is. “What did he do?”

“Nothing,” the officer says, “He was trying to sleep on the soccer field. Which is actually illegal. So I brought him home.” He frowns. “This is his home, right?” 

“I don’t know,” Li Cu says. 

“Yes,” Wu Xie says quickly. “Yes, you brought him to the right place. Sorry, he’s been a little out of it lately. Stress at school, you know. Not sleeping very well.” 

“How’d you know that?” Li Cu asks in surprise, because as far as he can remember, he hasn’t seen Wu Xie since before the Wang compound. There’s a fuzzy memory of an apology, of being carried, but after he’d been thrown out the window, he woke up on a train. 

He glares at the windows to the side of the house. He does not trust them. 

Wu Xie gathers him by the shoulders and pulls him through the doorway. “Thank you, officer. I’ll make sure that it doesn’t happen again.” 

“Okay…” the police officer says. “Um. Get some rest, kid.” 

“Mmm hmm,” Li Cu mumbles, even though he knows that probably won’t happen, and Wu Xie shuts the door. 

“What’s the matter with you?” he asks. “You’re supposed to be at home.” 

“I dunno where it is,” Li Cu says. He yawns, widely. How long has it been since he slept? He has no idea. 

“You don’t know where your house is?” Wu Xie says slowly, like he’s trying to figure something out. He’ll be able to do it. Wu Xie has a Big Brain. 

“My house is where my house is,” Li Cu says vaguely. “I dunno where’s home.” 

Wu Xie goes silent for a moment. “I see.” 

Li Cu blinks himself into less of a stupor, figures out where his hands went (they were on the end of his arms). “I’ll go back there, I guess. Sorry.” 

“No, no, wait,” Wu Xie says, which is funny, because Li Cu hasn’t moved. “It’s late. You’re… really tired. We have a couch.” 

“Good for you,” Li Cu congratulates him. 

Wu Xie closes his eyes for a second, gritting his teeth. “The couch is for you.” 

“You’re giving me a couch?” 

“Oh my god,” Wu Xie says. 

The Person-Who-Calls-Him-Ya-Li laughs. “You sure chose a good one, Tianzhen.” 

“Shut up, Pangzi,” Wu Xie mutters, because apparently he is this Tianzhen person. 

“Make him take a nap for an hour,” Pangzi says, wandering off down the hall. “Then dinner’ll be ready.” 

“We had dinner earlier,” Wu Xie calls after him. 

Pangzi stops, looks at Wu Xie pointedly. “Nope. Dinner. In an hour. So the kid can join us.” 

“Oh,” Wu Xie says. “Oh, right. Yeah. Dinner.” 

Li Cu might puzzle through this if he were more awake, but he’s really not. “What?” 

Wu Xie sighs at him. Li Cu should really stop making him do that. “Alright,” he says, “Come with me.” 

Li Cu dutifully follows Wu Xie down the hallway, because he’s followed Wu Xie into worse places. 

They come out into a wide-open room, full of books and random vases and boxes of papers and bits and bobs. Sure enough, there’s a couch there, and Wu Xie steers Li Cu over to it, pushing against his shoulders gently to make him sit. The couch is pretty soft, a well-worn type of feel to it, like someone has sat here every day for years and years and filled it full of memories. 

“I’m not going to ask if you need to be hom—back at your place, because I really doubt it,” Wu Xie tells him. His voice is coming from below Li Cu’s ears, so Li Cu looks down to see Wu Xie pulling off one of his boots, so Li Cu flops over his knees to pull of the other one, but his fingers get tangled in the laces, and he gives up and lets Wu Xie do it.

Wu Xie sighs at him. He takes Li Cu’s backpack and puts it next to the coffee table, where Li Cu can see it. He appreciates that. It’s good to know where things are. If you know where your things are, you can’t lose them. If you know where snakes are, they can’t bite you. If you know where Wu Xie is, you don’t have to miss him. 

“Lie down,” Wu Xie says softly, and the couch really is comfortable, so Li Cu tentatively pulls his legs up and sets his head down and gazes at the lamp next to an armchair. 

Wu Xie drags the throw blanket from the back of the couch and settles it around Li Cu’s body, which might be a little overkill, because Li Cu isn’t going to be here that long, he’s just going to rest for a moment, and then he’ll leave. Then he’ll get out of Wu Xie’s way. He’ll go back. Just a few minutes. 

Wu Xie straightens up, grunting a little bit, and Li Cu almost says, don’t go, but he bites his tongue.  He can’t ask that much of Wu Xie. Wu Xie’s already giving him a couch. 

But then, Wu Xie doesn’t leave. He goes over to the armchair, picks up the notebook lying tent-style over its arm, flips through it. Someone’s glasses are on the end table, and that someone turns out to be Wu Xie, because they go on his nose as he takes in whatever the journal says, chewing the inside of his cheek absently and tapping a pattern out on his knee. 

Li Cu blinks, slowly. Wu Xie is warm and marvelous, he thinks. He’s fading into a soft glow, backlit by a warm light that reminds Li Cu of something, something good, something he thought he lost, but maybe not. Maybe not. 

He falls asleep and dreams he’s home.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Magnificent Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a squeal-inducing date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

There’s a phone call that comes BEFORE the date: here

Valentine’s 2020 Collection: Gavin // Kiro // Lucien

The date begins with MC sitting alone in a café. The temperature is incredibly hot, and the fragrance of roses is in the air.

She’s on a video call with Anna, who very helpfully establishes the context for us - Victor brought MC to South America to participate in the Rose Festival as a “reward” for completing an assignment the previous year.

It’s MC’s final day in this foreign country, and she wants to make full use of it.

Anna notes that MC’s complexion doesn’t look good. MC looks at herself in the screen and realizes that she indeed looks paler than usual. She says the weather is too warm, so she feels a little faint.

Anna is still worried about MC as she remembers how MC did quite a lot of overtime before leaving for the vacation. MC tells Anna to hide this matter from Victor.

Anna: You haven’t…

Anna stops abruptly, her eyes looking at something behind me. Having a bad feeling, I turn around.

Finished with his video-conference, Victor walks down the stairs towards me, wearing his usual suit.

He stands behind me, his eyes sweeping over the phone screen on the table before raising an eyebrow.

Victor: What are you hiding from me?

Anna ends the call.

MC: Your meeting is over?

I flash Victor a wide smile, forcefully changing the topic.

Victor: It ended earlier than expected.

Victor doesn’t press further. He loosens his tie. I realise that there is a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

MC: You didn’t have to rush over. Don’t you feel warm dressed like that?

Victor: It’s still okay.

He lifts the small luggage beside me, then picks up the sun hat on the table and places it on my head.

Victor: There are still a few hours before the event starts. That “Travel Guide” you did on the plane can be put to use now.

I widen my eyes and look at him from underneath my hat.

MC: How did you know about that? I thought I did it covertly…

Victor: What do you think? Of course I saw it.

MC: So you weren’t sleeping at all!

Hearing my “accusation”, Victor glances at me, his tone slightly teasing.

Victor: Someone’s soliloquy woke me up.

MC: Since you know about it… leave the rest to me. Let’s set out towards the Rose Festival!

Ignoring the discomfort in my body, I raise a fist in the air in high spirits.

There is a look of resignation in Victor’s eyes, but the corners of his lips are dyed with the warmth of sunlight, hooking upwards into a slight smile.

Victor: I shall wait and see then.

They go for a walk:

MC: I heard the Rose Festival has been around for a few hundred years!

I look at the flower baskets sold along the streets, and I feel like getting one.

MC: On this day, the men will invite their other half to dance. They will find the “most beautiful rose” during the event, and he will present it to her with a lover’s kiss. Isn’t it very romantic?

I share what I had read up online. Victor listens to me quietly, his thin lips pursing into a nice smile.

Victor: You did your homework.

MC: Of course I did! You specially accompanied me here, so of course I’d want you to have a memorable experience!

Victor: Haven’t you gotten it the other way round?

My grand ambition is suddenly interrupted. Victor takes the small slip of paper containing our travel plans from me and puts it into his breast pocket.

Victor: This is my “reward” to you. All you have to do is enjoy this trip.

Amid the unique architecture of this foreign country, Victor’s eyes seem to become more tender. It gives me the sudden urge to capture and record this moment.

MC: Victor, I’ll help you take a photograph?

I lift the camera that is hanging around my neck and point it towards him.

MC: Cooperate and give me a smile! I’ll shout “three, two, one”, and you say “pudding”!

To my surprise, Victor frowns.

Victor: Why pudding?

MC: Because I feel you wouldn’t shout “brinjal”… Or else you could use another word?

The crease in between Victor’s eyebrows smoothens out. He nods.

MC: Have you thought about it? I’m going to take the shot now! Three, two, one-

Victor: Dummy.

When I press the shutter, I hear Victor’s soft yet clear voice.

In the picture, Victor has a small smile on his face.

My heart rate suddenly accelerates. I lift my head to respond with a retort, but a sudden wave of weakness floods my entire body.

The blazing sun makes me feel especially dizzy.

MC: I…

The camera almost slips from my hands. I sway for a moment before falling into Victor’s arms, and he realises something is amiss.

In my flustered state, I see anxiety written on Victor’s face. I open my mouth, trying my best to form words.

MC: Victor, I don’t feel very well…

~

The hotel room separates us from the blazing noon sun. I am seated on the bed, my head slightly hazy from heatstroke. The ceiling fan spins slowly, dispelling the heat in the air.

This room that Victor managed to book at short notice has been decorated with several rose-related ornaments because of the Rose Festival.

The rose petals which were originally on the bed have been scattered all around, adding a touch of fragrance to the humid air.

The sound of the door being knocked cuts me off from my thoughts.

After half a second, I hear the sound of the door being unlocked. Victor walks in, carrying a grocery bag.

Victor: How do you feel now?

MC: I feel much better after taking the medicine.

To ease his worries, I summon my strength to give him a smile.

MC: Though we’d probably have to miss the Rose Festival…

Victor: You’re still thinking about that?

Victor puts the bag on the table. He walks over and presses his hand against my forehead. I relish the coolness of his touch.

Victor: Your temperature has gone down, but you still need to rest.

After checking on my condition, he draws his hand back. He removes his outer suit and places it at the side of the bed. Then, he returns to the table and takes out the items from the bag.

MC: What did you buy?

Victor: Ingredients. It’s more appropriate for you to eat milder foods.

Victor’s back is facing me. I see that the back of his shirt is drenched with sweat. I bite my lower lip, my heart suddenly feeling lighter.

MC: I’m not that hungry actually. Just getting something from the hotel would be fine.

Victor: It’s so rare that we’re here. You want to eat those kinds of things?

Victor turns to toss me a glance, directly rejecting my idea.

MC: Then… at least take a break first?

Victor: No need. You should sleep for a while.

Victor walks into the small kitchenette with the ingredients, and the sound of splashing water follows. Hearing him cook, I start smiling.

I’m unable to sleep peacefully in my current state. Something horrifying is chasing me in my dream, causing me to scrunch up my eyebrows.

MC: Uhh… don’t go!

In a moment of peril, I grab onto something that gives me a sense of assurance, and refuse to let go.

Victor: Dummy.

A familiar sigh travels to my ear, enabling my tense self to relax. I enter a deep sleep.

An unknown duration passes before I regain consciousness. My body feels like it is being enveloped, and I’m unable to move.

I struggle to open my eyes, but all I see is a patch of skin.

MC: !!

I widen my eyes instantly, my drowsiness vanishing completely-

Victor is also lying on the bed, his arms encasing me tightly, taking an afternoon nap.

I am leaning in the crook of his neck and am able to see his chin if I look upwards. I feel his steady, gentle breathing - like a single feather - on my ear.

My brain short circuits and I have no idea how the scene before me occurred - until I see how my fingers are tightly wound around Victor’s tie.

While I was dreaming, I had pulled on Victor’s tie, which in turn tugged his shirt open as well, revealing his bare chest.

I control my eyes before they can trail further downwards, and immediately let go of the tie.

Perhaps disturbed by this movement, Victor frowns, his eyelashes twitching under the light.

I shut my eyes, pretending that I’m still asleep.

The body that is pressed against mine shifts slightly with a rustle. The sound of Victor’s breathing seems to change.

He weaves a hand through my hair, his slender fingers gently sliding along the strands. Every minute movement faithfully travels to the ends of my nerves.

I don’t dare to move even the slightest inch. Feeling nervous, my temperature rises, and I feel my back break out in a thin layer of sweat.

The hand resting on my body shifts. Our close proximity makes it easy to visualise even the slightest movement in my mind.

Victor: Why are you sweating so much?

His low voice is tinged with slight suspicion. I’m wondering if I should open my eyes at this moment, but Victor’s palm ends up on my back.

The sudden contact makes me want to quiver, but I suppress my body’s instinctive response.

Fortunately, Victor retracts his hand. He slowly extricates his wrist from under me.

The body warmth suddenly vanishes, leaving me feeling slightly dejected. Soon, the sound of running water can be heard from the bathroom.

MC: Huff…

I release a long breath and open my eyes slowly.

Victor is no longer in the room, but the parts of my skin that he had touched feel as though they are on fire. My heart rate is unable to settle down.

The sound of running water stops. When I see Victor walking out, I shut my eyes once again.

The spot next to me on the bed sinks. Victor sits at the side of the bed, picking out a few strands of hair from my face.

Victor: MC? Are you awake?

MC: Uh…

I pretend to swipe his hands away blearily, but he continues placing the back of his hand against the side of my cheek.

Victor: Why has your temperature gone up again?

He draws his hand back, replacing his warmth with a wet towel. He gently wipes off the sweat on my temples.

Even though I know that he is genuinely helping me lower my temperature, I am completely unable to control my own senses.

The soft towel trails down my neck. Victor’s fingers unintentionally brush against my lower neck, causing me to tremble slightly.

A bead of sweat trickles off my face, sliding down my neck and disappearing into my hair.

Victor pauses. I squeeze my eyes shut, but my eyelids twitch uneasily.

It’s as though my body has decided to go against me in every way. At this moment, my stomach releases a string of low growls.

MC: …

Quiet air flows in the room. I remain stiffly in position, not moving at all.

Victor: You’re awake?

My eyelashes twitch, but I still don’t dare to open my eyes.

Victor lets out a low laugh, then leans over slowly. I sense a large shadow looming over me through my eyelids, and I stop breathing.

Victor: How much longer will you pretend to be asleep?

MC: I… I’m awake.

Seeing that I can no longer put up this pretence, I open my eyes slightly and watch as Victor straightens up.

Victor: If you’re awake, get up and have something to eat.

After a late lunch, MC notes to herself that even though they can’t go for the Rose Festival, spending time together alone with Victor is not bad either.

She notices that there is a bottle of red wine on a low shelf, and that it doesn’t have a label.

Victor: You still want to drink after having a heatstroke?

Victor’s sudden voice from behind gives me a fright.

MC: I was just curious… did you buy this bottle just now? Why doesn’t it have a label?

Victor: It’s home brewed wine from the Market Fair. It has a special flavour.

MC: Special? Was it brewed by some famous master?

Victor: Not a master. Didn’t you want to find the “most beautiful rose” earlier?

I fail to understand the meaning of his words, but Victor doesn’t continue explaining. He skilfully removes the oak stopper, pouring the rose-coloured wine into a glass.

Along with the scent of wine, a sweet-smelling aroma permeates the air. I can’t help but let out a deep sigh.

Victor arches an eyebrow, looking slightly surprised.

Victor: I didn’t know that people who suffer from a heatstroke would also experience a deterioration of smell.

I ignore his sarcasm, taking up the wine glass and swirling it in front of me. The faint aroma of flowers becomes even more obvious.

MC: It’s rose! So you can actually brew wine with roses?

Victor: It’s not made using roses, but it does taste like it.

MC: Can I try it?

Victor doesn’t respond immediately, but takes the glass from me before saying slowly:

Victor: No.

MC: Victor, CEO Victor, Mr Victor, please let me try it! My heatstroke is completely gone!

I lean towards Victor, but he raises the glass up high. Even if I were to tiptoe, I wouldn’t be able to reach it. So I can only huff and give up.

MC: Fine.

Victor: Wait till you…

MC: Just kidding!

Seeing Victor lower his guard, I jump and snatch the glass. Because of my unsteady footing, I end up lunging towards Victor.

Victor reacts immediately and steps backwards, forgetting that the bed is behind him.

After a chaos-filled second, Victor falls onto the bed heavily, bringing the scattered rose petals along with him.

I’m lying on him, my mind a complete blank, though my expression still displays cheekiness and excitement from snatching the glass earlier.

The glass of red wine that sparked off this entire situation has tumbled onto the bed, its contents spilling onto the covers and even soaking my hands.

I dumbfoundedly take in the scene before me as the scent of rose petals envelops us.

Victor, who is pressed below me, lets out a heavy sigh. Loose strands of hair casually fall in front of his eyes, making him look less sharp.

Victor: Didn’t I say that you can’t try it?

While he speaks, I can feel the vibration of his chest as we are pressed together tightly.

I regain my senses, my face beet red, wanting to straighten up.

Victor grabs hold of my wrist, and I fall back onto his chest.

Victor: You need to change your habit of running away whenever something happens.

His narrow eyes catch the change in my expression. His expression, while remaining the same as usual, makes me even more flustered.

Unlike his seemingly calm expression, he is unable to hide the heat emanating from his body and seeping through the thin fabric of his clothes. This causes my body to heat up as well.

The air seems to be burning, and I can hear my rapid heart rate. Even my voice wavers.

MC: I will change… next time.

Victor: I’ve heard this phrase many times.

The hand around my waist is like iron, pulling me even closer.

MC: This is an accident.

I explain in a small voice, letting my eyes shift everywhere aside from his face.

MC: I was just curious about the flavour…

Victor: You’re only allowed one sip.

MC: You said it yourself!

The scent of wine still wafts in the air, tinged with the fragrance of roses, making the atmosphere feel even warmer.

I bring my wine-soaked palm to my lips, gently licking it with the tip of my tongue.

A touch of sweetness spreads from my taste buds to my brain. The slight bitterness of wine carries with it a hint of a rose aroma. It has a surprising attractiveness.

Victor pauses. His eyes turn darker, and his voice sounds slightly husky.

Victor: …are you stupid?

Hearing this, I realise what I just did, and even my ears turn red.

MC: We’ve tasted the wine already, we...

Victor grips my wrist before I can escape again. With an irresistible pressure, he pulls me closer-

A drop of sweat trails down the side of my face and pelts onto his collarbone.

His Adam’s apple bobs, and he uses his other hand to loosen his tie in a slightly rough manner. He releases a low laugh.

Victor: Who says I’ve tried it?

With my guard down, he pulls my palm closer to himself and sticks out his tongue like I did earlier, gently licking the remaining red wine off my palm.

The rose-coloured liquid and the redness of the tip of his tongue makes this colour appear fresh, and even more dazzling, in my eyes.

My breathing and heartbeat seem to stop. I can only sense the touch on my palm, like electric currents coursing through my entire body.

While doing this, he keeps his eyes on me.

Trembling slightly under his gaze, another bead of sweat rolls off my temple. I want to escape, but I’m unable to hide from him.

The emotions within those deep eyes resemble surging tides.

Victor: The taste is not bad.

MC: [blushing] !!

I widen my eyes and pull my hand back as though I just touched a live wire. Victor doesn’t stop me this time, letting me hop up from the bed frantically, almost tripping over his feet.

Victor: Don’t be so reckless.

Victor reaches out to hold onto my waist, his low and husky voice in my ear.

MC: You…

Victor: The “most beautiful rose” is not just a literal rose.

He lowers his head and leans towards my ear, his lips almost pressing against it. I can barely concentrate on his words.

The curtains are drawn open, and the scene of the town shrouded in dusk appears before our eyes.

Victor: The sky is the most beautiful part of this town.

Following his words, I look up and my eyes widen in surprise.

MC: …it’s beautiful!

The rose-coloured sunset glows from the horizon. The clouds hang in the air, drifting slowly. Embedded in the sky, the clouds resemble waves from the sea.

The sky of this small town looks like a rose that is waiting to bloom.

Victor: In the evening, the colour of the red clouds look very special from here. This is the most beautiful rose I found.

His tender and low voice is in my ear, and I suddenly understand what Victor brought to me.

I originally wanted him to have a unique travel experience. I never thought that he would be the one giving me this rose-coloured sky in the end.

Victor embraces me against the window. The look in his eyes is even more tender than the red clouds.

Victor: Close your eyes.

I close my eyes obediently. A scorching breath gradually draws near, and a soft touch descends on my lips.

Victor places his hand on the back of my head, deepening the kiss.

His actions are gentle yet powerful. The intense stimulation spreads from the tip of his tongue all the way to my depths.

The fingers that gently brush the back of my spine leave a trail of tingles in their wake.

The hot air cools as the sun sets, but the temperature continues to increase along with the intertwining of our lips and tongues.

My senses are completely overtaken by Victor’s presence. His breathing, his tender licks, his arm encircling my waist, and the heartbeats from his chest…

After an inordinate amount of time, I tighten my grip on Victor’s arm, like a person who is about to lose consciousness and drown.

The faraway clouds, like a rose that has been waiting for a very long time, finally begins to bloom.

The curtains are pulled shut, and the room once again descends into a dim warmth.

An intense and rich floral fragrance slowly ferments in the blisteringly hot air.

🌹

Phone call after the date: here

[sickfic-shiz]

Rest

Whumptober 2021 | Comfort

Warnings: emeto/vomiting (stomach bug)

Notes: thought I’d post a piece of writing for the first time in a long long while, introducing some new characters! I’d love to talk more about them and answer any asks about them!

“You’re sick, go back to the dorm.” Muqing repeated for what felt like the fiftieth time in the two hours they had been studying together in the campus library.

Wu Ming was shivering miserably as he tried to focus on his notes, even beneath two jackets— one being Muqing’s which they had shrugged off and wrapped around him after watching him tremble for the first half an hour. It didn’t take a genius to tell that he wasn’t feeling well.

“I’m fine. I’m always cold. You know that.” Wu Ming replied with the same thing each time, scowling down at the words swimming on the page as if they had offended him. He knew fully well he was sick, or at least getting there, but he couldn’t afford to let his grades slip.

“Jesus, at least go back and take a nap first or something, how are you getting anything done?” Muqing grumbled irritably, before softening his tone somewhat. “C’mon, I’ll even walk you back if you want.”

“I really need to finish revising this. Just focus on yourself.” Wu Ming sighed, briefly leaning his forehead on his palm. “Believe me, I don’t want to be here either.”

Muqing muttered something under his breath pointedly, standing up in a manner that made his annoyance clear. “Fine. I’m going to take a break.”

Wu Ming watched him stalk away, before letting his facade crumble a little more, laying down on the table with a muffled groan. Truth be told, he felt awful. He was cold and shivery, and his stomach had started to feel oddly unsettled. His head was starting to hurt something fierce, and he hardly wanted to think about how he would get through his shift at work later.

“Hey.” Muqing’s voice came from above him some time later, and he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I bought you some tea, it might help. You really should get some rest. At least before your shift.”

Wu Ming picked up the paper cup that had been set in front of him, immediately grateful for the warmth. He took a few small sips, finding it a welcome change from shivering. It was true he wasn’t getting much done right now. “Fine, you win.”

“Really?” The agreement surprised him. As much as he wanted Wu Ming to get some rest, he was also ridiculously stubborn.

“Sure. There isn’t much time left before work anyway. In exchange, get me some stuff from the pharmacy.”

“Okay, asshole. I’m not buying you tea ever again.” Muqing made a show of rolling his eyes, but still reached over to help pack and carry his things. “What do you want me to get you?”

When he returned with the requested medicine, (and several things that were, decidedly, not medicine, Wu Ming was a horrible scam) Wu Ming was curled up in bed, fast asleep. Muqing smiled despite himself, bending down to pull the covers up and wrapping them snugly around him. He rarely seemed to let himself rest, and Muqing almost never saw him go to sleep before he did.

He took the time to sort out the supplies he had picked up— painkillers, fever reducer and an antiemetic from the pharmacy, (the latter two he had gotten just in case) followed by green tea, canned soup and crackers from the supermarket. Muqing figured he could boil some water first, so he could bring the tea with him to work. The kettle boiled just as Wu Ming’s phone alarm went off, and Wu Ming moaned, sitting up groggily.

“You really are in no condition to be working.” Muqing remarked, even though he knew that it wouldn’t do anything to convince him. Instead, he pressed the back of his hand to Wu Ming’s neck to check for a fever, and he wasn’t particularly surprised to find that it was too warm. “Take your temperature first. If it’s too high, I’m dragging you to the hospital no matter what you say.”

Wu Ming took the thermometer that was held out to him obediently, still hazy with sleep. Muqing took it from him when it beeped, frowning. 37.9. To be fair, it wasn’t very high, but he almost wished it would be higher so he could justify manhandling Wu Ming back to bed.

“Did you get the tea?” Wu Ming asked, rubbing at his face in an attempt to wake himself up.

“Yeah, I boiled some water already, I’ll put the tea in a thermos for you so you can bring it to work.”

“Mm.”

“Take some medicine before you leave. I got you your painkillers and a fever reducer too.” Muqing handed the medication over, and placed a glass of water on the table. “Don’t take too many painkillers again or I will hit you and it will hurt.”

“Okay, okay. That was just one time.” Wu Ming fumbled with the packaging, his hands shaking more than he’d like as he took the pills. He didn’t feel much better after his short nap. In fact, his stomach was churning now, making him feel as if he would be sick.

“You could call in sick.” Muqing suggested, knowing it would be futile.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Yeah, because you’re too fucking stubborn.” Muqing glared at him, resisting the urge to just knock him out with a heavy book so he would rest. “Better not get a call asking me to pick you up later.”

Work didn’t start out too badly— he was just manning the register today, and it was a fairly straightforward job, even if he was standing right beneath the AC. Most importantly, it was at some high end grocer’s attached to a cafe, so it paid really well. However, it didn’t take long for his sick body to start protesting against the strain he was putting it through. Wu Ming alternated wildly between feeling hot and cold, and the shirt beneath his jacket was drenched in cold sweat after a few of these cycles.

Thank god he had worn a mask out. Forcing himself to sound cheerful was enough of a challenge, let alone having to muster up a smile. He took sips of tea from his flask in between customers, hoping that it would at least settle his stomach. He was so dizzy— at some points it was so bad that his vision was blurring and he was forced to guess at what he was doing.

Suddenly, he realised that he was about to throw up. Wu Ming caught the attention of his coworker, then gestured towards the bathrooms, not trusting himself to speak without throwing up. He didn’t think he could’ve spoken anyway, his throat feeling tight. After getting a response, he hurried towards the bathroom as much as he could without making it obvious that he was about to be sick.

Wu Ming was forced to tear off his mask and retch into the tiny bin by the entrance several times, bringing up a gush of liquid before he could stumble into one of the stalls. Hunching over the bowl, he braced himself against the wall with one hand, the other wrapped tightly around his stomach as he heaved. Wu Ming aimed as best as he could, trying to reduce the mess, but some of the puke splattered onto the seat regardless of his efforts. At least it was mostly liquid, most likely the all tea he had been drinking… as well as the fact that he hadn’t eaten anything since early this morning, probably.

Wu Ming sank into a squat slowly, his legs feeling weak, yet still not wanting to kneel on the tiles. He needed to hurry up if he didn’t want anyone to get suspicious. He dry heaved a few times, then decided that he was done, at least for now. He cleaned up the splatters of vomit left on the toilet seat before flushing, ignoring how the swirl of water made him feel sick all over again. Wu Ming stood at the sinks for a while, staring at his sickly appearance and splashing some water on his face to wake himself up. As he turned to leave, his coworker entered, calling his name. Shit. He had taken too long after all.

“Manager sent me to check if you’d passed out in here.” They joked. “You okay? You’re looking a little ghostly there.

“I’m fine, I was just…” The nausea returned in full force, catching him off guard. Wu Ming spun around, gagging into the sink.

“Oh dear…” They gaped as he threw up into the sink painfully, awkwardly reaching over to pat his back. “Um, you’ll feel better after getting it up?”

“I’m fine.” Wu Ming gasped between retches. “Just give me a minute.”

They nodded, watching him uncomfortably. It looked brutal, the way his shoulders shook badly with each heave.

“Sorry.” Wu Ming murmured apologetically when he was done, turning on the tap to rinse away any remnants of his stomach contents left in the sink. “We should head back before we get in trouble.”

“You should go home if you’re sick.”

“I’m not.” Wu Ming said a little more harshly than he had intended as he put his mask back on. He was so tired of being pressured to stop doing things. If he could afford it, he would’ve gone to bed long ago. Still, he hadn’t meant to snap. “I’m really fine. Let’s go back.”

“Alright, alright.”

They headed out together, and Wu Ming took up his position at the register again. It was terribly hard to focus through everything going on. The painkillers he had taken had started to wear off already, and he bit his lip anxiously. He should’ve brought them with him to make sure he’d get through his shift, though the bigger challenge would’ve been making sure it didn’t come back up right away.

“Ah Ming?”

Wu Ming’s head snapped up to see the next ‘customer’ he was meant to be serving, coming face to face with his boyfriend. “Guoqin? What are you doing?”

“Checking on you, what else? Muqing said you’d gone to work sick, and I was worried— you weren’t looking at your texts.”

“I’m fine.” Wu Ming had lost track of how many times he had said this today, reaching for his basket to ring up the items. “You know I don’t text when I’m working.”

“You look dead on your feet.” Guoqin furrowed his brow, helping Wu Ming to pack the scanned items. “I’m bringing you to see a doctor after your shift at least.”

“I don’t- no doctors.” Wu Ming tried his best to swallow the saliva pooling in his mouth and ignore the splashes of acid at the back of his throat. There was no way he would convince Guoqin if he threw up now. “I’m really perfectly fine. I just need some sleep.”

Guoqin studied him closely. There was no way he was well, but it would be nigh impossible to get him to a clinic if he was so adamant. “Fine, no doctors, but I’ll send you back to your room later, ‘kay?”

“Okay.” Wu Ming didn’t think he could say any more without making a mess on the floor, so he kept quiet, hoping that Guoqin would leave. He managed it for all of about five seconds before his roiling gut decided that it was done with being ignored and he muttered a hurried apology before tugging his mask out of the way and booking it for the toilets.

Wu Ming slammed the stall door shut behind him, scrambling into a kneeling position in front of the toilet, too desperate to care about the cleanliness of the floor. He had barely managed to contain the vomit on the way over using his hand, which was now covered in light brown puke. He groaned in disgust even as he gagged into the toilet, now struggling futilely against bringing up the thicker remains of his breakfast. The tea was one thing, but Wu Ming hated few things more than wasting food. It had been a fairly good breakfast too…

The thought of food sent him over the edge, and he quickly lost the battle against the nausea. Gripping the side of the bowl tightly with his clean hand, the vomit sprayed forcefully into the toilet, now unrecognisable.

“Ah Ming, are you okay? Can you let me in?”

“I couldn’t-hrrRRK- get up for long enough, even if I wanted to.” Scratch that. Being seen— well heard, this time, in such a compromising position, twice in one day no less, was a far worse fate than losing his sausage and egg muffin. “Please, just… go outside. I don’t want you to be here for this.”

“Okay.” Guoqin finally agreed. He was worried, but he knew he would only add to Wu Ming’s bruised pride if he stayed. “I’ll be right outside.”

Wu Ming stamped down the urge to beg him to stay.

When he finally felt done, or at least too empty to bring anything up in the near future, he lay his forehead on the toilet seat, too exhausted to care. Hopefully he wouldn’t catch anything else from the germs. Wu Ming stayed in that position for several long minutes before he could muster the energy to get up. He reached up to flush the toilet, then slowly got to his feet, trying his best to breathe through the sudden vertigo. For a moment, he believed he was about to pass out right there. When it had abated slightly, Wu Ming left the stall to wash the puke off his hand, before heading out.

“Ah Ming, how are you feeling?”

…right, Guoqin had said that he’d wait outside.

“I’m…” Wu Ming had meant to say he was fine, but he was assaulted with a lightheadedness that knocked the breath out of his lungs. He couldn’t stop himself from tipping forwards, and the last thing he remembered before passing out was being caught.

When he came to, it took him a while to figure out that he was laying on one of the couches meant for the customers. It took him a bit longer after that to realize that his head wasn’t on a pillow, but in Guoqin’s lap. After he’d made that connection, his face flushed, and he weakly tried to sit up.

“Hey, stay down for a bit, you passed out.” Guoqin pressed him down firmly but gently, then pressed a hand to Wu Ming’s forehead. “You’re burning up, dear. I think I caught you in time, but do you think you hit anything when you fell?”

“No, thanks to you.” Wu Ming mumbled. He was so tired now that the thought of getting up felt overwhelming, not to mention going back to work. “How long…?”

“Just about five minutes. How are you feeling?”

“Sick…” No shit, Wu Ming berated himself internally.

“Yeah?” Guoqin hummed sympathetically, brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. “Your manager said you should take the rest of the day off.”

“I… I want to go home.” God, he was getting all emotional and Wu Ming hated it.

“Okay, let’s get you back to the dorms. I’m sure Muqing will be worried.”

“He- he’s mad at me…” Wu Ming’s voice shook unnaturally, recalling what Muqing had said when he left. “He told me not to call him.”

“Shhh, that’s just the fever talking, you know that’s not true.” Guoqin reassured him. “That’s just the way he speaks, but he’d never stay mad at you. After all, didn’t he ask me to check on you?”

“Yeah…”

“Okay, do you think you’re ready to head back? I’ve got all your stuff ready to go.”

“Mm.”

[shishu-writes]

𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮: 𝐒𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐲-𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞

Ｏｓａｍｕ

𝘼𝙨𝙠𝙨: 65. 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙊𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙪??? 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙣❤❤❤

𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙤~~ 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙣 500! 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙞 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩 #65 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙤𝙨𝙖𝙢𝙪 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚? 𝙩𝙮𝙨𝙢 𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙙𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚!

A/N: inconsistent posts and stuff i write almost passing out at 1 am 🥵

Warnings: none?

G: Fluff

WC: 1056

Prompt 65. “How about a kiss?”

This week felt never ending.

Finals were rolling around the corner a lot sooner than you had anticipated, leaving you to feel like you were days behind academics wise. You had barely understood a thing that was being spoken about in your classes for the past month, so the study sessions you had committed yourself to felt like you were teaching yourself all new material, and it was difficult. 

Your sleep schedule shifted almost entirely, spending the nights catching up on work, paying as much attention as you could in class while scribbling notes down at a rapid pace that you promised yourself you'd spend the time to fix and beautify later but never did, skipping meals in favor of reviewing work you just barely understood, and power napping during the thirty minute school lunch.

This, of course, didn't go unnoticed by your ever-so-perceptive boyfriend. He noticed how your skin lost a little pigment, your eyes sunk in, heavy, dark bags stretching from underneath them. How you'd slump in your seat and try your hardest during the passing period to pay attention to the stories he was telling you without falling asleep standing up. (which became a game for him after a while. He enjoyed making up the most insane story while acting like it was fact to gauge if you were even listening, most of the time earning a small hum of acknowledgement or a halfhearted  ‘Really? That's so crazy..’ with your eyes half lidded. It never failed to make him smile, finding humor in the situation, but it also left him feeling anxious at the sight of you so out of it.) 

The boy, who didn’t quite understand what triggered such a shift in your routine, immediately caught on when he showed up at your front door, dressed for the day, ready to take you out on a date you had planned weeks prior. A movie you had been really excited about was finally releasing, and as a gift Osamu had gotten the best seats in one of the nicest theatres in the area for the two of you. This, of course, you wouldn’t stop talking about for days after.

So, when you opened the door, sweatpants loosely hanging off your hips, one of Osamu’s hoodies which was far too large for you hanging off your shoulders, hair messy (presumably from running your hands through it so many times from frustration.) and adorning a confused, tired expression, he realized just how bad things had gotten. A frown made its way to his lips, and he gently pushed the door open a little wider to enter, shutting it behind him.

“Did ya forget about our date?” He asks softly, as if he didn’t already know the answer from your appearance. “Osamu...wrong day. The movie doesn’t even come out until-” “October 2nd?” he asks, turning his phone towards you as he speaks so you can see the date displayed brightly on the screen. You blink from the brightness, eyes adjusting to the device in front of you before your eyes go wide. “Babe...I completely forgot I'm so sorry- I didn't even mean to I didn't know it was today- i thought it was still September if i'm being honest...oh god…” “Baby it’s-” “You paid so much for those tickets and i'm not even ready-i'll go get dressed now I'll be out in 5 minutes max just-” “Pretty girl you don’t-” “i'll be back!” you call out, running (or more so stumbling, your vision was a little hazy) up the stairs. A breathy sigh leaves Osamu's lips. He places his coat on the couch arm, kicking off his shoes, and follows you up the stairs at a much less clumsy pace.

 He sets two soft knocks on your door before he opens it, stopping you from the rapid undressing process you had begun, pulling the hoodie back over your form before picking you up, easily slinging you over his shoulder, ignoring your fists gently hitting his back and demands to put you down with threats of being late to a movie he no longer cared for. He takes note of your desk, which had papers and books scattered all over the place, loose assignments littering the floor, post-it notes strung messily along the wall, and your bed was no different. 

Without a second thought, he used his free arm to shove all previous work that sat on your bed onto the floor, throwing you as gently as he could onto the mattress. “Sleep.” he commanded, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it onto the back of the office chair you had basically lived in for the past week. 

Your eyebrow cocked, sitting up from the uncomfortable position you had been thrown in. “What? We have to go on our date- and you shoved all of my materials on the floor! I have to work on that stuff-” “Sleep, now.” he speaks up, voice unwavering as he climbed into bed behind you, pulling you back into his arms, wrapping them tightly around you. “Osamu...seriously...there's things I need to do today…” “what do I have to do to convince you to stay in bed with me for a couple hours and take a nap?” “there's nothing you can do that’ll change my-” “how about a kiss?” 

The silence that ensues after his question was answer enough for him as he pressed a gentle kiss onto the back of your neck, trailing the same, feather light kisses along your neck to your jaw. He moves one hand up to caress the other side of your jaw, moving your face towards him before placing a soft kiss on your lips. Just as soon as he started it, he stopped. “Bed, now. We will talk about this..” he says, rubbing his thumbs gently over the bags beneath your eyes. “And this..” he adds, pointing a thumb back at your mess of a desk. “When you wake up. But for now...sleep.”

A sigh of reluctance escaped your lungs, but despite your mind telling you that you need to cram just a bit more information in before your tests this upcoming Friday, the waves of exhaustion that hit your body when you found just how comfortable it was in Osamu’s arms was just a bit louder.

[nurseofren]

Keeping Your Promise - Chapter 27 (NSFW)

Read on AO3 | Read on Wattpad

Read Chapter twenty-six

Title: There is No Redemption

Words: 7.4K

Summary: Happy trail worship? Happy trail worship. 

ST Rambles: Hello readers, I hope you enjoy this part. I am in my final semester for my ADN and cannot promise even monthly updates at this time. Please, please, please comment your thoughts because I don't want to produce content that is not enjoyable. Thank you for your patience and understanding.

[MASTERLIST] || BANNER / @elmidol

Stress enveloped your skull in throbbing pain, Karmen’s six-hour rundown stinging your senses and drawing you inward.  Halfway through, you had already begun to feel the excess of information take its toll; Zag’s voice – unpleasant in small doses – grated into you, each word coming too fast and leaving too soon.  Thankfully, no doubt to cover herself, she had left you with a thumb drive; it summarized everything she’d mentioned.

After the ordeal, when she left by the sharp click of her heels, you understood why it was recommended to arrive two days prior to the initial hearing: you were utterly and dreadfully exhausted.  After unpacking – ensuring easy access to your favorite socks and keeping Snoke’s letter tucked into the back drawer of a desk – you had sat in bed for an hour trying to refresh with the thumb drive’s contents; you’d were determined to be prepared for tomorrow’s shift at Canto Bight’s recovery wing.  If nothing else, you would not make a fool of yourself during your practice here.  This you swore to yourself.

At some point you had drifted to sleep, waking to find your cheek stuck to the datapad that’d been propped up before you.  The sunset woke you with a searing ray of light, screaming fuchsias and hazy purples warming your outstretched arm as they cast through open curtains.  The breeze rolled off of the bay and tickled loose hair over your nape, a deep breath stretching your lungs awake before you unfurled from yourself. 

The radar at your wrist indicated Kylo Ren was near but not in his quarters, probably not inside the building.  It was a confusing feeling – the unsteadiness you felt when revisiting your earlier interaction, the vagueness of his words contradicted by the certainty in which they’d been delivered, but simultaneously this calm in your chest since you had left him.  Although you had no idea what he’d gone on about, or what in time meant, his mere presence – the fact that he was near and would continue to be – allowed you these glimmers of peace.

Not since Starkiller.  Not since Snoke.  Not Mason and his baseless confidence, no matter how much you wished to latch onto it; not Talia, who had helped you back from your darkest moment.  The only things that stilled you were the known proximity of your master, and the nature of the words he’d earlier spoken.  You’d felt it that recent night on the Finalizer, how it lingered in your muscles just before you’d dozed off, how it seemed his presence had scared your nightmares away.

However ridiculous and backwards, Kylo Ren – the one whose pain is printed on your skin, who led a slaughter just strides away from you – had become a constant.  It was never what you had expected, but when you thought of the trial now, what eased your nerves was nothing less than the raven-haired warrior whose face was slashed with midnight hues of pain. 

Much like you, you’d come to realize, he had survived Starkiller, and the event changed him.  Though you could not know for sure, you began to wonder if what had gone on had not only left him with the wounds that’d wet your skin, but perhaps ones that were deeper – ones that were not so visible.  Something happened before that explosion, something more than whatever fight had earned him that scar.

You shook your head; this was too much to think on right now.  With a throw draped over your back, you trudged through the room and out into the chill of your side-balcony.  This sky held more beauty than any you’d ever seen; you watched the sun descend, spying a domed, octagonal pavilion at the far left of the side gardens.  It dripped with violet-petaled ropes and emerald ivies, was supported by scalloped columns entwined with twinkling blooms welded from gold, the whole stage centered around a sunken fire pit. 

Considering for a moment, you saw it would have a better view of the sunset, and you’d been cooped up since arriving.  It was a quick decision, catching view of a spiral of stairs that led to the grounds, but only after noting the pair of doors a few paces left of your room’s.  They were closed, and the inner curtains seemed to be shut, the room behind them dark.  Empty.

No, Kylo Ren was not here, but – a thumb over your radar – he was not far.  Somewhere off on his own business.  Training, maybe.  At least, that’s what you supposed kept you from traveling with him, the thought frustrating.  Maybe – no, undoubtedly – he would never admit to it, never show it, but he was still recovering. 

Ten days ago he was in a medically induced coma talking about someone named Ben and how he’s dead.  Bacta works wonders, but it means nothing if a patient is noncompliant with post-operative restrictions, like swinging around a plasma sword for hours on end, or doing trial runs with the Force – which, although you knew little about, one could easily assume it put strain on the body. 

Maybe you were wrong and your master was completely fine, maybe the Force aided in healing.  No matter, you worried; for him, mostly, never forgetting how he appeared in that medbay, but also for yourself.  It was clear that you cared for him – for fuck’s sake, when you thought you’d never see him again you wanted to tell him you loved him – and you knew his pursuits could very likely be the death of him.  Stubborn as you might be to acknowledge it, so long as he was okay and not recklessly shredding through healed wounds, so long as he returned to you, you could rest somewhat soundly.

Hugging your blanket, tighter when the wind blew, you wandered down to the courtyard’s trim lawn, along the overflowing flowerbeds that brimmed with brilliant colors, until you met the few steps that led to the pavilion’s stage.  Flames shocked you when you stepped onto the eight-sided base, your presence triggering a hidden system.  The rectangular pit exploded into a rainbow of fire, thin veils of flames ascending elegantly into an ordered myriad.  The pit was massive, consuming the base but for a few paces from each support.

Much like everything else, the pavilion was grand in size and decoration; the hearth’s hues danced along the draped flora, at least ten paces separating each gold-threaded pillar.  Everything here was explicitly luxurious, so big and gorgeous.  You wanted to settle into it, but it was temporary, and you would not know how fatal that fact was until it was too late.

Farther out, flames rippled over the bay; the sinking heat of the sun endeared your skin, the warmth at your back growing in distance as you gave in to the silent call of the scorching sky.  First tracing the tip of one of the gold leaves woven to a pillar, admiring the detailed stems and ridges, you curled up against the column’s wide base.  Head caressed by the smooth, cool stone, knees curled close to your chest, you were glamored by the water’s rhythmic sway, wondering if you would ever have the chance to feel it on your skin.

It took little effort to keep Karmen’s lecture from your thoughts, too lost to the burgundy of dusk that bloomed as the sun wilted toward the bay.  A stillness surrounded you, and then you tuned into the chirping whispers of bugs that remained hidden with the fall of night.  It did not bother you in the slightest, their distant songs a reminder of your life before the academy.  A passing thought, fond amusement lazily humming in your chest – there are no crickets in space. 

You remained folded against the pillar for some time, watching night creep over the city, more grateful for the heat on your back as warmth waned, the moon climbing higher with each lulling minute.  The stone iced into your cheek.  You went to leave, but your commlink buzzed at your waist, and you knew it would be wiser to keep this particular conversation outside. 

Elbows to your knees, you ruffled a hand through your hair, closed your eyes, and answered Mason’s call.  “How’s your day, McCarty?” There was no use in starting an argument if he had moved on from earlier.

“Probably better than yours, if I had to guess.” He sounded chipper.  It was a relief.

“Well, what went on? Where’d you go? Who’d you see? What’d you eat?”

“I’ve really just been hanging out at the house since getting here.  Caught a nap, which was nice.  Soto sent me a transmission detailing updates on a few patients.”

He wasn’t hostile at all.  Hopefully it meant he was done being weird.  “I also got a nap.  Which, agreed, is definitely nice.  Especially after being kept in a room with Zag for six hours and trying to keep my head from exploding.”

“Six hours? With Zag? Are they trying to get you convicted of murder?”

You shared a laugh, scooting along the stone floor and peering up to the ceiling.  It was tiled with mosaics, the fire’s vibrant colors reflecting off of it and shifting along the intricate designs.  The view of the city was wider from this position, distant lights shimmering in windows that peered into whatever parties were undoubtedly happening. 

“She isn’t that bad.  It’s just her voice.  And I barely have a handle on anything other than the fact that I have my first shift tomorrow, and then two days after that is the initial hearing.  And I don’t even want to think about that to begin with, so…”

“Well,” he sighed your name, “I’ll be there.  Bright and early, just like you.  Wearing my second-best attire, saving the very best for the official trial, of course.”

“Jeez, that’s another thing, right? They fly us out here, put me up in some military-grade villa, but they give me nothing to wear, are aware that my residence just exploded on Starkiller, and then still say I can’t wear my uniform.  I just find that a bit unfair.  But that’s what I think, which we both know has not mattered since the very beginning of all this.  I don’t even know why I expected anything different.  I’ll just have to request transport to the shops or something.  And then make credits appear out of thin air to pay for it.”

With notably increased enthusiasm Mason said, “Actually, I, uh, I was going through the house earlier and there’s actually a lot left over from my family’s recent trip.  You’re free to come over and take some stuff back to your embassy if you want.”

“Alright, first – not my embassy, and if we’re calling it anything, I vote palace.  Seriously—” you stared at a trellis that overflowed with wild blooms of every shade of red, the dead, fallen petals mocking you in the familiar way they pooled beneath.  “—this place is too beautiful for any of the old businessmen who stay here.  It’s actually ridiculous.”

“So it’s not homey, after all?”

A bellowing laugh came from the center of your chest, echoing up to the domed roof and into the growing dark.  “No.  No.  Not homey.  Not quaint.  None of that.  Just giant and spectacular.”

“Well, whatever it is, do you want to come over and grab some clothes?”

“Oh! Oh, yeah.  That’s a lot better than spending credits I don’t have.  Although maybe I’m worrying for nothing? Don’t they forgive your debt when you die, anyway?”

Mason did not laugh, did not even speak, and your amusement fell into alarm.  An edge menaced along each pointed word when he spoke; “Maybe they’ll forgive your debt, but I won’t forgive you for dying.” He grunted in rejection.  “You’re not dying, so I don’t know why we’re discussing this.”

Silence swallowed you both, and for a moment you could hear him trembling, hear the shakiness of his breath.  A sharp exhale startled your hand from your ear.  And then it was quiet again.  He cleared his throat, and you noticed how thick it had become.  Was he crying?

“Mason, you need to tell me what’s going on.  And don’t say-,”

“Nothing is going on.  It’s fine.  We’re fine.”

“Funny, because when you say that, when you tell me we’re fine when I didn’t ask, it makes me think the exact opposite.”

He sighed, but at this point there was a good chance it was more exasperation or fuming than anything else.  “I’m not having this conversation when I can’t see you.”

“Well, I’ll just turn my transmission on and we can-,”

“No.” Clipped, barked.  Final.

It concaved your chest.  Mason had never spoken to you like this.  Your teeth scraped at your bottom lip.  “Should I be worried?”

He paused.  “No,” as it gritted through his teeth, your name was contoured with wisps of ire.  An ounce less of restraint and whatever he was holding back would crack this hardened, taut façade.

The worst came to mind.  All you could manage was a terrified whisper, “Are you revoking your seat to testify? Is that what this is about? Am I about – fuck – am I about to- I can’t lose you.  I can’t-,”

“I told you.  I told you I will be there.” Frosted fury swept through his following pause.  His flat tone was laced with quiet hurt when he next said, “Do you really think I could do that to you? Leave you in the dust like that?”

“No.  I guess not.”

“You guess not,” he thought aloud, a long drag of breath crackling into your ear.  “I’m glad that you’re settled in, and… good luck during your shift tomorrow.  You don’t need it, I know, but nonetheless.”

He was dismissing you.  You hated it.  “I’m not hanging up until I know we’re okay.”

“We’re okay,” he said simply, too fast.  Mason cleared his throat.  “Request transport for the morning after your shift.  You can shop around the closets and after, we can order lunch and… and we can talk.  About things.  Everything.”

It was apparent he would not give anything more away, but you knew from his flat tone that whatever it was, was detrimental to him.  Or you.  Or both.

“Yeah.  I’ll put in the request after shift tomorrow.”

Another long, aching silence.  You listened to his breath, trying and failing at ignoring the knives in it.  The line remained silent, the hanging static a backdrop to the hidden, harmless creatures humming in the night. 

“I love you, Mason,” you prompted, teeth catching your trembling lips, time choking you with every halved second that trudged along.

It killed you, every inhale adding to the weight in your chest, every empty, wordless moment he spent cutting into you with a silent blade.

Another second and you turned back to the heightening tide of the bay, the clear night sky dying it a deep navy.  Even as you tried to focus on the waves that foamed along the distant shore, there was no sound louder than Mason’s nonresponse.

“Goodnight,” Mason said, small, far enough away that it splintered through your heart like ice wedged through rock.

“Good-,” the line went dead, the static dying, a night-kissed wave crashing in your periphery, “-night.”

The iridescent veils of hearth rippled before you now, turning away from the seemingly infinite expanse of water.  Even so, you shivered, and you were sure it had nothing to do with the weather.  Tucking your commlink into your waist pocket, loosing a long-kept breath, you stood from the stone and clasped your blanket over your shoulders.  With a final glance, chin to your shoulder, you appreciated the beauty of your first night here. 

Whatever awaited you tomorrow, the next day, and in the weeks to come? It would remain.  For now, just this one moment alone, you could pretend that everything was okay.  Just for a moment.

A soft touch brushed your shoulder, but when you turned to meet whoever it belonged to, you found there was no one around.  But a light caught your eye, one that had not been there before.  Maybe that interruption to the dark captured your attention, but not at all was it what kept your gaze above the gardens.

Through the clear night, a breeze danced through the flora, glittering scarlet petals into the shadows.  Above those dwindling rubies, leaning over the balcony’s curve, was Kylo Ren.  Behind him, the golden light of his quarters caressed his back, small fragments draping over the sharp, toned muscles of his shoulders.  He was staring down to you, his gaze laving along your figure, eyes those of a predator aware their prey was no match for them.  The ever-heightening moon was all that lit his front, but it was enough.  No, so much more than enough.  Entrancing.  Captivating.  Beguiling.

Light cascaded along the taut strength of Kylo’s abdomen, his broad, thick chest emanating with the smooth white of the dusk’s sun.  Once more, like it always did, the scar skating through his features kept your attention.  From a distance it was less intrusive, but its presence sank your heart like the sun had wandered into the sea.

A whip of night air pushed his hair back to tease his ears, his head slightly cocking to the side when you found his eyes again.  There was no color to them, none that you could see so far away, but you felt their heat slink along your lips, then your neck, over your chest, and lower still.  When they claimed yours once more, they were sculpted with steadfast steel, strong and slithering, ordering your compliance to the smoking promises beyond.

Without noticing, that chill from earlier had left you, and you gathered the blanket so it hung from your forearm.  Kylo held you with his eyes, the fire’s warmth falling away when you stepped off the platform and wandered, in leisure, down the steps and into the plush lawn.  A dew was readying to form on the grass beneath your bare feet, the coolness welcome under his blazing attention.  One step, two, another, and a final; small, shuffling, like you were hypnotized – truthfully, you could have been, but there was none but your own intent in the steps that carried you closer to him.

Only when he straightened to his full height, standing away from the balcony’s edge, did you halt your advance.  He paused there, watching you, so gracefully still you were unsure of his breathing.  From his new position you could no longer see his hands, but – you could feel them.  A pressure along your cheek, your heart stammering at how its span so completely matched his own, and then around your throat, dizzying when it teased your carotids.  Breath shivered from your slack mouth, catching when that – his – ghosted touch skimmed down your sternum and pushed into your rib cage. 

Kylo made no sound, but when the night’s quiet scattered around your faint, gasped moan – feeling the whispered hands smooth over your hips, around the front of your thighs – you saw his jaw flutter, darkness and moonlight tangling when he gave you one final glance.  The phantom touch left, a feline smirk flickered along his lips, and when his brows descended and veiled those deep, deep eyes, Kylo turned and sauntered out of sight.

But you understood his message, the silent one that only his body spoke, and you knew that his leaving was not goodnight, but an invitation.  One you fully intended on accepting. 

The trees swayed above you, the beds of perfectly spaced flowers blowing with the gentle breeze and combining with the sea behind to fill your head with the salty, fresh aroma of a Canto Bight night.  Each step you took along the patterned grass shimmered anticipation through your veins, heady, wanton thoughts brimming in your mind.

The cold stone that marked the ground level’s patio shocked through you, wet crimson petals that had pooled below the trellis now clinging to the soles of your feet.  You did not have time, or at least were desperate to not waste any, to pluck them off, allowing them to travel with you as you led them up the curved staircase.  As you climbed the steps, you stole a fleeting glimpse of the bay; from this height the city’s nightlife sheened along the shore, a few private ships zooming above the skyline and carrying their passengers to events unknown to you. 

Events that you could not have cared less about, not when you arrived to the second-level balcony, not when you saw the swaying curtain beyond Kylo Ren’s open, waiting door.  No, those events meant nil, exceedingly so when you found the beginnings of a trail leading into his room, the first crumb that of pooled, discarded athletic pants. 

Instant, overwhelming chills clamored about your skull, the blanket draped over your arm joining the black bottoms when your limbs went wobbly.  Through the wind-swept gossamer you spied the second addition – one long, impossibly large, black sock – and when you came closer, the cool of night waning as you met the threshold, your heart thrummed louder at the nearing shaft of light that fled the refresher’s entrance. 

Heated tiles warmed your first steps into Kylo’s room, the coquettish curtain kissing the tip of your nose before the door at your back locked shut in near silence.  You brushed past the veil of fabric and took in your surroundings, quite different from what they were earlier.  The golden rays of morning had since been overridden by soft panes of night, only the moon reflecting onto the light tile, not a single star to join it.  The bed’s canopy remained shut, its thin sheets cascading around the bed so there was ample space to walk within its soft confines.  And from that canopy, from the circular track above, bloomed delicate, mild light; it melted midway down the canopy, fading to nothing before it breeched the polished ivory below.

Another step and you noticed the trail of scarlet, dew-drop-covered petals you were leaving in your wake.  On the step up from the bed’s level lay a second sock, so you padded to it, and tuned into the sound of heavy, rushing water that became louder as you delved further into the dimly lit room.  This level was dark save for the glow of the open refresher; you followed that light like a lost vessel in space, hands trembling as you passed through the sitting area with soundless strides.  Finally, as you’d calculated at the earlier bareness of his chest, you found the piece of clothing that signaled your final destination lying at your feet.

Atop the refresher’s threshold lay a pair of black boxer-briefs – unfolded, just as they’d appear fresh off the heated, muscled body from which they’d come.  A smile played at your lips, remembering how the pair he’d so generously provided you the morning after you’d first slept next to him had hugged your hips with subtle compression.  Those, unfortunately, were undoubtedly obliterated with everything else that had exploded with Starkiller. 

Kylo Ren was nowhere within view, but running water tucked behind a corner to your left, and when steam swirled around an inlet that bordered a sleek, unbroken wall of ash-grey tile, your lungs lit with need, with want, your thoughts only focused on the body and man that waited for you just beyond view, just out of reach.  Suddenly you became aware of how overdressed you were, so you turned to your right and found a mirror that ruled its own wall and plucked open the top button of your uniform.

The fogged silver expanse provided a blurred, softened outline of your near-bare body, scalding goosebumps scraping up your neck at the thought of Kylo’s slicked, dripping body.  Hands hooked behind your back, you loosed your bra and smoothed the straps down the sides of your arms.  And then all that covered you were the lack-luster panties the Finalizer had provided all those months ago, but they soon joined the small pile at your feet, leaving you naked and anticipatory and adamant.

Plopping your watch onto your clothes, you squared your shoulders, fixed your posture, and approached the heat of the hidden shower.  Its warm embrace evoked such a calm through you, first loosening your shoulders, then steadying your breath.

Beyond the smoke hued barrier was a chamber of luxury, the water cascading from above like it came from an invisible storm cloud; its volume suggested a harsh pressure, but, stepping beneath the jets that seemed to span the entire stall, your skin was graced with the pleasant fall of a spring shower.  Looking up, blinking through the misted warmth, you found the navy night sky peering down at you through the clear glass ceiling.

All light but that of the moon left the stall, and when your attention shifted down, you saw him through the sheets of water that kept you apart.  The air was thick with fog and mist and night, but he remained the most devastatingly gorgeous person you’d ever seen, ever known.  You needed him to be closer, you needed to be closer to him.  No matter if you’d been with him those few nights ago, and though you’d spoken just hours ago, there was a tautness that tightened as your steps brought you to him. 

Arms at his sides, stance strong and confident, Kylo Ren was a stride away from you, and you stopped.  Inky black hair dripped down his neck, and his mouth was set in a flat, unreadable line, but all you could think of was how it felt you were seeing him for the first time all over again.  He was different now, body scarred and worn from the passing of time.  You did not stare at the red and black that had only been there for such a short time now.  You appreciated it.

Kylo observed you, and a measure after your gaze followed the ebony ribbon rested in his countenance, you lifted a hand to it.  He tensed and you caught his eyes, giving him a small nod before the very tip of your fourth finger kissed the start of his scar.  You watched him, vaguely aware of your hand slipping along the marked path through his brow and down his cheek.  Breath pushed from him in eased waves, his eyes danced between yours, and when you reached the line of his jaw and tapped your finger to the raised, pinking skin there, you closed your eyes and leaned up on your toes so you could press an aching kiss to it. 

That tenseness that’d clanged into him at your touch was instantly gone, the heated streams above not a match to the stifling relief that fogged from his nares.  So near to him, a second hand pushing through wetted, onyx locks, you remembered how he’d stared up at you on the Command Shuttle, how unreadable his expression was when his new scars had still been fresh wounds.

Your touch found the tail end of his healing flesh, and you swallowed down a thick, betraying sob.  “Why did you believe me?” you whispered, not looking up to him.  “When I told you I hated you and I wanted to quit.  When I said,” you winced, “when I called you a bastard and said I wished I could forget you.  Why didn’t you fight it longer?”

Kylo was quiet for a moment, body still but not reluctant to the steady meandering of your fingers.  Something haunted him when he said, “Irredeemable bastard, if you’ve forgotten.”

“No,” your throat bobbed, “I haven’t.  I don’t think I’ll ever forget that day.  Any, any part of it.” Looking up at him, you smoothed your hand over the scar settled into his shoulder.  “After that morning, after everything, why did you believe me?”

“You were saying goodbye,” he murmured, like he’d mulled over that day time and time again and never considered the possibility.  “Before Takodana.  You knew.  He’d gotten to you by then.” A note of betrayal sharpened his tongue, a snarl lighting when he referred to Snoke.

The hand that wasn’t tracing circles along his scarred muscles now toyed with his ear, the tip of your index finger molding to the curved pinnae.  “Kylo,” just a breath, nearly drowned by the water ricocheting at your feet, “answer me.  Please.”

Smooth, low, he began, “Because who could-,” he swallowed, considering you before starting over, “Because I’ve never known anyone who didn’t hate me.  And I’ve always been a bastard.  So when you said those things, after that morning, after you’d ran through Starkiller to tell me and kept saying them…”

Memories fluttered behind his eyes, and as their burning brown centered glittered against the navy night, you lifted your hand so you could hold his face, hold it like a parent would caress their child’s tear-sodden cheek.  Kylo blinked back to you and you comforted the purpled skin beneath his eye. 

He did not want to voice the answers you sought, but you watched as, piece by piece, you dented one of those walls he’d erected in that time-stained interrogation room.  Perhaps it was a hopeful thought, but you swore you felt him ease into your hand.

“I stopped fighting because only a fool counters the truth of his life.” Kylo’s throat bobbed, his deep, shadowed gaze swallowing you whole.  He caught your hand and led it flat along his broad chest, and then to the panes of his abdomen, placing it over the bruised, raised flesh of the scar you’d yet to explore.  “I believed you because there was no reason to doubt you.”

The showering heat from above shielded that which was blurring your vision.  He believed you because he believed those things of himself.  After seeing him wear so many masks, physical or phantom, you saw it in his eyes that he still thought those things and had for his entire life.

And then it made sense, and the realization dragged jagged, thorn-wrapped talons through your heart.  You whispered through the water, wondering if you were speaking only for yourself when you said, “That’s why you didn’t look inside my head.  You didn’t think it would show you anything different.  You didn’t think I could ever feel differently.”

You ran your thumb along the uneven ridge of the scar forming over his side and tucked your other arm around his waist.  With the force that kept moons anchored to their planets, you pulled him in and nestled into the notch of his breastbone.

Through your teeth, “You are not a bastard.  Or irredeemable,” your fingers dipped to the center of the healing tissue, “I’ve learned that we make the choices we think are best, and if that’s true, if I believe it? What do either of us have to be redeemed for?”

Kylo said your name, clear as the night that loomed overhead, and a patient finger tipped your chin up.  “Nothing.  Because there is no redemption for those who do not want it.”

Intensity hardened his face, and once more you felt that sense of equality between him and you.  Long fingers smoothed into your drenched hair, and you found a prompt in his brow.  Sighing, lungs stuttering, you asked, “What, then, if not redemption?”

The hand that he’d set over yours shifted to your hip, thick fingers prodding at your flesh.  Kylo’s touch left your chin and the pad of his thumb rolled over the faint scar that cut into your hairline, a twinge of pain lighting at the memory of its origin; it had healed days ago, but you would never forget the sound of it cracking open when Robbie knocked your skull against the durasteel door. 

Kylo stopped musing when he heard you wince, his eyes meeting yours in a stark, unwavering gaze.  He smoothed over the blight a final time and proceeded to skate his fingers along your jaw, his thumb coming to rest over your bottom lip.  Similar to this morning, yet colder and with a quiet fury breathing beyond his eyes, he looked at you with solidarity.

Calm, sure, adamant, Kylo said, “Retribution.”

A moment to process was spent in his gaze, studying how unbreakable it was, swimming in the shadowed hazel that poured into you.  Kylo’s eyes flicked to your lips, and before he could look away, you leaned up so you could reach his own.  The swirled hair at his nape slithered through your fingers when you swept you hand from his abdomen and up his torso.  Massive, enveloping hands trailed praise along your body until they were mirrored under your breasts.

Exploring his skin, your fingers took residence over the small of his back, digging red trails along the slick surface.  You moaned into Kylo’s mouth when a capable hand claimed your supple chest and kneaded into you.  He growled in response, a predatory sound that rippled through your nerves and tightened deep, deep in your belly.  The pliant pads of his thumbs circled your nipples, the very tips of his nails flicking upward before he added his forefingers and pinched the sensitive peaks to his will. 

Kylo mouthed the hinge of your jaw, the bridge of his nose slipping along the bone until you surrendered your neck to him.  He hummed against your artery, sucking away the beaded moisture that’d collected for the past few minutes – or had it been hours? Time evaded you further when the schemes of his tongue at your throat delved deeper, revealed themselves further when he laved at your clavicle, shifting between kissing and biting and marking as he made his way to your breastbone. 

His muscled back flexed as your fingers routed to his front, dipping low until you found the haze of soft, wet hair that grew from his pelvis.  Kylo continued his endeavors and pulled you in by the curve of your back so he could bare your chest to him and run his nose under the base of your breast.  His need for your body was evident in the way he bent you to his will, cradling your back so he could have you, but also permitting a sense of safety in the relentless strength that flowed from his forearms through to your marrow. 

Near limp in his hold, you tread your fingers down his pelvis and savored the feel of that patch of hair, feeling his pulse beat beneath it, reveling how water collected and fled in such a slow, teasing manner.  His chest was to yours, so you felt, rather than heard, the pleasure vibrate from him, deepening when you grazed the very foundations of his hardening shaft.  He breathed into your skin, mouthing at your breast and sucking painful paths as he went.  The heat of his mouth melded around your nipple, and he bit, and even when you winced and writhed with satisfied hurt, Kylo kept on; not until you were sure he’d drawn blood did his teeth – their unique ridges now throbbing into your breast – leave you, replaced by the salve of his plush, scorching lips.  The body of his tongue was structured with adamant, laving over your pebbled peak until poems of pleasure groaned from the depths of your chest. 

He leaned you back up and shifted his attention to the remaining half of your body, but you needed him just as much, and you wanted to litter his body with the same pleasure he’d given yours.  So, snaking your hands to his jaw, you kissed the hinge opposite to his scar and pecked harder and longer, sucking at his skin like the blood that bruised would grant you eternal life.  Falling to your knees in a steady, unrushed descent, you kissed every inch of his abdomen, every bump and ripple of skin that was present around the mending injury.  With eyes peering up, hands cherishing the fronts of his thighs, you tongued the scarred tissue and watched him shutter with ecstasy, eyes half-lolling, mouth slackening for a second before he swallowed down whatever satisfaction would have left him.

You teethed at the soft, raised skin, watching him, content when a guiding hand pet down your slick hair.  Shifting to his middle, you hummed from one hip bone to the next, feeling the tickle of hair that fled from his naval and dispersed in an even, thick layer of black atop his pubis.  Hunger ravaged your throat and you nuzzled into the soft bed of obsidian hair.  A kiss to it, then a nip, and then the tip of your nose swirled around the dark patch, his cock twitching at the side of your face.

Anchoring your eyes to his yet again, you dragged the flat of your tongue through the maintained, drenched hair and pushed both your hands along his inner thighs.  The muscles beneath your touch sang, streamed just as fluidly as the droplets that were trickling down your spine.  Pulling away from him, you faced his cock and observed how it bobbed with your eyes on it, watched it strain for friction when your hands teased both sides of his base, sifting through the dark curls beneath. 

The moonlight painted his shaft with subtle, breathtaking contours – a shadow cast under the spongey ridge of his head, light glinting off the misted moisture that’d caught on his flushed shaft.  Each prominent vein cast a winding whisper of darkness just a measure from the next.  It hypnotized you, the way they overlapped and crossed at points, bulging out from his cock and shifting with each throbbing pulse of blood that clamored through him. 

Curious fingers flitted along the heavy, hot column of flesh, tapping it and listening to the thickening breath from the man watching you through ravenous eyes.  A smirk curved your mouth, and you peppered a light, whispered kiss to his slit, pushing his cockhead just so it met your teeth, and leading your lips away so the teasing burned through him.  You pulled a hand away from his leg and sat back on your calves, taking a breast into it and kneading as he had before, plucking your nipple through each space between your fingers. 

“A teasing little whore tonight,” he purred, voice thick.

You hummed, pleased you were getting to him.  “I’m your little nurse, remember?” The tip of your tongue teased circles into his frenulum.  “And you are my master.  Isn’t that right? Master Ren?” Fuck, the title even got to you, cunt fluttering with the hope to be overflowing with him.

“Good girl, teasing whore, nasty slut? Little nurse? You have so many names now.”

“And all of them belong to you.”

You teased his tip and finally laved a flat tongue on the underside of his shaft, flicking it side to side and gripping into his structured, rippling thighs.  Something animal, completely primal, roared in his throat, and sooner than you knew, Kylo Ren had joined you on your knees, the weight of his cock slicking down your middle and slapping up to your slit when inertia bounced through it. 

A masterful tongue slipped into your mouth and licked your hard pallet, next dropping down and pushing against the side of your own tongue.  A muffled moan – one that you were unsure was his or yours or both – clouded through the shower’s downfall.  But then a throat-thick huff, aggressive and impatient, gnarled through the air and you were spun on your knees so your back was flush with his chest.

“Yes,” he rumbled, “they do all belong to me.” A possessive hand pushed you into him with might, taking residence in the valley of your breasts.  “Your names, your body.  Everything.” His hips canted, and the tip of his cock knocked against your clit, fire billowing in your belly, quicker and deeper now. 

“Everything,” you echoed, finding his free hand and guiding it so it lay over the permanence etched into your thigh.  “I’m- everything.  It’s yours.  I am yours.”

Unrelenting digits bruised more marks around the one he’d made prior, and when you felt his cock fall in line with your entrance, you thrust into him as he did the same, and you took all of him, at once, in one, fluid, aching motion.  An unabashed cry echoed euphoria throughout the moonlit stall.  Before you could fully recover from the first thrust, his hand – the free hand that didn’t remain under your own, clutched to your thigh – dipped into your folds and that blooming fire from earlier mushroomed at the graze of his thick digits against the buzzing nerves. 

Thrust after thrust after thrust, fucking into you and filling you to the brim and then some each time, knocking the air from your lungs and burgeoning those sweet spots within with each paced, violent pass.  All of that pressure combined with the winding circles and strokes he racked your clit with, you felt the breath of climax rise first in your chest, and then upward into your throat. 

Kylo was panting by your ear, sucking the skin behind, clutching you to him so it became uncertain where his body ended and yours began.  You hooked your arm above your head and clutched at his drenched tresses, flailing for a better grip and settling on clasping your hand onto the back of his neck.

“I feel you,” he groaned.

“Feel me,” you huffed.

“I know you.”

“know me.”

“You’re mine,” your name was laden with yearning claim, lilting from his tongue so it caressed your mind, body, and soul all in one fell swoop. 

“Yours,” you heaved, “all, yours.”

You came.  Simple.  Body swimming in the schemes his fingers and cock and tongue and voice forced into you until it became too much.  A few thrusts more and his pace faltered, cum spurting against your walls and dripping out of you as more and more left him.  Full lips pressed fleeting, lulling praise into your nape, your shoulder, until he angled your head to his and branded his lips to yours. 

Spent, emotionally and physically, you fell into him and enjoyed the image of his legs framing your own.  But then your eyes lolled shut and you simply breathed, settling into this moment as best you could, and tried to memorize the tide of his chest slicking against your back.

Barely aware in the vague, misty stall, you only realized that Kylo had begun cleaning you when he guided you back to your feet to rinse you free of soap.  Even then you just leaned into his chest and let the jets spray silken streams down your skin.  And then you were wrapped in a heated towel and cradled in his arms, leaving the steamy refresher and coming into the gentle atmosphere within the golden gossamer canopy.

With less than a word, maybe a breath, the light from above waned to nothingness, and the room was black save for the glinting eyes that studied your own.  The towel discarded to the floor, you now lay beneath the thick comforter and linen sheets of Kylo Ren’s bed.  Both naked, you huddled together in the center of the expansive mattress, legs wrapped together in an impossible knot, each breathing in the other’s warmth. 

Ease trickled into your muscles, and you shifted so your forehead could rest in the heat of his chest.  

“What changed? From the other night?” you yawned.  “What convinced you? About Snoke.”

He was tired, too, you knew, the hand tucking you into him tracing lazy, distracting circles into your back to keep him from sleep.  “Perspective, really.  Seeing things clearly for the first time in… Seeing things clearly.”

For now, fatigue caressing you, that was an answer you could accept.  He’d given you more of his mind tonight than ever before, and you did not care to mar that fact with a half-wit interrogation.  Perhaps you would listen to him this time, given how little you potentially had left, and do as he’d said this morning.

Trust me first.

It was sound advice, and not worth questioning on the eve of your first shift on Canto Bight.  So you nuzzled into him and giggled when the tip of your nose nudged that black healing ribbon over his collar bone.

“I like your scars,” you hummed.

You could not be certain, sleep plunging you into its riptide, but just before it pulled you under, you swore you heard the fatigued rumble of Kylo Ren’s voice whisper, “I like yours too.”

[hansols-yoda-boxers]

In Bloom - Part 1

Plant Monster!Yunho x Female Reader

Word Count: 4074

Contents: virgin!Yunho, sex dreams, accidental voyeurism, fingering, hand job, marking, vines

Notes: @lustjoong I finally finished part 2 so I can post part 1! I hope people like it and I know you’ve been excited for it bb.

Prequel | Introduction | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

What Yunho’s Flowers Look Like

“Yunho!” you called as you made your way into the greenhouse, shaking out your umbrella. Most of this week had been dreary but today had thunderstormed. Despite that you had told him you would visit today. For the last few weeks you’d been dropping by every few days to spend time with him and he was slowly opening up to you. He was still a little on the shy and awkward side but he was also goofy and sweet and he seemed happy to have a friend dropping by and that warmed your heart.

A frown tugged the corners of your lips downwards as you listened deeper into the greenhouse. Usually, Yunho responded to you but you hadn’t heard his voice. You knew he wasn’t in the window either. It wasn’t as if he had left, even if you were worried about that his vines were still all over the glass ceiling.

But this was odd. You hoped he wasn’t hurt. What would even happen if he did get hurt? From what he had said there were a few people who knew about him but you didn’t even know if he had a good way to contact them. Somehow you hadn’t asked about him having a phone but you hadn’t seen him carrying one yet so maybe he didn’t have one?

You left your sopping rain jacket and umbrella by the door, unsure if it was safe to take off your damp shoes but figuring it wasn’t the best idea. You called out for Yunho again as you pushed through the leaves and thick foliage in the greenhouse. He had to be somewhere and you figured if you searched for him in his favourite spots you would find him.

The closer you got to the pond the more you were sure you heard hurried whispers. Was someone else here? Yunho said the gardeners usually left by the time you got out of work so you had never run into them. Maybe they were still here for some reason? Someone was definitely talking and as you called out to Yunho again the voices grew quieter.

You pushed past the last few branches to find Yunho crouching next to the pond. His eyes were on you with a nervous look in them and the water below was rippling. You could see the small vines wrapping more tightly around his body as he chewed on his bottom lip.

“There you are!” you exclaimed. “I was calling for you, didn’t you hear me?”

“N-No?” he didn’t sound all that convinced but you let it slide.

“That’s alright, I must have been too quiet,” you hummed, jumping across the stepping stones and gazing down into the depths of the pond. Yunho caught you on the other side, quickly wrapping an arm around you and ushering you through the plants.

“H-How have you been?” his voice was still nervous.

You glanced up at him. “I’ve been fine but how are you? You look a little tired.”

“I’m fine,” he said quietly. “It’s been really rainy and I like the sunlight more. It gives me more energy. I’m just hungry.”

“Hungry?”

“Yeah,” he said as he led you into a clearing and sat on a log. “Sunlight makes me less hungry.”

You started at him blankly as you processed his words and he started to squirm under your gaze, worrying he might have said something wrong.

“Like… photosynthesis?”

“Y-Yeah,” he tugged at his sweater awkwardly.

You sat next to him slowly. “Wild.”

“I-Is that good o-or?”

“It’s really interesting,” you said reassuringly. “I just hadn’t thought about it but that makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Yunho’s word turned into a yawn and you chuckled.

“Yunho if you just want to sleep today-”

“No,” he whined, wrapping his arms and a few small vines around your waist. “I wanna spend time with you.”

You sighed. “Alright, then what do you want to do?”

He thought for a moment. “We can take a walk, it’ll wake me up.”

You gave him a soft smile as he let go of you and you got to your feet, him following suit. You let him lead you through the plant life of the greenhouse. You noticed that his flowers were closed from the rainy day and he seemed very drowsy. As you headed into the darker parts of the greenhouse your hand found his.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, the walk clearly not waking him up.

“Yeah,” you hummed. “I just can’t see too well, it’s dark in here.”

You glanced at him as he nodded, just barely making out the pink on his cheeks that matched the light pink of his flowers.

“It gets really dark in here at night.”

“Do you not have lights?” you asked. You didn’t think he would be able to see in the dark.

“Only in one place.”

You gazed at him curiously. “Where?”

“I-It- uh- just this- d-do you wanna see?”

You giggled at how flustered he was, unsure why the supposed location was throwing him off so much. Then again he got flustered very easily.

“Sure, take me to the light,” you chuckled.

You caught the small, nervous smile on Yunho’s face as he led you through the greenhouse towards what you assumed was an area near the center. You realized as you walked that there were areas that you had yet to explore. Even as it got darker you tried your hardest to make out your surroundings. You could hear water nearby and make out the form of something round and squat up ahead.

“What is that?” you asked, more to yourself than him.

“It’s a tree,” he said. “Or it was but it’s hollow inside. It’s, uh, where I sleep.”

“Cool,” you breathed, watching as it loomed closer. Your eyes caught the outline of what looked like a stream or small river running around the side of the tree. Yunho led you up to the entrance, pulling back a curtain of vines and letting you step into the dark space. You gazed around, unable to see much in the dark as he let go of your hand and made his way around the room.

Suddenly, light illuminated the space. The warm glow of the lanterns he had lit sent an array of golden yellow and orange over the greens of the space. There were small flowers in pinks, yellows, and oranges lining the walls and hanging from above. Soft moss lined the ground beneath you and grew up the walls. A hammock woven from vines hung along one side of the room and tall grass filled another corner. A small pond, you presumed part of the river, came under one section of the wall and you noticed the water rippling. A larger, darker looking vine was dipped into the water.

Your gaze trailed over the room until it landed back on Yunho again. He was pulling at his sweater sleeves again and nervously shifting from one foot to the other.

“This is so cool,” you breathed, seeing the relief wash over his face.

“I-I’m glad you think so,” he stuttered.

You plopped yourself down in the soft grass, smiling at him. “I didn’t even know this tree was here but this really is amazing.”

Yunho sat next to you, unable to wipe the smile from his face. “It’s comfy. And it’s all I really need.” He yawned again. “I’m sorry I’m so tired.”

“You can nap, you know,” you said.

A frown turned the corners of his lips. “But you’re here, that would be rude.”

You shook your head. “I’m in no hurry, and maybe I’ll take a nap too. I don’t mind.”

Yunho gave you a small smile and leaned back against the wall, trying to get comfy. You watched as he squirmed and shifted and you chuckled softly to yourself.

“You can lean against me if you want,” you said.

You watched as pink stained his cheeks and he rested his head against your shoulder. As he put more of his weight against you you struggled to keep yourself upright and guided his head to your lap instead. Yunho gave you a shocked expression but you just hushed him, running your fingers through his hair.

“Just sleep,” you hummed.

He gave you one last flustered look before closing his eyes, admittedly loving the comforting position. You gazed down as him softly, watching him drift off to sleep before the sound of distant music caught your attention.

Your eyes shifted, gazing towards the small pond at the edge of the pool. You felt your eyelids getting heavy, though you didn’t feel tired. You caught the way the water rippled slowly, the lantern light glinting off the water mesmerizingly as the sound of a reed flute filled your ears. 

Your fingers stilled in Yunho’s hair as the sound seemed to enchant you, holding you still. You were sure it was getting nearer very slowly. 

The rippling water seemed more disturbed.

Your breaths were deep and even as you gazed, entranced, at the water and how it moved. The sound seemed so close in your ears now, so soothing. Perhaps you should close your eyes too. Perhaps it would lull you off to sleep as well.

Something deep inside your hazy brain told you not to sleep, to fight against the instinct to close your eyes. You wanted so badly to give into the sweet melody, the rippling water, as if something was now just underneath the surface, right there, just out of reach.

A small mumble of your name pulled you from your reverie. Your gaze snapped down to Yunho, your hand still in his hair. You blinked a few times and gazed around, was it darker out now? Could you even tell from in here? How long had you been out of it?

You made a mental note never to explore this place without Yunho by your side.

Your name fell from Yunho’s lips again and you smiled down at him. He had to be dreaming and he spoke in his sleep. You had to admit you thought it was incredibly cute that he was dreaming about you and saying your name.

A moan left his lips as his hips shifted.

Or not.

You felt heat flood to your face as you processed what was happening. Your eyes took in Yunho’s flushed face, the way his vines curled and tightened around his body as small pants and moans started to leave his mouth. Your name came from his lips again, this time undeniably a moan. Your fingers stilled in his hair again as your eyes slipped down to follow the movements of his hips.

And your cheeks burned as you noticed the unmistakable bulge in his pants.

You felt your heart racing. You had no clue what to do about this. Part of you had wondered if his body was human except the vines and it seemed as if some parts certainly were. But you weren’t sure if you should do something. Maybe he would sleep long enough to cum in his sleep but you couldn’t count on that. If you woke him up you knew he would be embarrassed about it. But did you just want to sit here and wait?

Your body tensed up as you felt a vine wrap around your leg as his hand grabbed at your sweater. Apparently his vines could also move in his sleep. Your gaze stayed on his body and the way he gripped you. It was firm but it didn’t hurt. You couldn’t slip away though, that was for sure. Yunho whimpered out your name and your face burned as you became slowly aware of yet another problem.

The way his moans had heat pooling between your legs.

You bit down on your lip and shifted ever slightly. There was no way for you to rub your thighs together or get any relief at all, you were just going to be worked up until you got home. You certainly hadn’t expected to think about him this way but his flushed face, the movement of his hips, and his cute little moans were turning you on and had thoughts swirling around in your mind that you couldn’t get rid of.

And the longer they went on you didn’t want to.

Was this bad? What was the right thing to do? To wake him up and find a way to deal with it? To let him sleep and hope it went away as he slept? What if he came in his sleep? The thought made you dizzy, the idea of watching him cum. Even now his moans were getting a little louder, his vines a little tighter. You couldn’t help the way you squirmed, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight, your face burning.

Either way, you didn’t think you could handle watching him cum in his sleep, knowing it was to the idea of you.

��Y-Yunho,” your voice was shaky as you jostled his shoulder gently. He let out a whine and curled closer into your lap as he started to wake up. You called his name a little more loudly to bring him out of his slumber, still unsure what to say as you waited for him to open his eyes.

He let out small whines and groans until he shifted in your lap, and let his eyes flutter open to see you. Confusion coloured his expression as he took in the look on your face and slowly processed why you were here. You caught your lip between your teeth nervously as he gazed down his body and then back up at you hurriedly before sitting up and covering his lap with his hand, his cheeks burning red.

“I-It’s not- I-I can’t control- I w-was just dreaming-”

“You said my name.” you blurted out before you had the good sense to cover your mouth. His face was a mix of shock and embarrassment as he wrapped his own vines around himself and started to cover himself with the large leaves. You could see tears welling up in his eyes as he pulled his knees to his chest and started to curl in on himself.

“N-No it’s really fine,” you said quickly. “I-It’s normal, I mean l-lots of people…” Your voice trailed off as you realized that your words weren’t helping, only making you sound like a high school health teacher.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered weakly, almost completely surrounded by greenery.

“Yunho,” you said as steadily as you could, trying to ignore the burning need between your legs. “It’s really fine. I-I’m not mad. I mean it’s nice- Or- I’m flattered that you w-were- It’s not- I…”

You felt like you were digging a hole, his gaze growing curious as he regarded you. At least he had been asleep, what was your excuse? Here you were fantasizing about him as he slept in front of you, unable to tear your mind away from the idea.

“You’re not upset?” he asked.

“N-No,” your voice was going to give you away. “I mean it must have been a good dream because you sounded good so really I’m flattered I-I just-” You cut yourself off as you took in his wide eyes.

“Did I- a-are you-”

“Do you want-” You stopped yourself again before you said something dumb as you watched the wheels turn in his head. The red tint on his cheeks deepened even more but something shifted in his eyes as his mind put together what you were trying to say.

“A-Are you offering t-to…”

Were you? The two of you got along well and for some reason you were the one on his mind as he slept. And to get up now and go home would feel weird, not to mention how worked up you were from his moans and movements. You had no clue what this would turn into but at the moment your need was outweighing everything else.

“Y-Yeah, if you want.” Your voice gave away your nerves but Yunho didn’t seem to notice as he sat up properly. You weren’t sure if he could hear your heart pounded. Then again, maybe his was doing the same. He shifted closer to you slowly, his gaze drifting down to your lips. He hesitated, his eyes flickering up to meet yours briefly and anxiety and excitement clouding them.

You closed the distance before you lost your nerve, letting your eyes fall closed as you pressed your lips to his. Yunho let out a small squeal that made you giggle before he started to relax, pressing closer to you, his hands in the soft moss on either side of you. You let yours travel up his chest as his kisses grew deeper, slowly winding around his neck and pulling him closer to you.

It didn’t take any longer for him to react. His hands found the small of your back and started to pull you closer. You let your fingers start to tangle into his hair as you felt his tongue swipe along your bottom lip, letting it into your mouth with a quiet moan. You shifted as he pulled you onto his lap, your legs straddling his hips. You felt heat flood to your face and rush down your spine as you felt how hard he was underneath you. You shifted your hips, grinding down on him lightly to give some much needed friction to your core.

Yunho groaned against your lips as vines curled and wrapped around your body quickly. His hands fell to your hips, guiding your movements on his lap and drawing gasps and moans from his lips. The friction against your clothed core sent sparks through your body and his vines tightened around you, pulling you until you were flush against him.

“Real you kisses better than dream you,” he mumbled against your lips. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you at his words and he pulled back, his face red.

“W-Was that dumb?” he asked anxiously.

You shook your head, pulling him back in. “It’s cute,” you assured him. Your lips found his again and he relaxed into your touch again, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt to hold your waist. You let one hand travel up to tangle into his hair, holding him close as you ground down on his lap. The fingertips of your other hand trailed lazily along a vine coming from him.

Yunho shuddered, letting out a whiny moan, his fingers digging into your sides. You pulled back again to look at him, shifting back a little on his lap to see him properly. He looked embarrassed and his gaze shifted away from your eyes.

“Does it still tickle?” you asked.

“I-I- it- u-uh not- not when I’m- um- like this.”

“Oh… oh,” you felt heat rising in your own cheeks as well as his words sunk in. “But don’t they all get, uh, sensitive?”

“I-I-I can feel them a-all now but I- I don’t really- I mean I don’t ever- usually…”

“O-Oh,” you fully absorbed what he was saying. You guessed it made sense that he wouldn’t have experience living here like he did. You could see his anxiety plastered across his face and you let your fingers massage his scalp.

“Do you- do you still want to…?”

“I-I wanna do something,” he said quickly. “I-I-”

“We’ll go slow,” you said quickly. “We don’t have to do a lot.”

He nodded, looking somewhat relieved as he leaned back in for another kiss. His lips found yours again, this time more confident, easily slipping his tongue past your lips and into your mouth. You let your hand come back over his shoulder and trail down his chest slowly, grinning into your kisses as his breath hitched.

Your touch was ever so slightly shaky as you found his cock, hard in his pants, and started palming him slowly. He let out a sweet, whiny gasp against your lips as his vines tightened around you even more. His hips moved underneath you, pressing into your hand in a silent beg for more.

You hesitated for a moment before your fingers found his button and zipper, undoing his pants slowly. He eagerly shimmied them down his hips along with his boxers, though you could feel the heat on his skin. You let your lips trail along his jaw and down to his neck as you wrapped your hand around his cock.

Yunho let out a gasp and a flower close to you along the vine burst open. You giggled against his skin as he let his head fall back, more heat under your lips.

“At least I know you’re feeling good,” you chuckled.

“D-Don’t make fun o-of me,” he whined breathily. You smiled against his skin before sucking gently on a spot along his neck, your hand moving slowly on his cock. Beautiful whimpers and moans fell from his lips as his hips pressed and jolted up to meet your hand and you barely noticed one of his hands moving away from your waist.

You did, however, feel his fingers pushing shakily into your pants and panties. You gasped as they brushed past your clit, your grip tightening around his cock. You pumped him faster and ground against his fingers as his head rested back against the walls and moans fell from his lips.

You teased his tip with your fingers before moving your hand faster, feeling him buck up beneath you. His moans grew whiny as you sucked hickies into his skin and stroked his cock quickly, his fingers digging into you and his vines tightening almost painfully as his hips bucked up.

He let out a cry as he released, his cum dripping down his cock and over your fingers. He bucked his hips up as you worked him through his orgasm until he was shaky, panting as his vines loosened their grip on you.

You rested against him as he came down from his high, his voice quiet as and shaky as he spoke.

“You didn’t- Do you want-”

“You don’t have to,” you hummed against him. “If you’re tired.”

He rested his cheek against your head. “I want to, j-just tell me what to do.”

“Keep moving your fingers,” you hummed. He started to move his fingers in clumsy circles and you let out a shaky sigh as you ground against them. “Right there.”

He did just as you told him. His fingers were a little unsure but they still sent sparks shooting through you, igniting the fire in your core. He fell into a rhythm as you let out small moans against his neck, moving your hips in time with his fingers and quickly needing more in your sensitive state.

“Can you go lower,” you breathed. “Can you-”

“Yeah,” his voice was as breathy as yours, and very excited as his fingers slid through your folds. He found your entrance, teasing with one finger before pushing it in slowly and drawing a moan from your lips. You told him just how to curl his finger until you felt pleasure rushing through you.

You rolled your hips into his finger as your pleasure built up quickly. Your thighs trembled and your breath came quickly as you moaned against his neck, hiding your face almost shyly as he moved his finger more confidently and pressed the heel of his hand against your clit. You felt heat coursing through you and the coil inside of you tightening as “right theres” and “just like thats” fell from your lips. Your hips moved with his fingers and his skin felt hot against yours.

His vines wrapped around you again, though less feverishly and more protective as you gasped and moaned. The action made your heart skip and you gripped him tightly, pressing yourself closer. You felt him press a kiss to the top of your head.

You moaned out his name as you came, clenching around his finger. Your legs shook as pleasure washed over your body, filling you with bliss and his breaths came shakily as he took in your reaction.

“That was so hot,” he murmured as you came down from your high, gently pulling his finger from your core. “Can we- do you want to-”

“Do this more often?” You hummed, cuddling into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. “Definitely.”