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lo1k-diamonds · 6 months

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SX Seoul Series | Jimin Entry 💜 Like Crazy

GIF by cordiallyfuturedwight

PAIRING: Jimin x Reader (You can also read it on AO3)

SUMMARY: You let your desires run wild and things got too far while figuring out the choreography for Jimin's next single. You thought it was best to pretend it never happened, but he decided to chase you, hoping to set things right.

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

GENRE: strangers to lovers, smut, soft but filthy (?)

RATING: R (explicit)

WARNINGS: pwp (porn w/ plot really), mentions of drinking, misunderstandings, unprotected sex (wrap it up), semi-public sex, Jimin loses control and I find that endearing, light sub/dom with the reader being the dom, oral (f), hand job, edging, playing with cum, squirting, riding, breast worship & play, multiple orgasms, praise kink

A.N. 2024 started with the thoughts that inspired this fic, and writing it, I don't know. Jimin matched this energy perfectly, I can't explain it. Hopefully, you'll agree 💜

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Jimin went quickly up the stairs while lowering his head under the drizzle. He ignored the people near the railing lining up, only glancing to confirm the presence of the lighted ice-blue stripes on the wall: SX.

He raised his head in time to face the bouncer, who recognized him and let him in immediately, but only relaxed fully once he was in the club’s lobby. There he shook the traces of rain off his black leather jacket before running his hands a couple of times through his hair, smoothing and rippling the dark strands simultaneously.

People laughing and chatting went around him to enter the club proper and he glanced but kept his head low. He knew the club’s owner and knew he tried to keep that club room on the exclusive side — to the entertainment industry — but to Jimin, that was a double-edged sword. On one side, that meant he was sure to find you there, on the other he risked being recognized by what were essentially colleagues and friends.

He released a breath to soothe himself and brushed his hair one last time before going in. Not that it mattered, he concluded, as the flashing lights and loud music made his eyes blink and bones vibrate. He was free to go to a club whenever he wanted, regardless of who spotted him. What mattered was to find you.

His first searches in between the crowd were unsuccessful, so he neared the bar and asked for a drink. As he waited, he instantly turned to try his luck again only for the owner himself to recognize him and chat him up.

Jimin was polite, talking easily about how busy he was working on his solo work that would be out soon.

“The vibe kind of reminds me of this place,” he offered with a smile, taking the martini to his lips after swirling the twist of lemon peel inside.

The conversation didn’t last long and when the owner had to give his attention elsewhere, Jimin was finally free to let his thoughts overrun him. He needed to find you, and fast.

He knew you’d be there, he heard you scheduling it with the other dancers earlier. Earlier—

He almost choked thinking about it, the lights making him dizzy for a moment as he put the glass down on the bar counter.

What was he doing? Chasing you like that? Maybe he was crazy. What would that accomplish? What if you would just mock him? For—

Oh shit, his stomach twisted. What if you had already told everyone?

Damn it, he shouldn’t have let it play out like that. But he was genuinely powerless then, so out of it he only remembered being relaxed and molded to the hardwood floor beneath him.

“Good job,” you had told him in a velvety tone, lips hovering above his just after a sensual quiet laugh had snapped him away from his shock.

Were you mocking him then? No, he didn’t think so. But he was getting out of a high, so could he trust his judgment? And in a second you were no longer straddling him, but gone. He had sat up as quickly as he could only to see the door closing behind you, blocking him from calling your name. And then he glanced down at his crotch only to be confronted with—

He snapped his head back; that red smudge at the corner of his eye, was that you?! He was turning to the dance floor with his drink to drown his sorrows when he thought he saw you entering the room, and he was right! You were with friends, laughing and having fun, and his guts instantly twisted like he had to barf.

But he took deep breaths and calmed down. He knew you — you weren’t like that. He had to trust that. He glanced at you again, at your genuine smile, and wondered what your eyes would tell him if he faced you. Were you proud? Amused? Indifferent?

He forced himself to face the bar and drank the rest of the martini in one go before facing himself in the mirror behind the displayed bottles. This was his life, he was in control of it. He was there for a reason and he was going to do it.

He went straight for you, something similar to a tunnel narrowing his vision. His heart was racing deafeningly inside his chest, to the point he wondered where the music had gone, and then he touched your shoulder.

You turned around and your eyes widened right before you chucked and he thought his heart stopped.

“I thought you had enough dancing for today,” you asked cheekily after a small bow of your head, impermeable to his paleness and breathlessness.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

His voice was quiet and you had the distinct impression he was hiding, which instantly set your nerves on high alert. “Of course. What is it?”

He hesitated, and at that instant, you knew everything was fucked. “It’s… it’s private. I’d prefer it if we go somewhere quiet.”

Your stomach fell to the floor, but you still nodded. What else could you do? He was still the artist hiring you.

He waved at you to follow him and you did, instantly chastising yourself for being nonchalant about everything. But what else could you do? Jimin was a fucking star, you doubted any of it mattered. He’d play it cool and—

He stopped by the bar to speak to a bald guy you had the impression was the bar owner, but you didn’t listen. Jimin wanted to talk in private, and after what had happened, you could only think of one thing he wanted to say.

Of course, he would fire you. He was so keen on doing it, that once he spotted you, he couldn’t let it go or wait for Monday. And of course he wouldn’t, you should have known. You had totally lost face after going overboard like that.

The bald guy spoke with another bartender before waving at Jimin to follow him, to which Jimin glanced at you before going after him. There was a door in the mirror wall beside the bar and it led to a corridor. The house music was halved there already but you didn’t pay attention to the owner’s indications; you only followed Jimin, even after the bar door closed behind you.

It wasn’t that Jimin had to play it cool or that you expected him to because he was a star, you argued in your thoughts. Not even because you thought that happened to him all the time or anything like that, just—

You heaved a deep breath, settling things with yourself — it was just tension. Tension was meaningless to someone like him, that was all. That was what you thought, and that wasn’t a crime. The arguable crime was what you did before.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, you concluded, following after Jimin in silence. But who were you kidding, you absolutely should not have. You would soon have a brilliant ten-year career as a dance coordinator. Risking it in the spur of the moment was possibly the dumbest shit you had ever done. The problem was that it never felt like you were risking anything.

You were experimenting with the choreography. During the second verse of the song, a parallelism should occur where a female dancer and Jimin should mirror each other. After a full day of going over the chorus choreography with him alone, as the choreographer, it was your job to come up with ideas but he effortlessly suggested working on them with you. Jimin was always like that, wanting to be involved in his choreos, and you didn’t mind it at all. Granted you were both exhausted, and you’d admit he was…

You glanced at him. He always made you flutter in various ways, and dancing with him or watching him dance was no different. But you could stay professional; you had worked together before, and there was never an issue.

But today you were experimenting with potential dance moves for that verse and you suggested lying down. He was curious about it and asked you to explain, and you told him, “Like a worm dance move, but one over the other. Let me show you, lay down.”

He lay on the dance room floor and you placed yourself with your sneakers next to his hips. Once he gave you the go-ahead, you bent forward with your hands ready to catch you on either side of his head and let your body fall over him, curving from your chest to your stomach, hips, and knees before your feet touched the ground, and you got up. You couldn’t forget his expression as you did it: his cheeks gained color, his parted lips revealed his surprise, and as your face hovered over him, his glistening stunned eyes were on you before lowering to what you hoped was a good view, aka, your cleavage.

“What do you think?” You had asked.

“Again,” was all he had said.

So you did it many times more, trying to connect from the previous step in the choreography and then trying to figure out where to go from there — if you should get up on your feet or just stay on your knees or maybe something else.

“Then we can find a way of… getting you up again,” you were winded as you quite simply stayed seated on him. You wouldn’t have normally but you were exhausted, so you didn’t move, with your core dangerously close to his. So close that you instantly thought, Not that we need to, you’re already up.

And the thought should have scared you, but as you both recovered your breaths, you just stayed put, facing each other. His gray sweatpants left nothing to the imagination from where you were sitting and your leggings only helped. It was thoughtless of you to move an inch only to feel him a bit better, and you were startled into freezing when his dark eyes snapped open. Yet he said nothing, did nothing but look at you, the both of you sweating and still panting. Until his hands brushed your hips and the scales tipped. He squeezed ever so slightly, and you let yourself fall.

Jimin opened the last door at the end of the halfway and you followed him inside. When he closed the door behind you, the music became barely audible and you could hear yourself think. And panic. And make the right choice like the professional you were.

“I understand,” you started, turning to him once you reached the desk on the opposite side of the room. You were in an office, and as small as it was, at least you had distance between you. “You don’t have to worry about it. I’ll give my resignation letter tomorrow.”

“What?” He gaped, blinking his normally sweet eyes, “Why?”

Your eyebrows twitched, “What do you mean, why? For—” Your breath got caught up in your throat and you suddenly were at a loss. How could you say it? You sucked in a breath, “For acting inappropriately.”

His eyebrows pinched ever so slightly and you thought that speaking ahead could at least save your career.

“I’m sorry if I harmed you somehow. That was not my intention. I— I got carried away.”

You wondered if you misstepped by admitting that much, but instantly your eyes dropped to his lips and the memory flooded you. They were incredibly soft, as was his tongue, playful in a delicious kiss that had you forgetting everything aside from how hard he was beneath you.

You forced yourself to look down and bow respectfully, “Please don’t worry about—”

“You didn’t finish.”

You raised your head, “What?”

“You didn’t finish.”

You straightened back up and blinked. You gave it time, but you had nothing. What was he talking about?

Oh, right.

“The choreography? You have a lot of it already,” you smiled pacifyingly. “I’m certain you can get someone to fill in the gaps.”

“No,” he stepped forward. “You.”

You blinked, drawing a blank again. “Me? I don’t understand.”

“You—” He hesitated for only a second, “You didn’t come.”

Your eyebrows jumped in surprise, but then you pursed your lips, “So?”

“So,” he took a step forward. “You left before I could do something about it.”

You could almost hear the click as you thought you had caught on to him, “You mean you want to finish what we started? Not fire me?”

His expression only softened as he nodded, and yet for you, it was even more confusing.

“Really?” You asked, blinking in surprise.

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“No!” You almost shouted as he tilted his head, so you reeled it back in quickly, “No, definitely not, I just—” He stayed quiet as you struggled for words until you just sighed, saying the first thing that came to mind, “I just didn’t think you’d want that.”

“Why not?”

The way he rolled his shoulders reminded you of the tension building between you. You were sort of blind to it before, as you had been worried about your future for a moment there, but now you could feel it lacing around your neck again. He was right there like a pretty picture, just waiting for you to answer or do something, leaving you space to decide whatever, and yet you were still wary of making the wrong decision.

“Because… That’s not very professional,” you settle with, deciding to still be cautious about it.

But he just chuckled, “I think we’re past worrying about that. Or not?”

Your mouth moved without filter, “If you want us to be, then we are.”

His smile potentially rewired your brain. Even as he looked down and seemed to consider something, all you could do was wonder if this was real. Jimin was really telling you not to worry about being professional because he wanted to finish what you started at the dance studio and holy shit, you were getting hot.

“I…” He started, and you attuned instantly. “I’d like it if we kept it between us.”

“Deal.”

He could see you relaxing in a way, and now he was certain that your posture had changed. Just like before at the dance studio, your shoulders were straight, your posture intent, ready to move. He didn’t have to hide his eyes tracing your curves because you were doing the same to him. And it burned. Usually, he preferred to have clothes on; he was never the most confident about his body. But with you, it felt different. Perhaps because of before but… With you, the clothes were in the way.

He took a deep breath and pulled on the collar of his leather jacket as it was gluing to his skin, “I’m not sure what this means but…” He looked back at you with darkening eyes. “I don’t want to think right now.”

You instantly nodded in agreement, then shook your head the next second, “Yes, no thinking. I just want to know one thing,” you started, mind falling deeper into that rabbit hole. He nodded. “How did you plan on finishing me off?”

Your heart was drumming fast, but that was it. His lips parted in a bit of shock, but you didn’t take it back. He could back out, but if he wanted it, then you were in and this was what it meant. You wanted to know how he planned on continuing this partially because you wanted to know if you were on the same page, but also to know—

“Eating,” he breathed, and your eyebrows jumped. He must have noticed your eagerness because he licked his lips as a hand ran through his hair, “Eating you out. Burying my face in—”

His breath caught and you couldn’t help yourself; you shook your head almost anxiously, “Say it. Come on, please,” you were asking and it was enticing. “Say it for me.”

His reaction was to rub his face in embarrassment, “I can't believe I'm saying this to you.”

“Why?” You almost pouted, “I want to hear it.”

“Yes, but…” he didn’t seem to know how to face you or answer until he took a breath to renew his courage. “Talking… is hard. I should finish you first.”

He took a step forward but you raised your hands with a light frown, “Wait. Talking is important. This is not a race.”

“No, of course not. And yes, I’m not saying we shouldn’t talk, it’s just—” You had lowered your hands and his discomfort was abundantly clear, making you wonder what was going on. He heaved a deep breath before confessing, “I feel like I failed.”

For a second, you thought this was a terrible idea. If he wanted to be with you because of a semblance of hurt ego or pride, then you were not interested. But then… You knew Jimin, you had worked together before. He was a perfectionist but he wouldn’t come this far just for that.

So you allowed yourself to dig deeper, and stepped closer to him, “Because you came?”

“I couldn't control it. I tried,” he was apologetic and you closed the distance between you two.

“I saw it,” you acknowledged, then smiled. “You looked so cute trying, groaning a no even when your orgasm overcame you.”

He looked down and you saw that same embarrassment that now you were starting to gain a distaste for. Because that was nothing to be embarrassed about. Hell, you loved that you drove him that insane just by straddling and kissing him. Just thinking of the frenzy that had you dry-humping him and kissing him like he was the air you needed had your temperature rising. He had no way of knowing how close you had been nor how it filled you with pride when he twitched inside his pants and groaned into your kiss. At that moment, you had thought that playing with him would have been the best thing ever. Then you realized who you were doing that with and thought that leaving was the best course of action.

Well, you weren’t leaving this time.

You had a better idea. Your lips curved as you got your jacket off, knowing the deep cleavage on that red dress could convince him to look back up.

“Maybe you were too turned on,” you sighed after throwing the jacket over a nearby chair. You smirked at his eyes on you and casually adjusted the bra stripes, making your breasts bounce. “Wouldn’t blame you,” you shrugged, tone brazen as you relaxed. “It could be,” you continued, your hands forming a v down your stomach to your mound. “That this pussy is just magical.”

He couldn’t hold back his chuckle and you grinned, even as he shook his head with color on his cheeks.

“Isn't that why you thought of eating it?”

“I think it's your hips,” he voiced, endlessly more at ease. You could hear it and see it. “The way you move… the way you dance has always made me imagine, but today the way you moved to—” Your look was intense but you knew he could take it. “—to grind on me just—”

“Got you bursting despite your best efforts?” Your tone was almost condescending and to your surprise, he simply nodded.

“I'm sorry I couldn't wait for you.”

And that did it for you. “Don't be sorry, you're here now.” You passed by him and happily found a key on the door that you turned. You glanced at him but he only ever looked at you, never losing sight, so your lips curved, “I'd say this is way better.”

He didn’t oppose you in any way as you got around him to reach the desk again, only this time you sat on it. You spread your legs and his tongue peeked between his lips.

You smirked, “Come here.” He moved but his eyes were restless; indecisive on where to focus first. Right before he could reach you, you added, “Kiss me first.”

Still, as he got in between your legs, first he tentatively traced your legs up to your knees and hips with the back of his fingers. Gently but in awe, holding his breath to scout your reaction. You smiled at him and opened your arms and your welcome had him melting forward with his eyes set on your lips.

You closed the distance between you so your mouths could meet, squeezing your knees to his hips so he knew not to move away. While your arms wrapped around his neck relaxedly, you moved your lips at your tempo, knowing that he’d follow. You imposed a slow rhythm, mouths opening millimeter by millimeter to allow for your breaths to mix progressively, tastes to be shared patiently, and tongues to finally touch in sensual flicks that had him groaning mutely.

You were doing it again, he thought, needing to hold your waist and press himself closer to make sure you wouldn’t leave. Just like before, he trusted you without a thought and your kiss was enough to dazzle him, to make him want to follow the rails you set out for him if only because it was you. He wanted it all. If he sucked a deeper breath, it was to breathe you in. If he chased your tongue, it was because he wanted more of what you were giving. If he pressed your waist, it was because he needed to be grounded. Because he was already over the moon, sweating under those stupid layers of clothes, painfully hard and away from that magical pussy of yours, and lost. So lost if you wouldn’t show him the way.

He didn’t know if you realized it, but he trusted your guidance and you didn’t disappoint. You hugged him closer, pressing your chest to him and giving him space to join your cores. Even through his pants, you could feel his bulge, and you wanted it. You opened your eyes during your kiss and all that you could see was absolute relaxation and vulnerability on those sweet lines of his, so you took the next step.

First, you wrapped your legs around him, crossing them over his perky ass. Then you pressed him closer, right before stretching your legs, the movement making him go back, right before you pressed again to draw him close. It created a push-and-pull move that had him grazing against your center ever so slightly, making you flutter around nothing just at the suggestion. And you could tell he appreciated it, if only by the way he sighed and his lips became lax with the distraction. You gripped his hair by the back of his neck and he went with it, letting you split your mouths while your lower body dance continued.

His eyes opened a slit to face you and that view was fatal. He was a fucking gorgeous man, with his kiss-bruised lips and mute groans escaping them all while dark eyes invited you to have your way. And you would because at that point you wanted little more than to play with him all the way.

It was stronger than you; a moment of that view, of his bulge making your imagination fly, and you couldn’t stop yourself. In a matter of seconds, your free hand was forcing its way inside his pants, not even bothering to unbutton them, just squeezing in between and passing every layer of clothing until you gripped his hard cock.

He groaned with lips parting further, surprised with your boldness, but not dissatisfied with it. Quite on the contrary, judging by his precome on your hand. His fingers gripped your waist harder but he stayed exactly put, letting you squeeze the head tightly and jerk him as much as you could with the clothes’ constraints.

But you liked them on. Your tongue peeked between your lips as you took in that full image. Park Jimin still had his black leather jacket on but was covering your fist in precome, groaning with pleasure on an expression you didn’t guess he let many others see. No one would know how weak you left him even if they barged into the room right now, and you instantly knew no one else could do that to him. You could read it in his eyes — he was taken, he was yours, and he wanted you to have him. And if on any other day, you could have had fun just teasing and testing his limits, that would have to wait for now. Tonight you wanted to be with him.

So you let go of his hair and jumped a bit on your ass while you pulled the hem of your dress up the curve of your hips. His eyes didn’t miss anything, not your round hips being revealed and surely not your chest bouncing. Just by the way he looked at you, you knew he was your kind of guy, but not yet. You had that office at the back of a club, after all, you were not going to make it a quickie.

“Pull your clothes down.”

He blinked questioningly and you smiled and nodded. As he unbuttoned his pants and forced them and his underwear down his hips as best he could, you could only guess what all of that was doing to him. Your teases, your generous cleavage glistening under the office lights, your raised skirt suggesting what could come next, and finally, your request laced in a low lustful tone. His obedience was rewarded with wider movements of your fist up and down his shaft, which would have all your attention if his cheeks weren’t flushed. Fuck, you wanted to bring him to his knees crying with bliss, show him he was the key to heaven itself and you were the gatekeeper.

But not yet.

Your firm hand around his cock pulled him closer as you sat on the edge of the desk and spread your legs. He almost fell over you, supporting himself on the table to stay at bay only to waver on his knees. Your laced panties were red, just like your dress, and contrasted with his pink engorged tip.

“Look,” you called to him, eyes fixed on the view of his cock head rubbing on your clothed clit. “You have such a pretty cock.”

His groan was instant, bringing more fire to his cheeks if that was possible. You were looking at him now, seeing how tense he was, how he was gripping the desk on either side of you, how he was trying not to buck his hips to help you, but most importantly, how beneath the embarrassment and desire, he was proud. You grinned wickedly when you realized this, thoughts running wild as you licked your lips.

“Is it good?” You asked, wanting to make sure he wasn’t getting lost too soon.

And he nodded, trying to suck in a ragged breath, “I said I’d eat you.”

His hoarse voice had you sinking your teeth in your bottom lip, and after a moment of consideration, you let him go. Your hand was wet around your thumb and pointer where his precome had found purchase, and you brought it up. He had staggered with the loss of your hand, deciding to wait for your signal before getting on his knees to eat you, when he almost choked. Your tongue was out, savoring him off your hand slowly as your eyes stayed on him, and he felt a new wave of heat hit his back. He was melting, hanging on a breath and on your opinion because you were surely measuring up his taste before you gave your go-ahead.

Your lips twitched before you gave a last lick up your thumb, and he finally breathed. Yet he only unfroze when you leaned back on the desk and uttered what resembled a challenge, “Go on.”

His knees hit the floor at super speed, followed only by his starving eyes and his fingers looking to hook your panties. You only twitched your eyebrows when he glanced up in confirmation but then he was free to pull them down your legs. The wet spot on the outer side was obvious, it was his doing, but as the fabric passed your knees, the white and translucent arousal pooling on the inner side had him salivating.

You could see in his focused expression that he wasn’t taking things lightly, but you considered he might have been intimidated. You were wrong. His eyes were fixed on his goal and the first thing he did was bury his face right at your center, rubbing it in and taking a deep breath as if he had finally come home. It was enough to make you throb, but it was his hunger that did you in.

He was starving; the use of the word eating had not been lost on him. His mouth was everywhere in the beginning, followed by his tongue collecting all of your dripping wetness as if it was an oasis in a desert, and then he settled. He took a deep breath with a whiny groan that you doubted had been voluntary and focused on lapping at your sex, licking and licking in a certain rhythm that had you finally blushing and groaning at the ceiling.

In between your haze, you found yourself smirking. Of course, a dancing god would have a perfect tempo but it was almost unfair. You wanted to have fun and make him work for it, and instead, he was the one driving you crazy.

So much so you needed to grab his hair and when you did, you clenched, biting your bottom lip not only not to moan but also not to come. Unknowingly, he made it easier for you. Maybe he thought you needed a break and that was your way of asking because he gave you one, nuzzling your clit instead. Only that made you squirm and grip his head harder, pressing him to you for more pressure, and he got the gist. He gripped your hips in place, sticking his tongue inside you for a moment to collect your taste only to go back to licking you deliciously over your clit.

And you finally moaned and bucked your hips, the searing sensation so close to where he was going down on you, you could have come on his face.

But you held back. You pulled his head away by his hair and almost lost your nerve at his swollen lips and hungry eyes. Why did he look so fucking delicious? Was it because he was covered in you from nose to chin?

“Fuck, if I knew you ate pussy this good, I would have gone straight for your mouth instead of leaving.”

His tongue darted out to lick your taste from his lips as his fingers dug into your skin. He couldn’t think any further than the idea of ravishing you, especially now that you were not only giving him a chance but regretting leaving him too soon. “I can keep going and finally make it up to you.”

“No,” you decided quickly, sitting back up. “Not yet.” He furrowed his brow for a moment, unsure of what you were asking. “I’ve changed my mind, I want to feel you first.”

He didn’t move. The way you seemed to be holding back brought doubts to the forefront of his mind, which brought hesitation. He could do it, he showed you he could do it, so why would you stop him now?

“Look,” you asked sweetly as you leaned forward to cup his balls. He was standing again because you had pulled him up and he observed you with curiosity. “Still so full,” you cooed, rolling his balls on your hands gently. You saw his Adam’s apple bobbing and you grinned, “And with such a pretty hard cock.” You grabbed him with your other hand, jerking him swiftly and firmly over his tip, swaying him on his feet. “Where else? I want you inside me,” you sighed, looking down at the precome spurting out of him again. Fucking tease he was. “Want to see the face you’ll make when my walls squeeze the cum out of you.”

He blinked and licked his lips, knowing fully well you expected an answer but needing to scramble his mind for one, “Whatever you ask.”

You smiled mischievously and slowed your fist on him only to beckon him closer, “Kiss me.”

Your traces on his face were waning but you were quick to lap your tongue around his mouth messily, holding his chin in place so he wouldn’t escape you when you pushed your tongue inside him. Your excitement was taking the breaks out of you and it showed when you pumped his cock harder, not giving him a second to breathe. He had to fight or submit to your tongue as you pressed in, biting his lip whenever he tried to evade you, even if to moan your name. But the effects of that sound only made it worse.

Your legs laced around him and pressed him closer so you could guide the crown of his cock to your entrance, “So hard and thick.”

Your lewd voice dragged as you clenched around his girth and it tried to catch in you. His hands came to rest on your legs, eyes fixed on the view while his lower lip became trapped between his teeth. He was hanging on, desperate for the moment it would happen.

“You’ll stretch me so good,” you moaned at the thought, and his sole reply was a jerk of his hips. You licked your lips at the initiative and pressed your shins to his ass to get him swaying. “Gonna make me all wet and crazy for this cock,” you rasped as you saw, same as him, his cock trying to push into your closed fist to reach your sex. “Gonna fill me up with that sweet cum of yours. Aren’t you?”

You asked as you grinned, feeling the precome fill your hand again. Fuck, he was messy, and he had no idea how much you liked that.

“Shit,” his mumble was his only verbal response, meanwhile his hips gained momentum. He clearly enjoyed your incentive, your fist pulsing around his tip in a tease, threatening to catch him only to let him go back in an endless game that had him shaking.

You saw it, and you loved it and couldn’t not play with him. It was stronger than you. As he kept jolting, trying to ever reach inside you, you caressed his hip gently with your free hand, leaning closer to meet him halfway. Because he was bending forward, flushed and focused, breathing heavily as he rutted into your hand, so bent on getting inside you no matter what it took. He was facing you, reading your lips as you cooed him sweetly, fueling his hunger with yours and falling into your kiss.

You licked his lips in a tease, “Harder.”

And he did, following your lead as he grunted and tensed under your fingers now at his sweaty neck. You were entranced by him in ways hard to describe: his parted pouty lips, his breathtaking stare, and his cocked eyebrows telling you that he was rising to the challenge and giving you what you wanted. Your mouth opened too when his cock finally slid so well in your fist that the tip kissed your folds and you shuddered. His hands had sneaked up to your hips and gripped harder, committed to that last stretch to get to you, and you licked your lips.

And let go.

You opened your hand and he suddenly slid inside you, splitting you so harshly you screamed with the invasion, and so did he. He almost collided with your chest, dodging your face last second so you wouldn’t head bump, but his focus had shifted. Instantly he groaned, and you burned in bliss. You knew the way your walls were squeezing him was mind blowing, your throbbing to accommodate his girth helping you and him. He twitched and groaned into the crook of your neck and you knew he had lost control again.

Fuck, you just adored the way he breathed when he was high and coming down, it was perfect. Riveting, exhilarating, heavenly. All the things you knew he would be, and more.

He cursed into your shoulder and you grinned, making sure to tell him, “We’re not done.”

He straightened back to look at you and you smiled endearingly as you cupped his cheeks.

“You just stretched me,” you cooed. “Gonna let me ride you?”

He blinked, “Now?”

“Now, gorgeous,” you sighed with a smile, crossing your legs on his ass firmly before he had any ideas. It was hard not to enter a frenzy after so much foreplay, especially now that his come was threatening to drip out of you. “Said I’d empty you, and you’re not done yet.”

You reached to pull his leather jacket back and off him then pulled his shirt up without the slightest hesitation. Your nails grazed down his pale skin over his pecs, marking him as you felt the muscles leading to his thin waist.

Your fingers brushed his NEVERMIND tattoo, “You’re so fucking hot, no wonder.”

He pressed his palms to his eyes and you could guess he was letting the embarrassment back in, and you weren’t having it.

“Look at me,” you demanded firmly, and he lowered his hands to look at you in surprise. “I need to ride you,” you said and bucked your hips in case he had forgotten where he was still sheathed. “Take me and sit on that chair.”

He glanced at the chair next to him where you had thrown your jacket, and wrapped his arms around you to do as you requested. As he did, he wondered how he could break down to you that eventually, he’d get soft, but the thought never reached his mouth because you were kissing his head and pressing yourself to him. As soon as his ass hit the chair, your feet found the ground and you rolled your hips over him with a quiet moan that covered him in goosebumps. Right, he thought, tension stiffening him from head to toe. He was still hard inside you, you felt that good.

You could feel him stretching you, barely any of his come dripping down, and so you moved tentatively only to lose your mind soon after. “Fuck you’re so good,” you mewled into his ear as you hugged him and rocked over him. “Your cum got me sliding so well,” you sighed, and he dug his fingers into your waist. “Not just a pretty cock, huh?” You leaned back and smiled, letting him see how fucking crazy he made you. “But a good cock,” you moaned, never stopping your ride. “Made to keep me well stuffed and satisfied, hm?”

Pleasure was twisting his features and you doubted he would answer you.

You leaned forward, “Fuck, I need to empty you.” You were starting to hump him hard, not only searching for his cock to hit inside you but for a roughness over your clit. You gripped the hair at the back of his head and reached to ghost his lips, “Leave you spent and pretty.” Your hips gained traction and the way he was looking back at you, as if he knew how crazy he drove you, had you gripping harder. “Can I?”

He smiled, “Yeah.”

And it broke you. You took support on his shoulders and jumped once on his cock, making sure he was ready for you. He was.

“Get your pants off and away.”

“What?”

“Do it: out of your feet and kick them away,” you repeated, giving him the time to do it without getting off your throne. Once he sat back up, grabbing your hips comfortably, you rolled them again, “Your come is dripping.” You were gluing your chest to his and he was busy looking at it, wrapped in red. “We’re gonna make such a mess.”

You chuckled sensually and kissed his cheek all the way to his ear, biting on his earlobe as you got comfortable on his lap.

“Tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” You asked gently before licking his ear, “I can always ride your pretty mouth.” He was squirming when you tried licking him again, so you pulled back. “Good?”

He nodded, biting his lip as he eyed you, and you smirked. You leaned in to bite his pouty lip for just a languid moment before you pressed on your heels to slide up his shaft and then fall down. And again and again, easily letting the moans out of your lips now that you weren't holding back. His head fell back a little, eyes fixed on you as his chin dropped, and you took it upon yourself to make him sound pretty.

The slaps, the wetness, the tight vice you had him under; he couldn’t even think. How could you feel this good? His toes were curling, his nails sank into the fabric of your dress as he looked at your chest bouncing in front of his face. Fuck, you were gorgeous. He wanted to be with you and he had dreamed of your fucking him, sitting on his face and smothering him, but shit, he wasn't expecting that. He had come just before and still, you felt insanely good.

Your lips twitched into a mischievous smile, “Do you like it?”

“Oh, yeah,” he breathed, so fucked out you only tensed more.

“Good,” you chimed happily, kissing his mouth before leaning to nibble on his earlobe again. “Fuck, I wanna come hard on your cock, show you how good you make me feel.” He shuddered, holding you closer to him. Every word of yours was a moan, he believed you, but he wanted to hear you unfold. “Would you like that? Should we make a mess?”

“Definitely, yes.”

His lips brushed your neck near your hairline and you scratched his shoulders, jumping on his lap as much as your embrace allowed you to. You didn't need much, you had been holding on for so long and the way he pierced you inside was just perfect. It didn't take much to relent the control and your moan pitched, higher and harder with his poking inside, adding to the lewd sounds and the lascivious thought of his balls squashed beneath you as you jumped on him, and you popped.

Jimin was focused on your boobs bouncing nearly on his face when you squealed. He glanced up, avid to finally see you come, but in your scream, he felt wet.

He looked down as your moans subsided and touched his stomach down to where your sexes met. He was wet, like a glass of water had just been thrown there.

“Woah,” he breathed, bewildered.

“Is that okay?” You asked, winded.

“That’s fucking okay,” he rasped, at a loss for words. He had never seen that before and you didn't give him time to think about it.

Your hypnotizing hips kept going as you raised his chin to kiss him. “That’s how good you feel,” you moaned, out of breath. “That’s how hot you are. Fuck, that’s how much I wanted to ride your cock.”

You grabbed his head to kiss him deeply, pushing your tongue in again to lick and flick inside his mouth. Your head was spinning as you got lost, scratching up to his scalp to keep him in place for your pussy to swallow and ride him without a break.

Until you broke away with a whine, “I’m not done.”

“Keep going,” was his instant reply, glistening eyes boring into yours.

“Can you come with me?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “You feel really good but I’ve never done it like this before. I’ve no idea.”

Your lips curved with a hint of mischievousness as you brushed his sweaty hair out of his forehead to kiss him there, “I’d like to feel you coming again.”

“Me too,” he leaned into your touch with a sigh, kissing you back when you searched for his lips. “Pleasure yourself, I’ll follow.”

You smiled at his proposition, sliding up and down his shaft with ease. It felt good but you had to build your tension again and to know you had a green light to do as you pleased instantly sparked you. He really seemed to be your type.

You bit his pouty lip gently and dragged a hand of his from your waist to your ass. “Rub it for me.”

The dress had climbed to your waist and he took a moment to palm your round asscheek, feeling how it contracted with every swing of your hips. You were chasing a second orgasm and he groped you with a smile, happily thinking to himself it was a blessing he had come first. Now you could just use him without worries.

And he wanted to help you do it, so he slid his fingers closer to your rim. Your constant jumping got you the rub you asked for, and you squirmed, trying to get more without sacrificing his cock pounding inside you.

He was entranced, seeing your expression riddled with pleasure as he rubbed a bit harder, and soon you clenched hard. So hard he looked down expectantly, the way your body moved blowing his mind irreparably. He was yet to see your tits, but the way he wanted to eat them—

You pressed your lips to his almost anxiously, stopping your movements to stay on his lap and kiss him. He wondered why you had stopped, but your kiss stole his whole reasoning. You were reaching deep, touching corners of him he didn’t know were accessible so easily. But it was unfair to call what you were doing to him easy, it was definitely something only you could do. And in the midst of having his whole mind and body overrun by you, he wondered if he’d ever be able to forget you.

“I have one last request,” you smiled, still so close he nuzzled your skin as he thought that he'd give you whatever you asked for. “Eat my tits so I can come.”

His brain seriously glitched as he looked at you, your smile only furthering the downtime. The sway of your hips entranced him again as you slowly picked the rhythm back up with your eyes set on him. Your tongue peeked between your lips and the corners of your lips twitched slyly — it got you so high knowing that you could make him dazed like that. Everything about his expression and the way he looked down at your cleavage turned you on, and you were the happiest to make it even worse.

But as you tried to pull the dress straps down your shoulders to get more of your chest free, the fabric offered resistance. It distracted you from what mattered and Jimin didn’t like that. Quite the opposite; he liked that even if he glitched and forgot how to use his mouth other than to drool, you were still free to keep going, riding him to your heart’s content. But knowing you wanted his mouth on your breasts and that you were struggling enough that it was ruining your pleasure was unacceptable.

He didn’t think; he gripped the fabric by the deep cleavage and pulled the straps effortlessly over your shoulders along with your bra. Your breasts easily overflowed from your padless red bra and he was in awe. Your tits were moving lusciously along with your body straddling him and his thought process stopped again.

The way he looked at you upped your arousal another notch right before he buried his face in your boobs, pressing them to either side of his face. His thumbs instantly squeezed and rubbed your nipples and your hips bucked, pleasure shooting through you in a way that had you bouncing. And as you did, his come mixed with your slick, dripping down onto him and making you shudder from head to toe.

“Fuck,” you moaned, at the tip of the spear as you looked down at him trying to lick both boobs at the same time. He clearly liked their size, loving the way he could reach both as long as he grabbed them together. “You feel that?” He hummed right as his tongue darted out to lick you yet again. “Fuck,” you dragged, rolling your hips again with a hiccuped movement. “I want you to cover my walls white.”

“I will,” he pulled away to look at you with dark glistening eyes. “Don’t stop, I fucking will.”

He was twitching inside you, holding his orgasm at bay. He could do it better now that he had already come once and looking at you, he knew he wouldn’t fail you this time. It was a wonder to him how he was on edge so soon, but it didn’t matter. Because he was with you, giving you pleasure, touching you and eager to see and feel you unravel again.

Moreover, you actually asked him to do one of his favorite things in the world. He looked down at the precious gorgeous treasure in his hands and couldn’t help himself. He had to play with them, to squeeze, to lick them and bite them, and feel every time you squirmed. Every moan, every shudder, your fingers sinking in his hair to keep him there, and he stayed gladly. It had him twitching like crazy, hanging on a dangerous balance between too much stimulation and just barely enough until you screamed.

He meant to look down to see you coming this time, but as you pressed him to your chest so hard he could barely breathe, there was no way he’d oppose you. Also, he was in heaven, so he didn’t want to. You were squeezing him so well, gripping him so firmly while you squirted around him that it was bliss to finally let go. He breathed you in, perfume and feminine scent imbued together on your chest, right as he rutted into you.

Your orgasm was powerful, taking such a grip on you, that you didn’t realize you were screaming and possibly suffocating him until dozens of seconds later. By then, you could still feel him twitching inside you but what had you biting on your lip was the way he mumbled your name. His eyes were closed, he looked fucked out and exhausted after trying to reach deep inside you, and after being drained of his last drop, your name was the last word spilling out of his lips.

It made you want to hold him and never let go.

You nuzzled him and then reached to kiss his sweaty forehead. As you hugged him, you realized through your haze how much you trusted him. You knew you did it professionally, but now you felt like it was wholehearted. Being vulnerable and intimate was always a difficult choice for you, but this was nice. And good. And wholesome. You sighed.

But as you both recovered your breath and came to, you became aware of being all sticky, hot, and sweaty, and that as soon as you got up, it would get worse. You didn’t want to move, but reality would come knocking soon, and hopefully not literally.

You kissed his forehead again as if to wake him up, and he palmed your waist and lower back gently. That was when you felt confident enough to get up, immediately reaching for the Kleenex box on the desk to put tissues in between your legs right before passing him a few.

You cleaned yourself as best you could and rearranged your dress before turning to him to help him, but he was already clean and putting his clothes back on. You reached for your underwear with a mute sigh; you needed a shower badly.

You tried combing your hair with your fingers and froze when you saw him effortlessly putting every piece of clothing in place, his hair so beautiful it looked like it had just been styled. You were probably gaping because when you blinked, he was already smiling and brushing your hair gently over your chest as if he was enamored by it.

You didn’t know what to say. “I need a shower,” you smiled sheepishly as if to justify why you looked unruly right now and why your hair was being difficult. You felt immediately silly; why would Jimin care about your hair? He lowered his hand though, and you nodded, “I guess I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Wait,” he voiced when you were already grabbing your purse from the floor and turning to leave. He was running his fingers through his hair in a gesture seemingly detached, but you knew him better by now. He might have been nervous. “I want to invite you to mine but it would be a problem because of photographers and all that.”

“That’s okay.”

You spoke before you could think, but your cheeks still reacted in time. You knew he noticed your blushing but there was no teasing to be found in him, just something akin to a purpose. And it made you raise your eyebrows, reviewing what he had just said.

You licked your lips, “Would you like to come to mine?”

He instantly grinned and closed the distance between you, then cupped your cheeks, “Thought you’d never ask.”

All you saw was his endearing smile right before he kissed you.

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venus-haze · 9 months

Text

Pretty Tied Up (Otis Driftwood x Reader)

Summary: Or, the perils of working at Red Hot Pussy Liquors.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. This takes place between House of 1000 Corpses and The Devil’s Rejects. Based on the Guns N' Roses song. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Armed robbery and implied kidnapping. Sexually explicit content that involves extremely dubious consent and sadism, gags, bondage, groping, and gunplay. Otis is pretty much his own warning. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Having regulars at a liquor store was a double-edged sword. You got to know some customers well enough to like them, but over time you’d notice they looked increasingly worse for wear as they came up to the checkout with their usual purchases. The exception, of course, were the Fireflys, who you always found unsettling, despite Baby’s attempts to seem affable.

“My brother likes you,” she said one day, leaning against the counter as you rang up three bottles of vodka and two six-packs of beer.

“RJ?” you asked, glancing at her brother standing a few feet behind her.

RJ was always nice enough. Didn’t say much. Tall. Burly. Strong. Ruggedly handsome. You’d be open to going out with him.

She laughed in her usual high-pitch that always toed the line of being spine-chilling. “No silly! I’m talkin’ ‘bout Otis.”

You stared at her blankly. “Who’s Otis?”

“You know, long hair, blue eyes, scruffy ol’ beard. He came in here the other night. You must’ve made one hell of an impression. He won’t shut up about ya.”

Oh yeah. Him. Bought a bottle of whiskey and a stack of hardcore BDSM porno magazines. ‘You ever look at this stuff?’ he’d asked, eyeing you as you put a magazine with a nude, distressed-looking woman suspended by intricate ropes on the cover into a brown paper bag. When you first started working there, you could hardly stomach the sight of the rougher fare. As time went on, you found yourself hesitantly intrigued. ‘Gotta have something to do besides go to church on Sundays,’ you replied, earning a wicked grin from him.

“That’s nice,” you said.

She snickered. “My brother’s not nice.”

“Is this everything?” you asked, hoping to move the interaction along.

“Hey RJ, you gettin’ anything else?” Baby asked over her shoulder.

He shook his head, approaching to pick up the crate you put the bottles in.

Baby handed you a wad of cash. She almost always overpaid, letting you keep the change, which was most of the reason you humored her antics in the first place. “Thanks darlin’! See ya real soon!” she said, wiggling her eyebrows, keen to something you were yet to be aware of.

Two nights later you were working the store alone. Your coworker Billy didn’t even have the decency to call and let you know he wasn’t coming in–or quit. He just didn’t show up at 9:30 when he was supposed to, and your phone call to his house was met with a busy dial tone. Asshole.

It’d been a slow night anyway, but you would have appreciated the heads up, or at least another body in the place when the front door was kicked open.

“This is a robbery! Don’t fucking move or I’ll shoot!”

Despite the bandana covering the bottom half of his face, you knew who it was right away. Long, graying hair and piercing blue eyes that were burned into your memory from his last visit to the liquor store.

You lifted your hands in the air. Your manager had told you on your first day that there was always a possibility of this happening. Better to just let them take whatever cash and booze they wanted and report it to the police once they left. ‘Don’t go playin’ hero. We got insurance.’

“Keep those hands up,” Otis said, slowly approaching the counter. “I’m gonna walk back there, and you’re gonna open the register for me.”

You nodded, eyes glued to him as he slithered around the counter like a snake, gun steadily pointed at you.

“Go on,” he said.

With a trembling hand, you opened the register, the cash-filled drawer popping open for him. He pressed the gun to your temple, instructing you to put the cash in one of the brown paper bags by your side. You tried not to glance at him too much while you stuffed the paper bag with the money, finally pushing it toward him and sticking your hands up again.

“Alright, now turn around.”

“Wh-What?”

“I ain’t got all night.”

You glanced at the door. No way you could make a run for it, but maybe someone would walk in and be able to do something.

He followed your gaze and let out a cruel scoff. “Ain’t nobody coming through that door who can save you. I’m the closest thing to salvation you’ll ever get. Now turn the fuck around.”

With a shaky breath, you did as you were told, freezing when you felt the barrel of the gun press against the back of your head. His free hand grabbed your ass through your jeans, his strong grip almost painful as he squeezed each cheek. “Wonder how much it’d take to make you bruise?” he mumbled, almost to himself. He squeezed again, harder this time, as if he were trying to dig his fingers into your flesh. “Too much work when I can just cut into ya.”

“Don’t hurt me,” you pleaded, though hearing your own voice, you weren’t quite sure how convinced you were that you didn’t want him to do his worst. Knowing what you did about the Firefly clan, the rumblings around Ruggsville about the strange family–it would be pretty damn bad.

“C’mon now, mama. You led me to believe you liked it rough,” he said, voice gravelly and low as he slipped his hand between your legs from behind, rubbing the rough denim material and your cotton panties against your pussy, the friction hitting your clit in just the right spot for you to let out a shameful moan. Your hand flew to your mouth, the other clenched in a fist as you tried not to give him the reaction he wanted. Didn’t want to prove him right. Show him how curious you were. You didn’t even have it in you to fight back, not when you were on the edge, so achingly close until suddenly you weren’t anymore.

You nearly whined when he pulled his hand away, horrified at yourself, your reaction to his groping you. He grabbed each of your arms, roughly pulling them behind your back and tying your wrists together with something itchy and uncomfortable that dug painfully into your skin as you fruitlessly tried to free yourself from the secure knot he made. What the fuck did he use? Your eyes widened at the carpet burn-like sensation that’d begun to sting your skin. The roll of twine beneath the register. You used to secure some customers’ more sensitive purchases sometimes.

Fingers and cloth forced their way into your mouth until you were gagged with the bandana Otis had pulled off of his face. He turned you around, looking you over with a slow, satisfactory nod. “I was having trouble getting over this mental block in my art. Started drivin’ me crazy. Y’know, they showed this nature documentary about a group ‘a lions a while back. How they protect and provide for their families, stalk their prey and go in for the kill–do you ever think about how we’re the only species where killing is taboo? For the rest of the animal kingdom, it’s just nature, part of the circle of life. There was a scene where the lion saw a gazelle from way across the savannah, and it was like nothing else existed except for its prey. It couldn’t rest until it tore that damn thing apart. That’s how I felt when I saw you.”

You shook your head frantically, your pleas of mercy muffled by your gag. Fat tears blurred your vision until he morphed into something monstrous, straight out of a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.

“I ain’t gonna kill ya,” he said, roughly petting your head, “not yet anyway, that’d be a waste when I’ve barely even started.” He gave you a mean grin as he grabbed a hold of your hair by the roots. “I got a lot planned for you. Those magazines gave me a lot of ideas too.”

He lowered the gun, dragging it between your breasts and further down your abdomen until he reached the waistband of your jeans. Using his other hand, he unbuttoned and unzipped them with alarming ease, pulling them down until they fell to your ankles. Your breath hitched as he pressed the barrel of the gun against your cunt, the thin fabric of your panties the only thing stopping him from being able to slide it inside of you.

Still, the cool metal sent a shiver through you as he rubbed it against your clit, black spots creeping into your peripheral as you hyperventilated through his sadistic experiment. He was hard. That much you knew, but what frightened you, perhaps most of all, was how wet you had become since he tied you up. Your skin still screamed against the rough twine that’d been cutting into your flesh, soon to draw blood as you kept struggling.

Your hips jerked, pressing the gun barrel closer to your pussy that was eager to betray you and clench around it if he just pushed past your panties and shoved it up there. You didn’t want him to do that, not in your right mind. But no one in your situation could be considered in their right mind, could they?

“Don’t fight it,” he encouraged gruffly, blue eyes piercing through you as he watched your knees threaten to give out as you neared orgasm. “Give the devil his due, mama.”

Your hands curled into fists, nails threatening to break through the skin of your palm. Then he did it. Slipped the barrel of the gun past your soaked cotton panties. Your brain short-circuited in a rush of terror and thrill at the sensation. You came, eyelids fluttering shut, a guttural moan tearing from your throat and pushing through your gag. Your limbs felt like ghosts, incorporeal parts of you that could only offer a vague sense of feeling compared to the sensation that overwhelmed your body, pleasure and adrenaline coursing through your veins all the same.

Gun be damned, you collapsed against the checkout counter, unable to support yourself any longer. Your chest heaved, unable to catch your breath with the now saliva-soaked bandana still shoved halfway down your throat. An astounded whine escaped your lips when he brought the gun up to his nose and sniffed. “This is it, mama. This is the devil’s salvation.”

He wasn’t making any damn sense, or your brain was too fuzzy to comprehend what he was saying. All you knew about the devil was from the Bible and that stupid Dr. Satan story people regurgitated like spoiled food. If Otis was the devil, you’d believe it, though.

The sound of a car door slamming shut made your eyes widen, and you glanced over your shoulder, your muffled screams of either help or warning to however was approaching.

“Sorry about this, darlin’. We’ll have a lot more fun later,” he said, hitting you across the face with the gun, sending you to the brink of consciousness.

The bell on the door faintly jingled, and the last thing you remember seeing was a large, familiar figure walking towards you.

“C’mon and help me get ‘er in the car,” Otis said just as you passed out. "Don't forget the cash."

#otis driftwood x reader #otis driftwood #house of 1000 corpses #the devil's rejects #3 from hell #slasher x reader #slasher community #slasher fandom #otis driftwood fanfic #otis driftwood imagine #slasher fanfic

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antlerclxws · 2 months

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CHLOE CHARMING HEADCANONS!

- She is autistic! She often uses noise canceling headphones or earplugs during sword practice, the sounds of the swords hitting each other makes her teeth grind.

- Lesbian! But not very out and open about it, Chad is the only one that knows apart from Red but she is certainly trying to come out! Mostly on her own terms.

- Has ADHD (Audhd girlie!) and often forgets to eat meals when really hyper-fixated on something, like her history books or her swords training, a lot of the times Red does have to remind her or bring her small snacks in between her breaks

- After coming back to the present time with Red, her relationship with her mother was very protective(?) in a way. She was a little worried about being away from her mother and would take many opportunities to be back with Cinderella. It took months for her to get a hold on the idea that her mother was safe again.

- Chloe is a chronic clothing stealer, her closet is full of Red’s clothes even though they stand out so bright in her closet and color scheme. It makes her laugh to have people shoot her some odd looks as they see bright red with golds, whites and baby blues. It serves as a reminder in Chloe’s mind that Red loves her, enough to share her clothes with her.

- Uses ASL! Since Chloe has some bad meltdowns sometimes when too overwhelmed or simply overtired, she uses sign language and has been since she was a kid and King Charming taught it to her! The entire Charming family uses it to communicate with Chloe when she goes nonverbal and Red is actively on her way to becoming fluent in it to understand and aid Chloe better.

- Her and Chad used to be double trouble when they were kids, they would run around the castle in races and narrowly avoid knocking over a servant or two in the process. They would make anything a competition; Who could get to dinner faster, who could read a chapter of Mom’s favorite book faster, who loves Mom and Dad more, so on and so on!

- Chloe’s favorite place to go on a date is to the museum!! She likes to look at all the museum of cultural history has and she loves to go on long rants about some of the exhibits there. Her second favorite place is a botanical garden because she likes how peaceful there are, and Red loves taking her any where when they’re allowed to.

- Chloe still wonders about Wonderland, even more so now that they’ve come and gone in the past. She doesn’t want to get Red upset with her by asking after them but she still thinks about it from time to time. (“Did flamingo feathers always taste good?”)

- She is actually one of the biggest sort of advocate for anything if she or someone else needs it, even if it means being a bit mean to get there. Chloe doesn’t find it fair that she has to ask for certain things and have people get a bit snotty in response, although it’s Auradon, what should she expect with women like Audrey’s grandmother?

- Chloe age regresses! A coping mechanism sometimes for her mind when she’s too stressed or too anxious, she has a mental age range of around 7-9 and tends to only be around her brother or Red when she does regress, she’s only comfortable around them.

- Chloe was actually the one to first ask Red out instead of Red asking her out! She did it at the enchanted lake, it was a planned hangout where they were supposed to swim, but her nerves made her too nervous to even get near the water. She asked Red to be her girlfriend while they were sitting at the edge of the water, blurting it out so suddenly that it made them both stare at each other with wide eyes.

(She did go for a swim after, practically dunking herself under so she didn’t have to hear Red reject her at first, but she never did. So she had a girlfriend AND soaking wet clothes.)

#chloe charming #descendants headcanons #descendants rise of red #descendants: the rise of red #descendants the rise of red #disney descendants #glasshearts #charminghearts

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dorcas4meadowes · 7 months

Note

Hiii!!! This is my first time really leaving a request but imagine being like best friends with Clarisse but also dating Luke and her dating Chris bc like gossiping about them, double dates, the entire dynamic would be fire

Double Dates

Pairing - Luke Castellan x reader!Zeus

Warning - alcohol, light fighting, kisses

W/c - 4k

(Pretend weather affects inside chb, this sorta drags on, but i plan to make a pt 2 with more double date energy)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The woods were decorated with pinecones and screams.

Misery and Kleos sounded almost indecipherable, so you didn’t attempt to assist or applaud the shrieks. The atmosphere held both despair and glory, the bizarre feeling almost painful since you gained neither.

You hesitated to continue with Clarisse’s order to stay on the outskirts of the forest. The only fight you met from a handful of Demeter kids who were focused on decaying vegetation, the win was disappointing.

The path you trailed left a strange configuration, the ground exposing your depleted performance through the snow underfoot, many prints leading in circles. You trudged through the silent woodland and listened to the creak of tree limbs and distant bird chatter, all unnerving through the stillness.

Your breath rose like smoke as you watched it spiral above you to the sky which was darkened with clouds. The dim light made it difficult for you while you cautiously stepped over broken logs, your path only met with an end of secrecy and the border rive, which had frozen over delicately.

Perhaps you were hoping for chaos, so when a sudden sound of leaves rustled it startled your intrigue. The disturbance led you to hit your spear against the blanketed ground, the impact causing an abrupt burst of energy to illuminate the forest's demeanour and electrify your weapon.

You held it out in front of you, your head swiftly turning to a figure which emerged from the shade of a pine.

“Look, I don't want to hurt you”.

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's concern, “I have no worries Castellan”.

You both remained still for a few seconds, studying each other's stance and hold, his mere presence made you aware of your entire body. You took a swift inhale before you stepped in his direction. You went first, but his move to block your attack was fluid and precise. Each defend and bout almost choreographed.

You obstructed his hit and retaliated quickly which he caught with the edge of his blade. He began to step closer and push your spear and so it held above you, his lips toying with his stupid smirk.

With one arm he kept both your weapons up and with his other he took the helmet from his head and shook out his sweaty curls and pushed yours away as well.

But as he challenged you with one hand his grip depleted, beginning to shake from the impulses which your weapon emitted. He was strong, but not enough. He kept nearing closer, your arms drifting further above you, his nose just brushing against yours.

“You forfeit?" he whispered, his lips grazing against yours with each word.

He expected a weak response - words to fuel his glory - but instead a soft kiss was pressed to his lips, followed by a quick pull away from your weapon and leap of your body as he staggered forward. Your spear pushed against his armour which had him on the ground. With a swift kick you pushed the sword out of his disorientated hands, and stood in front of him with a hand on your hip, your other on your weapon.

“On your knees Castellan?”, your head tilted to one side, his lips opened to speak, but they closed when a racing body leapt across the ice another behind it eagerly.

Clarisse screamed words which were inaudible, but with the blue flag crumpled in her hands and a victorious smile etched onto her face, you took no time in cheering, the conch matching your excitement.

Chris stood beside her panting and flipped you off, you gratefully responded with your finger before turning back to your boyfriend who’s shoulder still had a twitch from the electricity.

“You surrender?” you asked, leaning down to him a little to emphasise your poise.

“Never”.

Unexpectedly a pile of snow was launched at your chest plate causing sleet to fall down your back and into your bra, the rush of cool making you shriek. You immediately began to throw whatever was in reach at Luke, his laughs only excelling.

You didn't exactly know when you toppled into the snow, but when you couldn’t feel your fingers and your clothes were drenched, the cold only emphasised your desire for a shower.

The showers never afforded much privacy, even though your body remained a mere suggestion - apart from your shoulders - you found discomfort in knowing you could catch someone's gaze at any moment. So you waited promptly until the stalls were vacant, except for friends you could tolerate.

It was almost an established procedure that Luke would shower prior to you, then hold you in company while you did so.

His head leant against the wooden timbers, his curls dampened by the rising steam, his barely audible words competing against the chorus of water. Some days he would join you, but you wanted soap to drip trace your body instead of his hands.

It was rare you could come by hot water, so when the infrequent heat left the tap you merged yourself in the soothing rhythm. The drips were like summer rain and fell onto your skin in all the right ways.

“Baby, it would be nice to get out,” Luke said and continued his last sentence.

“We went out when the twins threw that party”.

“That was months ago, plus Clarisse is going”, his response was inattentive as he grew amused by the veins on his own arm, flexing mindlessly.

“Is she?” you asked.

“She’s going if you’re going, and Chris is going if she goes”.

“Couldn’t we watch a movie instead? I saw a new trailer, Jennifer's body. I think it’s about a cheerleader or something”.

“We do that every night”.

“How long do you plan on staying at this thing for?” you asked, as a bar of soap slipped from your hands.

“A few hours maybe”.

“I have to watch the Apollo kids get sloppy drunk for a few hours!”

“You don’t have to, Beauregard will be there and you can dance with her, and for one i’ll be there”.

You turned the shower off and asked Luke to hand you your towel which wrapped around your steam obscured body.

“I’ll think about it,” you said.

“You will!”

“Maybe”.

You knew you would go, but you found pleasure in listening to him beg.

_____

The dining pavilion echoed with conflicting chatter and a vengeful distraction on Herme's table.

“Uno!” Clarisse screamed, oblivious to the trembling campers who caught her adrenaline shattering gaze.

“You can’t end the game on a colour change”, Luke enlightened her.

“Fuck you i won”.

“He’s just mad we won to capture the flag” you spoke, looking in the direction of Chris who flicked a card at your forehead.

“We felt bad for always beating you, it was more of a let”.

“Your excuses numb me Rodrigues” you mocked, reshuffling the cards which were sprawled over the table. You push each set on the wood and begin another fretting game, watching everybody’s twitching features.

Pick up two

Pick up four

“Suck it Castellan!” Clarisse shrieked, watching his slowed response.

“Just pick up baby, you aren’t always going to be on top” you teasingly spoke, leaning over and patting his hand.

“I -” he gave up on his sentence and picked up 16 cards to his already enormous hand.

You won this round, Chris next and then Clarisse again, but uno could only progress for so many rounds before it became too repetitive.

“Let’s make this interesting, the winner gets a week off chores” Chris suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m in, the stables stink like ass” you said, placing your stack in the middle for Clarisse to shuffle.

“I’m down” she agreed, your boyfriend’s smile only answering your question.

Once the challenge was set the game had become theatrical; Clarisse’s screams, Luke’s laughs and both you and Chris’ unspoken glances.

As the game advances Chris’ hands grew to contain an abundance of cards, the absurd sheets all falling when Luke yelled.

“Uno hah!” the final card hit the table and you couldn’t help, but groan.

“Watch your back Castellan” Clarrisse snarled, abruptly standing up to ease her steam. “Yeah Luke, wouldn’t want anyone to hurt you” you said, kissing him on the cheek then leaving back to cabin 3, with the promise of meeting him within an hour.

The Zeus cabin was consistently desolate, the stale air defeating the little number of inhabitants. The interior was a constant reminder of the gods' disinterest in your life, the vacant bunk beds and unclaimed spaces proved that you were an anomaly, but mostly a hazard.

The empty cabin smelt of pine and leather and despite your heavy usage of perfume, the lingering scent never seemed to fade. It was almost as if it were trying to silence your existence.

There wasn't the hustle or rush in your cabin as many others had to experience, only the hum of electricity and the quiet reflection from the open sky.

Despite your initial hushed greeting, your sister brought relief to the quiet, her steady presence in your life reassuring your every move. Thalia had grown from your half sibling to becoming your chosen family, you were tied together by blood, but her fondness for you never felt transactional, she made you feel appreciated for simply living. The only adversity with your sister's company is the loose chops of hair that would float around your cabin from her irrational trims, but ignoring the material difficulties - and her slight narcissism - you loved her, you always would. So did your friends, Clarisse admired her and they shared an unspoken respect for each other, she didn’t mind Chris or Silena and Luke were hers before he was yours. She was not jealous of your relationship, but she felt that she was losing him to you, the one person she could trust to not complicate her life, taking who meant most to her.

The addition of your companions and hers meant that your docile cabin was filled with bursts of spirit once every so often, but when the sky darkened and the temperature plummeted it was just Thalia and you, her words gentle and actions soft. You were the one person who she would protect from the brutality of the world, the one person she felt vulnerable with.

“I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” Thalia asked, she gently hit the top of your head and moved towards the door with a bag slung over her shoulder.

“Mhm'' you agreed, watching her leave. Something that would never change would be her avoidance of goodbyes.

The air that gasped at Thalia’s departure was swiftly content with the arrival of Clarisse, your friend perched on the edge of your bed fastening a clasp of gold around her neck.

“You drinking tonight?” she asked.

“If I plan to leave with my sanity, then yes” you replied, shrugging your jacket over your top. The camp shirts were comfortable, but they didn’t exactly exude “lets get drunk and make mistakes”, so events usually held a casual attire.

She made a low hum, “I could use a break”.

“I heard Beau’s gonna be there tonight”, you plucked at an invisible string that entwined Silena and Clarisse. “I know, I heard she’s hooking up with Beckendorf”.

“Heard you finally hooked up with Rodrigues”, you teased at the new found information that she shared over a piece of toast. She threw a shoe at the back of your chair and you turned with a grin. “How is that going?”

“Yes” she mumbled.

“Yes?”

“He’s shit but he’s nice”.

“He’ll get better, they usually do” you smiled.

“Please don’t tell me you're referring to Castellan”.

“No, he was always a good shag”.

“Block my ears please”.

“You asked”.

“I did not!” she defended, swiping lipstick from your desk.

“Where do you go anyways?” you questioned, you were eager for the answer since you never found any privacy. Whether you were stealing kisses behind stone sculptures or bent over in your dark cabin you always seemed to get interupted, any mood which arose immediately decreasing.

She replied with one word “Showers”.

“You ever get caught?”

“Twice, but people learn to piss off pretty quickly”.

You caught her eye in the mirror and couldn’t help but laugh, because in a matter of moments you were immersed amongst the Dionysus cabin which held sweaty bodies and flashing lights, Clarisse leaving your side swiftly to down shots which piled up seamlessly.

On either side of the floor stood pulsating stereos that only added to the distraught atmosphere. The cabin scraped up surprisingly well from its usual mess, but the strung lights and table of drinks could not pull away from the crowds.

These parties always proved to be tedious.

Nobody could hold their liquor and the room was swarmed with drunken mistakes. Within ten minutes you had observed your friends humiliate themselves willingly and drag one another into private corners, everybody seemed eager to confess their secrets which you listened to absently, their breath laced with cheap alcohol.

Many of their vicarious actions humbling any pedestal you placed them on.

“No you listen to me, i - i know it’s dumb, but he has nice eyebrows” Silena slurred, hovering over you.

“Beau you don’t know him” you explained, trying to impede your words into her intoxicated mind.

“But I love him!” she exclaimed rather loudly.

“How about we get you back to your sisters” you suggested, setting your drink on the table beside you. You hitched her arm over your shoulders and searched for Drew who always seemed to be alert, letting her fall into her arms.

“Maybe you can stop baby sitting and enjoy yourself”.

You turned to your boyfriend, “perhaps i could if this cabin weren’t filled with idiots”.

“Are you calling me an idiot?” Luke asked as he slid his hand through yours.

“Yes”.

“You will never have fun if you don’t let yourself”.

“I never will then”.

“Not with that attitude”.

“Your personality fatigues me”, you pestered and rolled your eyes.

“Loose some layers and come dance with me” he suggested, taking a few steps towards you.

“It’s four degrees outside”.

“Not in here it’s not” he said, his fingers slipping behind the neck of your jumper and trailing down so the zip fell with each moment.

You wouldn’t admit to it, but his touch sent sparks down your spine and any excuse for him to be touching you, you would both utilise.

He leant closer and brushed his lips against your ear, placing your jacket over his arm.

“I love these little lace up tops'”, he whispered, his words fighting against the rising voice of Shakira. His hands toyed with the strings of your shirt before pulling you towards the crowd of campers whose arms were strewn above their heads.

Lucky you were born that far away so

We could both make fun of distance

You shifted weight on your feet and loosened a little to “wherever whenever”, stifling a laugh as Luke spins you around and into his arms, attempting to ease your rigor. You didn’t want to enjoy yourself, but you couldn’t help but find a steady sway in your hips as Luke guided them mindlessly, his hands on the bare skin of your back.

Le-do-lo-le-lo-le, le-do-lo-le-lo-le

Can't you see? I'm at your feet

The flashing array of lights only made it more tempting to seek out comfort in Luke’s body, the blue hue making him appear angelic which wasn't far from the truth.

Whenever, wherever

We're meant to be together

From the sheer number of people dancing your bodies were pushed together, his hands tight against your ass to keep you close. His placement was intentional so when he turned you they could travel to your hips with ease. You skimmed your body against his, his lips peppering small kisses along your neck as you pressed yourself further into him.

Lucky that my lips not only mumble

They spill kisses like a fountain

You let your head rest against him as he nips below your ear, his fingers pressing into your hips firmly, you were sure you were branded. You couldn’t help but feel completely and utterly blissful (horny is the right word) allowing his hands to turn you so you features eagerly brushed against one another.

His head drops to the space between your neck and shoulders while a hand travels up your side, one still swaying you gently. His fingers fold under the hem of your top and progress to cup your breast in his hands, his fingers pressing into the fat. It doesn’t take you long to assist his grip back to your waist, but once he hangs loosely around your middle you feel as if you know all there is to Luke Castellan, the soft curls only the start to him.

Le-do-lo-le-lo-le, le-do-lo-le-lo-le

At your feet, I'm at your feet

You didn’t care considerably for the music, but it seemed to completely cease when a hand landed on your shoulder, trying to tug you away from your boyfriend. It took little time for Luke to notice the hand and for you to turn, to only have your nerves ease when the grip belonged to Clarisse who drunkenly pulled you close to her, laughing, holding you affectionately, not caring for Luke’s groans from the loss of you.

After a few sweaty dances both you and Chris found solace in the contents of red solo cups, both attempting to empty the liquor fastest. You threw the liquor down your neck ignoring the burn, watching him mirror your movements, but even then, that didn't last too long, your body - with the assistance of Silena’s hands - were being pulled over the people who were gathered around the carpeted floor in a circle.

Chris was to your left in and you both looked for one another for an answer, but when a bottle was placed in the middle of the group by a child of Hecate, it gave you your response.

They went first, spinning the empty bottle and met a child of Hermes in the centre for a quick snog before it spun again and spun until it came in the hands of Luke.

He leant forward and breathlessly spun it swiftly. You watched it pass you and Clarisse and anybody you would be comfortable for your boyfriend to kiss until it landed on a pretty girl from the Hephaestus cabin. She smiled as she leant forward and so did Luke,

Moments before he planted a generous kiss on her lips his eyes met yours for a split second then closed. The more she explored his lips the more her hands wandered, pulling at a few curls at the nape of his neck, touring with the strands which were yours.

You could feel yourself blink and by the time they pulled away giggles slipped out of the girls lips and you felt like you were going to gag. You rolled your eyes at their persistence, but you let your gaze linger on the girl who seemed cheerful.

The glass continued to spin, people meeting in the middle numerous times until it caught at the carpet facing your knees. You looked up to the person you were soon to meet and when you did your lips tugged into a grin.

Enzo you believed his name to be, a son of Aphrodite, very renowned for his soft lips and gentle touch, that which you were eager to know. You could admire one's beauty, but you felt no need to act on your impressions, so when you could - free of charge - you would.

Enzo dark curls fell over his eyes, framing his face carefully as he neared closer to you, his lips instantly falling onto yours when his hand snaked around your neck. He moved differently - his lips that it - it was nothing like Luke. Enzo was harsh and he had no hesitation as if pouring his soul through the press, you felt like you had known him in several languages and multiple lifetimes.

The room blurred a little after you pulled away, a swift last kiss pressed to your cheek as if bidding his farewell. You smiled at his warmth and then moved to your seat, watching the already spinning bottle at the hand of Silena.

“Had fun?” Chris whispered to you, watching a daughter of Iris pull Silena into a messy snog.

“I suppose so”.

“My brother looks riveted,” he said, his tone teasing.

“When does he not” you replied, turning to his impending gaze on you.

“What” you mouthed.

“Nothing,” he mused, it wasn’t nothing, but you were too intoxicated off of your dances and a few drinks to be concerned.

When the game disbanded and were relocated it took very little to persuade you of much, so when the offer to play just dance arose you had no hesitation in amusing yourself with the game, Clarisse and Chris beside you.

Out of the humming centre lay a few old couches which are where you flickered through songs on a wii and paused at “wannabe” by the spice girls.

The first few beats of the song played and you instantly began mirroring the characters on the screen, mimicking the choreography.

You carelessly moved your body and couldn’t help, but laugh at Chris who was never graced with the ability of rhythm. You danced and allowed yourself to disregard any priorities you held, letting them drip off of you like the sweat that beaded on your lower back.

“Hey Y/n!” Clarisse yelled over the chatter and music.

“Yeah?” you responded, breathing heavily as you danced the last few moments of the song before falling against the couches behind you.

“Call me a daughter of Hermes, but I'd love to travel in your bra”.

You giggled at the joke, “call me a son-”

“Son?” “- of Poseidon, but there’s a tsunami forming between my thighs” you laughed, leaning over to plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

“Call me Kronos’ but i would love to eat you up” Chris teased as he slumped next to Clarisse snaking an arm around her.

“Oh um” you stirred, thinking of a comeback.

“Maybe I am the daughter of Athena, because I would love to strategize how to open your legs,” Clarrisse slurred, making you breathless from her stupid jokes.

You leant into her side, her arms around you and Chris, she had two hands after all, but so did you, your grasp empty of Luke.

“Where’s Luke?” you said, not caring of your volume, recalling what felt missing.

“Probably moping”.

“About what?”

“Global warming i don’t know” Chris confessed, causing you to push yourself from the couch and to search for your lost boy.

Your head buzzed and your limbs ached, not particularly from movement, but lack off. You staggered through the room and allowed yourself to take your time as you lazily surveyed the following in front of you. Mist glazed your sight, so every step felt like a game of charades, hoping you would not fall against the wrong body.

“Luke” your voice croaked, pulling a hand to your mouth when a hiccup left your lips. “Luke” you repeated, your legs weak under you as you trailed through the bodies and dropped possessions.

“Need help angel?”

You were close to the door when a boy from the Apollo cabin steadied you, “I - i where’s Luke?”

“He’s outside I believe”.

“Thank you soldier” you saluted the blonde.

“You sure you’re ok getting there”.

“Impertantly” you slurred pulling away from him and using the door frame to push yourself out of the hustle with a groan. “Luke” you slurred, the last letters elongating, “hide and seek, i see”. You passively rubbed at your eye with your hand, your make up cascading across your cheek with each swipe. “It’s ok, I'm not going to eat you”.

Your words fell like your body did against a plush landing of greenery. “You’re not Luke'', you hit the grass and recoiled as shocks sent through your fingers and sparks threatened to spread against the green. “I hate you” you spat, letting the grey fog in the air drag a body towards you.

The voice spoke, but you couldn’t decipher their words, but their touch, it was one you would recognise blindly. Luke was not immune to your sparks, but found pleasure in the shocks as it proved your consciousness. He ran his hands across your sweaty forehead and did not flinch as you reached to pull yourself to him, melting in his arms.

“Let's get you to your bed hm?”

Luke indulged in alcohol but knew his limits, unlike you who drank till senseless.

“I’m not tired” you whined, morosing with the thought of your bed.

“How about a walk to take the edge off”.

“No” you denied his other request.

“What do you want then”.

“You”.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

this was sitting in my drafts and i probably will re write <3

@prettyinsatiable @daisydark @creamsweets @auttumnsayshi @ashr0 @y0urm0m12 @2hiigh2cry @niktwazny303

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagines #luke pjo #pjo x you #pjo x reader #riawrites

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lxvsiick · 6 days

Text

THE STARS ARE SHINING BRIGHTLY | HAN TAESAN X READER

[PART 2 -- VERSION 2]

PAIRING: ex! han taesan x ex! fem! reader

SUMMARY: After running into his ex, Y/n, Taesan chases after her--and what happens after was all he could ever wish for.

GENRE: fluff?, angst?, exes, imagine

WORDCOUNT: 1.1k

A/N: i guess everyone deserves a happy ending 😒 jk ,, i apologize for the pain i have caused 🙇🏻‍♀️ btw pink and blue go so well together — i love how the title turned out

❝ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

Every step felt heavy with anticipation, each breath a mix of excitement and anxiety. He didn’t know what he’d say or what he hoped to find, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a chance he couldn’t let slip by.

Finally, he spotted her again, standing on the corner, waiting for a bus. With a deep breath, he approached, trying to steady his racing heart.

“Y/n!” he called out, trying to keep his voice calm and steady.

She turned, a look of surprise crossing her face as she recognized the urgency in his voice. Her eyes widened as they met his, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Everything around them seemed to disappear and it was only them there. Y/n’s look of surprise turns into a smile, her sparkling eyes meeting him.

“Hi.”

“It’s been a while,” he said, his voice low, struggling to keep his emotions in check. He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “How... how have you been?”

She gave a small, distant smile. “I’ve been doing better, actually. A lot better. Things are finally looking up.”

Taesan nodded, though her words twisted in his chest. Seeing her happy without him felt like a double-edged sword—he wanted this for her, but it hurt to realize he wasn’t part of her happiness anymore.

“That’s good to hear,” he managed. “I’m really happy for you.” A pause hung between them before he continued, his voice dropping to a more vulnerable tone. “Idol life has been good for me, too, I guess. But... I’ve missed you. You’ve never left my mind. Not once.”

Her smile faltered as she listened, her eyes softening as his words sunk in. She didn’t say anything, but the way she looked at him spoke of memories they both shared, memories that still lingered.

“I regret everything I did,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “The way things ended... I keep replaying it in my mind, wishing I could have done things differently. Better. I’ve thought about you so much, and I’ve been kicking myself every day for letting you go.”

She remained silent, her gaze steady but full of emotion.

“Have you... have you ever missed me?” His voice was barely above a whisper now, laced with a desperate kind of hope.

For a moment, she didn’t answer, her eyes dropping to the ground. But when she spoke, her voice was small, fragile. “I did... I still do.”

His heart jumped at her words. His chest tightened with a hope he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in months. “Then... maybe... maybe we could try again?” he asked, stepping closer to her, his heart on the line. “I promise, I’ll do better this time. I’ll be the person you deserve. Just... give me another chance.”

She looked up at him, uncertainty and love battling in her expression. They stood there, the weight of their shared history hanging between them. Her eyes searched his, and for a moment, it felt like the world stopped.

“I never stopped loving you,” she said quietly, her words tentative, as if she was afraid of what might come next.

He swallowed hard, feeling like his heart might burst. “I never stopped loving you either.”

After what felt like an eternity, she nodded, her eyes filled with both fear and hope. “Okay,” she whispered. “We can try again.”

Relief washed over him, his chest swelling with hope and gratitude. He couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face, genuine and full of emotion. “Thank you,” he breathed. “I promise, I’ll make it right this time.”

As they stood there, the weight of their past seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the possibility of a future together.

❝ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

The night sky stretched endlessly above, a canvas of twinkling stars that reflected in Y/n’s eyes as she stood on the private balcony, her hands resting gently on the railing. The cool evening breeze played with the curls of her long hair, causing strands to dance around her face. She wore a stunning cream-colored dress that flowed elegantly in the wind, perfectly complementing the glow of the moonlight that bathed her in a soft, ethereal light.

It was a perfect night—peaceful, serene. But a soft sound from behind pulled her from her thoughts. She turned, her gaze falling on Taesan, who was walking towards her, a bouquet of white daisies—her favorite flowers—held in his hands. The sight of him, standing there with that warm, familiar smile, made her heart skip a beat.

"These are for you," he said softly as she walked up to him. His voice was gentle, filled with a tenderness that never seemed to fade, even after all these years.

She took the bouquet, her fingers brushing against his for a brief moment, sending a spark through her. "You remembered," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her smile lighting up her face.

"How could I ever forget?" he replied with a playful smile, his eyes locked on hers.

Suddenly, music filled the air. She blinked in surprise as the rest of the BOYNEXTDOOR members popped out from behind the door, Sungho strumming a guitar while the others began dancing in sync, clearly having rehearsed this. Laughter bubbled up from her chest as she turned back to him, her heart swelling with affection and love.

But Taesan gently pulled her attention back to him, his hands wrapping around hers as the music continued. His expression grew serious, his eyes soft as he gazed down at her. "These last four years with you... they’ve been the best of my life," he began, his voice full of emotion. "I will always regret letting you go the first time, and I can’t thank you enough for giving us another chance."

Her breath hitched as his words sunk in, her heart racing as she saw the shift in his expression.

"And now," he continued, his voice catching slightly as he dropped down on one knee. The world seemed to slow down around her as he pulled out a small velvet box from his pocket and opened it, revealing a delicate, sparkling ring inside. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Tears instantly brimmed in her eyes as she looked down at him, the love she felt for him overwhelming her. She couldn’t speak for a moment, her throat tight with emotion. All she could do was nod, her tears spilling over as she whispered, "Yes, of course."

The members behind them erupted into cheers, with one of the members dramatically clutching his chest. "Finally! She’s taking him off our hands!" they joked, their voices full of joy as the others continued playing and dancing in celebration.

Laughing through her tears, Y/n dropped to her knees in front of Taesan, pulling him into a tight embrace, her heart full and her future clear. They had found each other again, and this time, they weren’t letting go.

❝ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

PART ONE | PART TWO VER.1 | MASTERLIST

#lxvsiick </3 #kpop #boynextdoor #boynextdoor x reader #han dongmin #han taesan #taesan boynextdoor #taesan x reader #taesan #han taesan x reader #boynextdoor taesan #taesan bnd #bnd x reader #bnd imagines #boynextdoor fluff #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor ff

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powdermelonkeg · 3 months

Text

Echoes of Wisdom Trailer Analysis: Part 1

I'll tell you what, a new Zelda game, especially one this year, was NOT what I was expecting. I was hoping for a teaser a la "the sequel to BotW is now in development," but to have a full on main-series game come out? That caught me completely off guard.

But I've got my bearings. And I like what I see. So let's break down what we DID see, shall we?

Our opening shot has Link in some ruins, looking over at what appears to be Soldiers (as in the enemy, a lesser version of Darknuts), which are a staple for Fallen Timeline games.

However, they usually aren't this color, restricted to red, blue, and green. And they usually have swords or tridents, not axes.

The axes are a new development, as are the black armor and white capes. Maybe they've taken on the red -> blue -> green -> black -> silver difficulty pattern that BotW and TotK had?

Moving on.

Link here has a dark blue cape with teal geometric patterns on the back. Tempting as it is to connect this to the Zonai with the recent game-

-I'm going to abstain for now, because Zelda games like their teal geometry.

Looking around, the ruins Link finds himself in are unique.

We have eye patterns on the walls and double helixes framing the door. We haven't seen any pattern like this before, to my knowledge.

Link rushes in, sword drawn. The floor is plain square patterns on cracked tile.

We get our first glimpse of the Hylian Shield

As well as a clear shot of his sword. Oddly enough, it's not the Master Sword, or anything like it—it looks too plain to be something final, like the Four Sword or Phantom Sword:

And yet, it still very distinctly matches Link's current aesthetic, with the teal geometry.

Honestly, it looks more akin to a beginning sword that needs to change, like the Goddess Sword of Skyward Sword:

It's basic, it's easy to look at, but it's distinct and memorable.

Immedaitely after the cinematic run, the camera snaps to an overhead view, in which Link attacks. So there's at least a little gameplay as Link.

We see Princess Zelda in her crystal prison. Nothing unusual so far, but she definitely has a new look to her, even if her dress is distinctly Toon/Oracles/AlttP style remade.

Then we pan down to Ganon. Fallen Timeline's beast Gan, as we're used to seeing him. So far, he seems to look the most like his ALBW iteration, with the spiked cuffs around his wrists.

Link enters the scene. Purple mist is there for ambiance.

The pattern on the ground feels...ornamental. It doesn't stick out much or have enough detail on it to be the usual big-bad-evil-ritual.

Link throws his cape away dramatically.

Again, we get a camera-snapped view in which Link's attacks seem very much in the player's control.

And blocking Link off from escape, we have a magical barrier, though this one is emitting particles.

It's almost like Ganon's torn the ground open for this.

Defeated, ready for phase two, Ganon dissipates into purple sparks, only to reappear and start his tennis volley.

And here's where we get our proper view of him head-on.

ALBW's Ganon is a bit easy to miss in-game, because Yuga takes him over moments after he arrives. But he looks like this:

This is not our Gan's design.

He has the bracers, yes, but his forehead gem isn't spiked, his eyes are red, not white, his armor is gold with red edges and has chest plates that look a lot like really old art of ALttP Gan:

But most interestingly, his necklace is different.

In every version of Ganon that looks like this, he's either had a skull at his neck

Or a gem

But our Gan has something new. Something that, given the eyes in the corridor, feels deliberate:

There's a menace in this branch of Hyrule's history that's known for three things: a horned eye, purple magic, and possession.

And I'm out of images. Part 2 here!

#loz #zelda #eow #echoes of wisdom #long post #theory #analysis

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yorshie · 1 year

Text

Cistern

bayverse turtles x fem reader (No Y/N)

Summary: The Boys have a surprise pool party waiting for you in the sewers. Some lewd jokes if you squint. nicknames and fluff

set in 2023 so turtles are 22 ish

When you side stepped through the turnstiles and into the lair, you expected to be greeted by all four of the turtles. Instead, only the smallest of the brothers was there, playing away on his phone and humming a lively tune.

“Mikey?” You parked your butt on the table next to him, bare legs brushing against his arm as he looked up from whatever game he was using to pass the time.

“Hey, babycakes! Woo-woo, look at you!” He waggled his eye ridges, looking you up and down. “Really glad I drew the stick to bring you to the surprise.”

You felt your face heat up, but gave him a smile all the same, glancing down his body to take in the lack of weapons and his loose orange and black swim trunks. “Well, Leo said wear comfortable clothes I didn’t mind getting wet?”

“Heh.” The orange turtle pocketed his phone, using one movement to sway to his feet and lift you up into his arms. “Hope you’re ok with a bit of an adventure, babes. We gotta go through some of the larger tunnels to get where we’re going.”

You crossed your arms around his neck, slinging your bag up and over your stomach so he could get a better grip. “You’re not going to drop me into anything nasty, are you Angelo?”

“Oh, babes, I’d never drop you.” He winked, doing a little dance towards the entrance to make you laugh.

The sound of running water grew louder the closer you two got to the ‘surprise’. Mikey was horrible when it came to keeping secrets, especially when it involved anything his brothers planned that included you.

So far, you had weaseled out of him that there was a waterfall involved, and some sort of swimming would be required. That last bit worried you, but you comforted yourself that surely nothing too deep could exist in the underground system of tunnels.

At the last bend, Mikey slapped his large hand over your face and tucked your head into his shoulder, causing you to giggle as you fought to peek between his fingers. Finally, he let you win, and you were able to pull his hand down and lean back up to take in the view.

“Woah.” The word left your lips in a soft whisper.

Mikey had brought you to a giant stone cistern far below the city streets. Crystal clear blue water stretched off between columns as far as you could see. The arched ceiling was littered with lights to keep the light a soft glow. Against the furthest wall a rounded opening high above spilled water out into the pool. The ripples were the only disturbance, the crash of water somehow a distance echo with the calm ambiance.

“Took you long enough.” Leo’s soft voice, the eldest moving up a set of stone steps you’d completely missed. You flicked a look over him, his form a little alien without the twin swords strapped across his back and his arms uncovered.

“Don’t get jealous, Leo, that particular shade of green is unbecoming on you.” Mikey singsonged, causing his brother to roll his eyes.

“The water’s clean?” You asked, before you held up a hand, physically pushing the question away. “No, don’t answer that. That was a stupid question.”

Leo chuckled, but only tilted his head back towards the stairs, hand reaching out for you to pass your bag over. “Donnie’s been working on this for years, ever since we found it. We wanted to make sure everything worked as intended before we invited you down.”

You hummed back at him to show you were listening, clutching Mikey tighter as he all but skipped down the stairs to a path jutting out between the columns.

“You drop her, shell-brain, and I’ll beat your ass.”

You had to do a double take to find him, but Raph was floating in the water, peering up over the stone edge to eye his baby brother critically.

“Relax Raph, I’d never drop her. Throw her, however-”

You barely registered the words before you were flying through the air with a shriek, stomach ticking up in your throat before the swoop of the fall. You hit the cool water hard, limbs tangled and your side taking most of the hit.

You regretted never telling them you couldn’t swim.

You resisted the urge to take a breath, the shock of impact causing you to freeze up as you slipped under the surface. You had a moment of clear wonder at the way the light reflected like dancing arcs through the water and off the stone, before you realized the cistern was much deeper than you expected, and Mikey had thrown you well away from the wall.

Your chest was starting to burn, and you tried to think back to how people in movies swam. Before you could get through more than a handful of uncoordinated movements however, a strong grip circled your arm at the same time something shoved you from below. Looking down, you could see Leo’s shell, his arms twining around your legs to push you up towards the surface.

You broke the surface with a ragged gasp, sputtering as that large hand wrapped around your torso and pulled you off Leo’s shoulders.

Raph used his other hand to rub your back briskly, the up and down motion causing your shirt to pull at your skin.

Leo broke through the water in front of you, blinking back his second set of eyelids to glare at you. “You can’t swim?”

You floundered, sucked in a too loud breath, and watched as the knowledge settled in him and his ire turned to Mikey. “Mikey!”

“Woah, bro, how was I suppose to know?”

“This is why we don’t go tossin’ guests ‘round!” Raph thundered, aiming a splash at Mikey.

You gripped Raph’s arm tightly, bobbing in the water as he pulled you back towards the edge. When he tried to transfer you to the stone, however, you sunk your nails in, preferring the solid, constant aura of strength he oozed.

“Hey, babes, you ok?” Mikey was hunched on his hands and knees next to the edge, and you glanced up at him, blinking away water to meet his concerned gaze. Before you could say anything though, Raph grabbed the top lip of his shell and hauled him into the water with a squawk.

“Hold on, sweetheart, go to Leo so I can drown his ass.” His free hand kept Mikey effortlessly under the water despite his thrashing, and you all but threw yourself towards the turtle in blue to escape the sloshing water.

He slid an arm around your waist before pushing you up towards his shell, letting you sprawl across the width and grip the edge as he swam away from Mikey’s punishment.

“We should have asked if you could swim.” He offered over his shoulder, the sounds of fighting breaking out behind you both.

You twisted on his shell, peered over your shoulder to see Mikey had broken the surface and while Raph was big and angry, Mikey was just barely faster than him in the water.

“I should have told you guys. I just-”

“-didn’t think about it.” He finished, blue eyes clear of judgement. “I hope you aren’t scared now?” He was heading out into one of the larger sections of water, closer to the waterfall, and the ripples lapped over the curve of his shell and your legs as he cut through the water effortlessly.

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to be afraid with you guys around.” Leo let out a pleased rumble at your words, and you continued. “Speaking of, where’s Donnie?”

As though summoned, the water broke over the curve of the last brothers’ shell next to you, a squinty eyed Donnie peering up at you after blinking back his protective membrane.

“Hey, you made it.” He seemed pleased, reaching out to brush against your arm as he rolled over in the water to float on his shell, bare except for neon purple shorts. He grinned, knocking purposefully into Leo’s shell. “First time here and you’ve already turned Leo into a turtle taxi.”

Leo huffed under you. “She can’t swim, Dee.”

That brought the tallest brother up short. “What? You can’t swim?” At your nod, his lips pursed. “Well, that’s not good. Maybe some lessons?”

Before you could groan at the fact that they’d somehow worked training into what was suppose to be a day for relaxing, Leo was nodding, disappearing under the water to pull you off his shell.

“We’ll start with something easy. All you have to do is swim to Donnie.” He held you upright in the water, away from the heat of his body despite your insistence to cling to him.

“Orrrr- we could take the turtle taxi underwater?” You tried to dangle the notion in front of them like a treat, knowing they liked to show off for you, but they both shook their heads.

“This is important. What if you were alone for some reason and fell in?” Leo reasoned.

“Then it’s my time to go.” You deadpanned, knowing you’d never get out of it now but needing the stress relief of sassing back at them.

Leo snorted, the soft sound almost lost as you eyed the distance to Donnie. With an intake of breath, you kicked off his chest, arms coming up to sweep in an arc before you madly grabbed onto Donnie’s proffered arm.

“Well done!” He chirped at you, letting you cling to him for a moment.

“Don’t chirp at me, I’m mad at you both.” You sulked, but let him pull you further away, taking his offered hand. Your four fingers slotted in between his two, the stretch slightly awkward with how big his knuckles were.

“Hm, well, maybe we can focus on treading water for a moment?” His palm was cool on your other arm, supporting your elbow just under the surface of the water. “Kick your legs, like that.” He grinned at you again, following as you slowly turned them both in the water. “There you go, you’re a natural!”

It was hard to stay mad at him, as giddy as he became at your success. It became even harder when he lifted your clasped hands up high, twirling you in the water until you laughed, before facing towards Leo once more.

“Now, back to Leo.” His fingers slipped from your own, receding to mimic the other at your elbow as he waited for you to move.

You eyed the distance, noticing it had widened a little.

“C’mon,” Leo called, arms swept towards you, “I’m right here.”

You huffed, then took a reflexive gulp of air before arcing for him. You’d almost reached him, when without warning, he pulled back, movements easy as he swam a little further away.

“Wait! Come back!” You floundered at the end of your arc. “You ass!” You bobbed under in a moment of panic, swallowing a large gulp of water in the process, before slapping the water desperately as you followed after him. You felt more than heard his chuckle as you bodily hugged him, legs coming up to hook on the edges of his shell as he widened the distance.

“This time, when you get to the end of your arc, simply repeat the movement and kick your legs, like you did when you were treading the water! They’re way stronger than your arms, so use them!” Donnie called the instructions over to you.

“Your mom is stronger-” You muttered, low enough that only Leo heard, irritated at the both of them once more. You pushed off him again, childishly kicking water in his face as you arced for Donnie.

Upon reaching him, he offered you an arm, and you pressed it flat along your chest, hooking both arms over to bob next to him. He hummed, long and low, and you watched him phantom mime touching his glasses while giving you a look, taking in your expression.

He let you settle for a moment, before his hand grabbed onto your shirt, bunching up the material at your side. “Hold on.”

He swung you in an arc, pulling you through the water, creating a wave with your body and pulling out an elated yelp. You could just barely hear Leo laughing at the look on your face over the sound of the water. Donnie turned back, using the momentum to pull you through the water in the opposite direction in a wide arc.

Finally, when your cheeks started aching, he relented, pulling you closer and letting you hook your hands on the lip of his shell over his shoulders. “Ah, there we go. Much better.” When you raised your brows at him, be smiled softly. “Ready to go again?”

They switched from letting you cling to them, to staying just out of reach, forcing you to follow in their wake as they swam close enough to nudge you back up above the surface every time you dipped under.

You tired out quickly however, dipped more and more under the water, until something smooth touched your knee and you realized Raph was coming up next to you.

“Grab on, princess, let’s ditch school.” His low baritone was pitched to a rumble, clearly goading, and you wasted no time lunging for the top ridge of his shell. He sent a well aimed squirt of water directly towards Leo’s face before he dipped back below the surface, giving you time to take a deep breath before he whisked you away.

Raph swam between columns, surfacing in timely intervals so you could take a breath until you were both quite away from the others. Then, he switched to floating along the surface, masked head just above the water enough to hear you speak.

“How long can you stay under?” You asked, leaning your weight fully against him and letting your arms trail in the water.

“Longer than you, doll face.” You snorted at the non-answer, relaxing back against him.

“Hey guys! I’m gonna cycle the lights!” Donnie’s voice echoed through the cistern, seconds before the sound of a large switch being flipped, and half the lights went out.

“Stay up on my shell.” Raph warned. “I see pretty good in the dark, but no point in tempting fate with how tired you are.”

You gripped the edge of his shell again, pulling yourself further out of the water.

“Ok! Check this out!”

Another switch, and the lights slowly flickered back to life, much softer and in different colors. You chuckled as blue, red, orange and purple flashed in the water below, the lights along the ceiling dimming further.

“Nice!” You called out to Donnie, before leaning back down to lay against Raph, watching as the water changed the tone of your skin color as you trailed your arms through it again.

“Damn, Don, that’s pretty cool.” Raph sunk his head under for a minute, before he tapped your leg, prompting you to hold onto him once again and take a deep breath.

He pulled you deeper into the water this time, turning slightly so you could take in the way the lights played across the surface above you. Eventually though, you reached forward to tap his shoulder, and he quickly swam back up. You broke the surface with a loud gasp and a stream of mist as Raph cleared his nostrils.

The sight made you cackle before groaning in disgust as the mist swept back towards you. “Ewwwww!”

“You two ok over there?” Leo’s voice echoed in the gloom, and you stifled the amusement rising up your throat as Raph started swimming in the opposite direction.

“Fine, Fearless! Don’t mother hen us.”

“You’re like- like a giant-”

“You finish that sentence, sweetheart, and I’ll dump you back with Mr. schoolmarm over there.”

You hid your chuckle against the surface of his shell, almost jumping at the rumble he gave back. Peering over the edge, you watched the water ripple outwards, before the sound in Raph’s chest deepened and the water started hopping around you both, droplets seemingly suspended in mid air, growing taller the louder he got. The sound rattled your chest, your bones, your skin numbing where it was pressed against the slope of his shell.

“Raph,” you reached out, laid your palm flat against the water and let the vibrations tickle your skin. Your voice sounded as if you were talking into a fan. “What is this? How are you doing that?”

“Eh?” A dip in the sound, as he blinked up at you, and you got the distinct impression he was scrambling to answer. “Oh, don’t worry about that, sweetheart. It’s a turtle thing.”

“Hmmmm. Hey Donnie!” You cupped your hands, sitting up so the call would echo more.

“Shit.” Raph bolted, and you had to scramble for a hold, cackling madly as he took off in the water, determined to outrun his brothers long enough for you to forget asking his genius brother for an explanation.

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milky-aeons · 8 months

Text

— BY A COMMANDER’S SIDE

౨ৎ . . . even though you may not always be by his side, there are multiple ways you and ARMIN ARLERT express your love for each other.

warnings: sexual content, memories of war, ptsd, marriage, pregnancy, mdni, w.c 845

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ tenerife sea — ed sheeran ꒱ ˎˊ-

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who was, at first, not very forthcoming about his feelings towards you. Who allowed them to balloon into something monstrous, something that wouldn't let his eyes leave you no matter where you came or when you went.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who mustered up the courage to ask you on a date after weeks of deliberation. That mind of his really was a double-edged sword, having the ability to lead squadrons to victory but crumbled when he looked into your eyes and became so adorably tongue-tied.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who, on the day of your wedding, wore a crown of flowers in her hair and jewellery made from emerald sea-glass. Who kept the jewellery on that night you spent together, the smooth stone sliding over your bouncing breasts as you rode him into ecstasy.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who held him tight on those nights he couldn't sleep. When the haunting echoes of war visited him instead of dreams. Who cradled him against your chest and carded through his golden hair, humming to him a song from your childhood, until his tense shoulder muscles smoothened down and he took more even, slumbering breaths.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who was always phenomenal when it came to choosing gifts. Whether they be for special occasions like your one year anniversary — when he surprised you with that delicate little music box specially crafted to play that tune, the one you always sung to him — or little delicates he brought home after a long day's work. Chocolates, flowers, books from the Capital where he conducted the duties of Commander.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would know immediately when your husband has had a taxing day. When he'd come through the door of the little town house you shared — his eyes shadowed, his hair mused from where he ruffled at it. You would go to him and place longer, sweeter kisses against his lips. You would instruct him to sit in the kitchen so you could brew him some tea, so you could take your fingers to his temples and draw soothing little circles.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who brought you to the beach on late summer's nights. Who would be mysterious and playful with his little secret, ushering you out of the house when you least expected it. Of course, he had the charade planned right down to the finer details; the standing wax candles in the sand, the blanket, the bottle of fine Mitras wine and two polished glasses waiting to be drunk.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who was reserved with his desires, and yet eager to please you at the same time. Who would murmur hot and heady into your ear; where do you need it, love? Does it feel good when I do this? Tell me what you need, let me please you. Who had years of power in his honed abdomen muscles and thighs as he would use them to thrust into you without conviction. Who would relish in the way you called out his name as your walls clenched around him, undoing him by the very seams.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who gave him a small clothed package unannounced one day. Watchful as he undid the layers with those gorgeous blue eyes wide and curious. Who did not take long to understand what the gift meant — a little wooden horse and a hat that would be much too small for him. He had stood, unbelieving, his eyes shining with tears, and picked you up in a hug that stole the air from your lungs and spun you round, round, round.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who lay beside your curved belly swollen with life and read to them. About fields of fire, endless seas of ice, vast rivers of colour in the night sky. Who would place kisses to your unborn child, who would place kisses on the back of your hand and tell you how much he loved you.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who cooked with you on the days he had been spared from his military duties. Who would lift your beautiful child up into the air and make them giggle as you stirred the pot. Who would come up behind you and encircle you in his strong arms, placing a quick, chaste kiss on your temple.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who was cunning with him, adoring the blush that still coloured your husbands cheeks when you did something daring. You would seek him out on late nights in the study as he poured over reports by lamplight. Quietly, you would slip your nightdress down from your shoulders and let it fall to a pool at your feet. It always made your pulse flutter, the way he looked at you, like a man strangled. Like a man so madly and irrevocably in love.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍, who, before he left every morning and before he closed his eyes at night, would mutter the same exact words;

"I love you, my moon and stars."

: ̗̀➛ 𝐘𝐎𝐔, who would murmur right back;

"And I love you too, my entire night sky."

#attack on titan #aot #aot fanfiction #armin arlert #armin x reader #armin arlet x reader #armin arlert fluff #armin arlet smut #armin arlet headcanons #i was feeling very big feelings for this man tonight #i love him too much #🪄— milky writes #headers by firefly graphics! <3 #‼️ — spoilers #💓 — thump

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 2 years

Text

Disarmed | Bucky Barnes x Reader

After the events of the GOTG holiday special, I think we all know where this came from and where it's going...

I have not been able to stop thinking about how this actually went down for Bucky. And it makes me sad.

Warnings: violence, injuries, pain, blood, Bucky's arm, home invasion

No answer followed your knocking. Just silence. No movement from inside the apartment.

Another round of knocks echoed through the quiet hall. Again, silence.

“Buck? It’s me…”

You leaned against the door, listening for any sign of life. And finally, soft steps made their way in your direction. A deep sigh came from behind the wood.

Checking in on Bucky like this always made you feel like a bit of a bother. You never wanted to irritate him or make him feel like a child. But you liked knowing he was alright. And he never seemed to mind. He even welcomed your unannounced drop-ins. Bucky liked knowing that someone- anyone- cared about him. He just couldn’t believe you, of all people, were that ‘someone’.

The metallic rattling sound of Bucky undoing his door’s chain brought a smile to your face. Sure, he’d gone radio silent. He’d ignored your texts and calls all day and skipped out on your lunch plans. But he had a lot on his plate. And even as he worked through his issues and eliminated some of his mental load, more problems often materialized out of nowhere. And so, you granted him grace. You didn’t chastise him or nag him for drawing in on himself. He was doing his very best, and you only wanted to help.

Bucky tentatively pulled open the door a sliver, granting you a view of only half his body. He looked tired, dejected. But he smiled when he saw you- he couldn’t help it. “Hey, doll…”

“Hey, I was-” You noticed a large scrape running the length of his arm, a bruise resting below his eye. “Woah- what happened? I just saw you yesterday…” Anxiety flooded your system- he was okay less than twenty-four hours ago. How did this happen? And when?

The day before, Bucky spent his afternoon and most of his evening at your place. The two of you watched movies together and ordered take out. It was, by all definitions, a perfect day.

And you were no stranger to Bucky’s injuries. He always came home from missions looking worse for wear- but he was supposed to be safe here. He didn’t just return from a long stint at a Hydra base or a fight with the flag smashers. He was home. And he wasn’t supposed to get hurt.

A deep sigh deflated Bucky’s chest and pulled his head down. And you realized why he flaked on your plans. But the issue presented a double-edged sword. He knew that by telling you he was hurt would only serve to make you worry about his latest injuries that seemed to materialize overnight. But leaving you in the dark didn’t save you- only delayed the inevitable. In the end, he defaulted to his factory setting. He withdrew and fell silent, deciding to deal on his own.

But that couldn’t stop you.

Finally, he dragged his gaze up to yours. A few broken blood vessels shot red webs through the whites of his eyes. He looked broken. “Um, could you-” He rephrased, “do you want to come in?” He didn’t like asking you for things. Ever. Though he knew you’d do anything for him, he didn’t like how it felt. He always said it seemed like he was taking advantage of your kindness- which you told him was impossible.

Without hesitation, you nodded. He opened the door and allowed you entrance, immediately locking it behind you. He turned the deadbolt and secured the chain before resting his forehead against the wood. And as he rested there, he gave you a view of his back. Clearly, something violent happened in the eighteen hours since you’d last seen him.

Large bruises streaked his skin. The deep purples and blues accompanied red gashes and scrapes littering his shoulders. Dried blood lay under his nails. A wince accompanied every inhale.

“Buck, I don’t understand- what happened to you?”

He took one last moment to himself before facing you. And as he turned, you saw it: a brutal wound splashed across his chest. Its maroons and crimsons radiated from a central, bloody point, splaying outward. The skin looked raw, torched. Painful. It leaked blood with every movement, every breath. You’d never seen anything like it.

But as severe as the wound on his chest was, something else caught your eye. Or, the lack of thereof.

“Wait. Where’s…” you scanned the room but came up empty. “Where’s your arm?”

Bucky wasn’t comfortable without it, not yet. And though it wasn’t his favorite part of the body he called his, it at least provided a sense of security. His arm was strong, fast. It could protect him when danger came calling. And so, he tolerated it for the purpose it served. Never once had he taken it off- not since T’Challa and Shuri presented it to him. And yet, he stood before you, his vibranium arm missing.

“Someone, um…” His eyes took on a far away, hollow quality. “Someone broke in last night.”

You were on him in seconds, “What?”

Everything in you wanted to hold him close, but the angry wound on his chest said otherwise. And so, you opted to hold his hand.

“I guess ‘broke in’ is the wrong phrase,” he said. “The door- it was still locked. I don’t know how they got in. But they did.” He looked sad. Scared. Confused. He didn’t deserve to feel this way- especially not in his own home. Each shaky breath pushed more blood from his wound, sending red streaks dripping down his body.

“Shit, Buck. You’re really bleeding-”

Bucky stared down at the bloodbath spilling from his chest. Something about the way he regarded his wound was too casual, too nonchalant. “Yeah. It’s been doing that.” He seemed almost distracted, like he was too caught up in the previous night’s events to really notice his injury.

“Okay, can I- let’s get this cleaned up, alright?”

Bucky gave a small shake of his head, “That’s okay, doll. You don’t have to.”

“Hey,” you gave his hand a squeeze, “Let me take care of you.”

With Bucky’s permission, you led him down the hall to the bathroom. Never once did his hand leave yours. If anything, he tightened his grip as the seconds passed. He was desperate for you- for the one person he felt safe with. He wondered how you always knew when he needed you- how you always knew what he needed.

But more often, he wondered why you helped him. Why you did so much for him. Why you treated him with such kindness. He sometimes got it in his mind to ask why you did the things you did- but he knew better than to make you question it. He feared that, if you thought about it too long, you’d realize you didn’t want to be around him anymore. And while he wanted to free you of his burden, he’d miss you too much to let you go.

He took a seat on the edge of the tub like you asked and watched you unearth the first aid kit from under his sink. It was the same kit you put together and made him promise to hang on to. It had everything he’d need to tend to his wounds if you were ever unavailable. But thus far, you always found a way to be there, to take care of him.

He often felt like he was using you. Like you did so much for him without asking for anything in return. Every time you stitched him up or stopped him from bleeding out, guilt seeped into his bones. But you assured him, time and time again, that you helped him because you wanted to. Because you cared. Because you’d rather die than let him think he was alone.

“Jesus. Is this…” You carefully examined the injury to Bucky’s chest, “is this a burn?”

Bucky shrugged, but the motion only brought him more pain. “I’m not sure. The whole thing was… weird.”

With gentle hands, you cleaned the blood from his skin. He winced with each swipe of gauze. And while you held pressure to the spot that refused to stop bleeding, you asked for details.

Bucky’s jaw tensed. “Everything was normal. I double checked that the door was locked. I texted you goodnight. I went to bed.” He traveled back to the night before, recalling the strange events as they unfolded. “The sound of footsteps woke me up. I thought it was my neighbor coming home from the bar again. But the sound was outside my bedroom door- right outside my bedroom door. And then someone was in my room. I saw their silhouette standing over my bed.”

Your heart began to race as though it were happening in real time. “Who was it? Did you recognize them?”

He shook his head. “Whoever it was- they were fast. Strong. I don’t think…” He paused for a moment, his brow furrowing. “I don’t think they were human. Or at least, all human. I don’t think they were from earth at all. I mean, the weapon they had it was… I don’t know. I’d never seen anything like it before.” He relived the blast that struck his chest, the sizzling, searing agony that burned through him.

“Shit…” Knowing how scared he must’ve been made you nauseous. But you did your very best to keep your hands from shaking. “Did they- did they say what they wanted?”

Again, he shook his head. “They didn’t say why they were here- nothing about it made any sense, really. They didn’t threaten me. It didn’t even… it didn’t seem like they wanted me dead.”

You thanked the universe that Bucky’s assailant hadn’t come for his life. If you’d dropped by his apartment to find him cold and still, you would’ve joined him in the afterlife.

As you examined his wound once again, Bucky thought back on everyone he’d ever hurt, everyone he’d ever killed. He knew many of his victims didn’t deserve to die. He knew they had families and friends who wanted revenge. If anyone ever came for him, he assumed it would be a vengeful loved one out for his head. But this was different.

“They didn’t seem like they wanted to kill me,” he said after a while. “They didn’t even really try to kill me.”

“Then what’s all this about?” you asked, motioning toward the massive wound on his chest.

“I mean… they could’ve shot me in the head.”

You cringed at the thought. Only a few hours ago, Bucky could’ve so easily been taken from you. And you wouldn’t have even known he was in danger.

“The entire time we were fighting, they were going for my arm.” He shuddered. “I think they got fed up after a while- that’s when they shot me. Almost like they didn’t want to hurt me but had no choice. And while I was on the ground, writhing in pain, they tore it off.”

Your eyes widened, “what?”

“Like I said… whoever it was, they were strong. They didn’t disable the mechanism like Ayo- they ripped it off.”

None of it made any sense. The locked door, leaving Bucky alive, stealing his arm- it was beyond strange. And in any other circumstance, you would’ve attempted to put the pieces together. You would’ve tried to solve the puzzle. But that part didn’t matter. What mattered was Bucky.

He lost his arm in the fall all those years ago. He bled in the snow for what felt like years, alone and scared. Hydra removed what remained of his joint without compassion and replaced it with metal. And then, when he was finally free, Tony brutally destroyed his new arm. Robbed him once again of a piece of himself. Though, part of him was happy to be free of the silver and red prosthetic designed by Hydra. He welcomed the sleek black and gold upgrade Shuri so kindly provided.

And now, it was gone.

He'd been through enough. His sense of self stripped away again and again. His bodily autonomy decimated. And he’d worked so hard to make progress. He was trying. He was working on himself, on healing his trauma. And just as things seemed to take a positive turn, yet another nightmare unfolded.

With his permission, you used your free hand to assess where his arm used to be. The attachment site was still in place, but the skin around it was angry. Red. Swollen. Dried blood crusted around the metal plate. You wondered how much pain a body could take.

“Does it hurt?”

He nodded. And your heart fell to pieces.

“What did you-” You forced yourself to stay strong, “what did you do after they um, took it?”

“I was kind of in shock…” he said. “I didn’t know what to do. Whoever it was seemed to vanish. And I,” he took a breath. “I couldn’t just go back to sleep, you know?” He sat quiet for a moment, disappearing to the previous night’s utter horror. “I didn’t feel safe after that.”

You cursed whoever did this to him. Only recently did he start successfully sleeping through the night. His nightmares dwindled and he was finally getting the rest he so desperately needed. And his assailant robbed him of that.

He shrugged, wincing once again. “I just went and sat in the living room for the rest of the night. I left the lights on… I couldn’t imagine turning them off. I knew I’d see their silhouette again.”

You didn’t know what to say. You wished he’d called. You wished he’d felt comfortable enough asking for help. But that was still an uphill battle and calling in the middle of the night wasn’t something he was okay with. If you called him at three in the morning, he’d answer without hesitation. He’d never see it as a bother or a burden; if you needed him, he’d be there. But the reverse was different. He saw himself as only a burden- who was he to wake you in the middle of the night? Who was he to disturb your sleep and dump his problems on you?

“Buck, I’m so…” you didn’t know how to make it better. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. You don’t deserve this- you don’t deserve any of the shit that’s happened to you.”

He flashed you a sad smile and a quiet “thanks”.

“And I know what you’re gonna say, but… you know I’m always here for you-”

“Doll, I can’t-”

“I don’t care what time it is, Buck. I don’t care what I’m doing. If you need me, I’m here. End of story.”

He simply brought his hand to your cheek and swept his thumb over your skin. You were so good to him- too good to him.

“All I ever want to do is be there for you. No matter what that means.”

Bucky averted his gaze. He sometimes didn’t know how to react to kindness, to such direct warmth. It almost made him bashful to have someone care for him so deeply.

“Um, this is finally done bleeding,” you said, pulling the gauze from his chest. “I’m gonna cover it. And then I’m gonna clean your shoulder- only if that’s okay.” The only person allowed to touch Bucky was you. And even then, getting to that point had been a long journey. Building that trust, that feeling of safety took care and thought. And you never wanted to overstep. He knew he could change his boundaries whenever he wanted, could revoke his consent without consequence. But you still reminded him every now and then, never allowing him to forget.

“I’d really appreciate that. Thank you.”

As carefully as you could, you covered the strange blast-injury on his chest. And when satisfied with its condition, you moved on to his shoulder. After it’s decades of abuse, this tissue required extra care. Extra gentleness. You worked slowly and cautiously, removing the blood from his scarred skin.

An overwhelming sense of vulnerability engulfed Bucky. No one ever got this up close and personal with his marred flesh. It made him nervous. “Hey, I’m really sorry I ditched you today…” he said, distracting you from his scars. “I knew we had plans, but I wasn’t-”

You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, quieting him. “Please don’t apologize. I know you’re doing your best- and you had a more than good enough reason not to meet me for chicken and waffles.”

He let a sad smile break through his downtrodden expression. “I knew this apartment was a shit hole,” he said, “but I never thought someone would break in to steal my arm. You know?”

You nodded. “I don’t think anyone could’ve expected that.”

With Bucky’s wounds cleaned and covered, you finally let your shoulders relax a bit. The tightness in your chest diminished and your muscles let go of a fraction of tension. But you still worried about him. You knew he’d never sleep again- not in this apartment, at least. His sense of security was gone. Shattered. And without his arm, you knew he’d feel vulnerable. On edge. Any sliver of peace he’d found disintegrated before his very eyes.

You feared making him uncomfortable, but the words slipped past your lips before you had the chance to second guess yourself. “Hey… do you wanna come stay at my place?” you asked, “I know you probably aren’t looking forward to spending much time here after what happened, and-”

Bucky waved you off with an overly casual smile. “No, no, that’s okay, doll. I’m fine here.”

You gave him a stern look, “Buck, I know you. Please, just come stay with me.”

He chewed on the inside of his cheek- this crossed a line. He couldn’t invade your space like that. He couldn’t infect your life with his baggage. And if he feared being a burden before, it was nothing compared to the feeling creeping into his chest. “You’re sweet, but you don’t have to do that-”

“I want to,” you said. “Just come crash at my place for a while.”

He thought it over for a long, quiet moment. More than anything, he wanted to escape his apartment and seek refuge with you. Any sense of safety he’d felt in this space was gone, and he never felt safer than he did at yours. But he couldn’t impose like that, though. He couldn’t invade your privacy.

“Buck, come on. Do you wanna come stay with me?”

He nodded.

You cupped his face, “Then come! Stay long as you want.”

He opened his mouth to thank you for your kindness, but you cut him off.

“Hang on- to clarify, I’m not saying ‘stay as long as you think is appropriate or polite’. I’m saying, ‘stay as long as you want’.” You eyed him with a stern expression, “Don’t just stay one night and then come back here because you think you’re a burden. Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Good.” With your help, Bucky got to his feet. “Now, let’s pack you a bag and get you outta here.”

Bucky followed one pace behind you as you headed for his bedroom. He couldn’t believe he had a safety net. A kind, caring person who wanted only good things for him. He’d easily grown smitten with you only a few days after meeting you, and witnessing your capacity for compassion won him over. But truth be told, it wasn’t about the things you did for him. Or the nice things you said to him. You glowed from the inside, the warmth of your heart basking him in a comforting light. And though he’d, yet again, suffered a violation of his sense of self, he almost didn’t care. He didn’t belong to himself anymore, anyway. He belonged to you.

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