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#idk I’m just asking for patience
maxgicalgirl · 1 year
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Sometimes being allowed to talk about things I like is very hard ??? Because I’ve been so used to having to downplay my love for things to appease all the neurotypicals in my life that it’s almost like I’m out of practice. And then I find myself wanting to be in environments where I’m given explicit permission to love things unabashedly. And I’m still in an irrational headspace where I don’t feel safe letting loose and showing people how much I Love A Thing.
It’s been very isolating. I’m working on it but it’s hard.
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lesbiansanemi · 4 months
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I know people have always been weird with fic updates but I swear recently people have been even more impatient and weird about it. I get comments on fics that have been updated WITHIN A MONTH asking if it’s been abandoned or when it’s going to continue. Like…. My guy…. Idk where you’re from that fics are apparently getting updated like fucking daily but you need to chill
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mars-ipan · 1 year
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genuinely the smartest (and funniest) choice i ever made in junior high was completely ignoring people who tried to bully and/or annoy me
#i fucking slayed for that#i built the patience and skill for ignorance when in middle school these kids who would antagonize me on the bus learned my name#and so every day was ‘hey marley hey marley hey marley’ for the rest of the year#idk how the bus driver didn’t go crazy and kill them. anyways i got Really Good at tuning that out#and by the time i got to middle school i was a fucking expert#i’m not talking like ‘choosing not to respond/pretending i didn’t hear’ ignoring by the way#i was such a master that i was able to Not Percieve People.#there was a kid in my art class who just generally tried to be annoying#and every now and again i’d be the one he tried to annoy#and i literally for almost the entire year acted as though he did not exist#he waved his hand in front of my face. i kept drawing like it wasn’t there#he would poke and tap me. i would have swayed more in a gentle breeze#he would ask my friends (who i made aware of this plan of mine) things about me for ammunition#they would provide general info bc they knew it didn’t matter#my friends would tell me to look in the direction he was standing and vying for my attention from#i would look Through Him and go ‘i don’t see anything what are you guys talking about’#i think the evilest idea i ever had was to write like a fully formatted essay#like psychoanalyzing this kid and trying to guess at his psychological problems (a need for attention most likely resulting from a lack#of it at home)#but i thought ‘no that’s like actually mean’ and didn’t do it#BTW this only worked for me bc none of my harrassers in middle school were trying to physically hurt me#they just wanted to get a rise out of me. so i beat them at their own game#they wanted to take joy in my anger? fools. i would simply be amused by their inability to affect me#genuinely it is such a powerful thing. i wonder if i ever drove people insane#it’s why i take that approach to anon hate (although i do acknowledge its existence)#ooooh you want to hurt my feelings sooo bad. oh you refreshed the page waiting for my response#you care about me lmao. and all i care about is how funny that is#i grew up on looney tunes btw. so maybe this is just the bugs bunny strat. but it’s sooooo fun
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nellievances · 2 years
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my abusers are also popular people within their community (a community I left). its hard to explain that they're not *famous* but they have a substantial amount of influence over people that I'll never meet. they have enough influence to run me out of certain circles, but no regular person knows who they are.
I feel you. I'm sorry. wishing you the best <33
i pulled a very typical allie move here in that i kept this ask in my inbox for months selfishly because it was so helpful and healing to me, but i know i should publish it, so i’m doing it now.
it’s so fucking relieving to be seen in this way. trying to explain my abuser is “popular” or “famous” without them really being either has been so hard, and you’ve expertly managed to say it in a single ask, so thank you. it’s an incredibly isolating position to be in, and it’s a comfort to know someone else was in it with me. everything you said here is so painfully true and well articulated.
thank you for being able to put this to words. i’m so sorry that you’ve been put in a similar situation, and i send you all my love. i hope you are safe and doing well and that your abuser drops dead fucks off forever as soon as possible 💞
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icouldbeluckyagain · 2 years
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augustsails · 7 months
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I don’t posses the patience to spend hours on digital art, but I do (for some reason) possess the patience to edit videos for hours on end.
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captainfern · 3 months
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141Rugby!au [18+]
• Part Five - Perfect •
141 x fem!reader
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You've recently started a new job as a physiotherapist for an English Rugby Union team. It's your job to ensure that all the players are in top shape for upcoming games against other strong teams. This job is absolutely perfect for you: good pay, good hours, a fun and exciting atmosphere to be apart of. But there's just one thing you can't seem to understand– the same four players seem to need more attention than the rest.
chapter summary - rugby season is over, and the boys want to thank you for all your hard work lol.
rating - 18+
wordcount - 8.7k
chapter warnings - fem!reader, straight-up porn the slowburn has ignited baby, sharing <3 [4mx1f], unprotected piv, protected anal, oral [f!&m!receiving], m!masturbation, reader goes to paris lmao, voyeurism ig, praise, a lot of pet-names [baby, bonnie, love, sweetheart, etc], hella dirty talk, light overstimulation, multiple orgasms, spitting? cumplay? idk there's a lot of bodily fluids, price has a breeding kink and a sir kink, simon also has a breeding kink what a fucking surprise, gaz is a munch, johnny's just desperately horny, they work as a team but each get possessive in their own ways, um... that's it i think, oh strong language ofc
disclaimer - physiotherapist, or staff x player sexual relations are not allowed in the real world. but please keep in mind this is fanfiction. it's fake. if you have an issue with inappropriate relations with faculty, blurred morals [etc], then please do not read. additionally, reader be fucking in this series. all four. separately, and at once. it's not cheating, i promise. it's consensual sharing <3
see my rugby union introductory for definitions of rugby words
<- part four
hi !! i am very sorry this took so long for me to write for you guys, but thank you so much for your patience and your support. i appreciate it !! and fyi, this has not been edited or anything like that. i’m posting this shit raw lmao. enjoy and thank you for reading <3
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It was two weeks after Price had asked if you were free this weekend. You were free, and you met up with the boys for dinner. It was nice, polite, and you really got to know them all a lot better. But, undeniably, the sexual tension was through the roof.
If it had been any other day, you would've gone home with them. But you didn't. You had work bright and early the next day, and you knew for a fact you wouldn't have been able to walk.
But two weeks later, it was the night of the Premiership Rugby Awards. Perfect.
The event itself was almost simply a blur. Kyle and Johnny were both commended for their work on and off the rugby field, and you beamed from your spot at the support staff table, watching them congratulate each other, dressed impeccably in ridiculously attractive suits.
Price was nominated for captain of the year, and was runner-up. Still, his team whooped and cheered for him, and you did the same. You and the other supporting staff clapped and hollered as he received a small award, standing awkwardly on stage. At least he didn't have to speak. Walking back to his table, he caught your eye and smiled, winking as the small glass trophy glinted in the light. He held it aloft for you to see, a subtle gesture that made your tummy flip. You held up a thumbs-up for him.
Then, the award of the night, Player of the Year. Simon was nominated and, hardly any surprises there, he won. You resisted the urge to spring to your feet and join the audience in the rapturous applause as he made his way on stage.
He looked out of his depth as he approached the microphone. But, hey, at least he looked really fucking good in that suit. You sipped casually at your champagne through the entire night and listened to the rich baritone of his voice as he delivered his quick, simple speech. And, towards the end–
"A huge thank you, too, to my team's support staff, and especially our physiotherapist, who should be getting award considering she keeps the lot of us intact and puts up with us on a daily basis."
The crowd laughed at that, and you smiled bashfully. Even from across the room, you could feel Simon's eyes on you. And John's. And Johnny's and Kyle's. You took another swig of your beverage, pressing your thighs together beneath the table.
Oh yeah.
Tonight was the night.
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Hours later, you and Gaz stumbled through the door of Johnny and Simon's flat together. He had his hands on your waist, his chest glued to your back and his face buried deep into the crook of your neck. You giggled as he wrapped his arms further around you, your hands resting on his forearms as he slowly began sucking a kiss onto the curve of your neck.
Although no one was drunk, you and Gaz were definitely the tipsiest. The small amount of alcohol in your system was enough to flood you full of liquid courage as you squirmed in Gaz's hold, rubbing your arse back onto his very prominent erection in his suit trousers. He groaned into the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing against you, as the three others finally walked through the front door.
Johnny was the first to engage– his eyes lit up in excitement as he kicked his shoes off and hurried over to you and Gaz. You giggled again, smiling at his enthusiasm as he grasped your face in both of his hands and kissed you. You smiled into the kiss– messy with tongue and spit– and enjoyed the warmth of his hands against the side of your head. Gaz had backed himself against the wall, and he continued to suck a line of kisses over your neck as Johnny kissed you.
Simon and Price stood in the doorway, watching the way you were wedged between Johnny and Gaz. They exchanged a look, a knowing glint in their eyes, before they made their move.
Price lit up a cigar as Simon shrugged off his suit jacket, tossing it into the living room and hoping it landed across the couch. He was left in his white, form-fitting dress shirt. He began rolling up the sleeves as Price exhaled a puff of smoke into the air.
Johnny was still kissing you like his life depended on it, but one of his hands had travelled south, slowly beginning to peel away the straps of your dress. They fell down your shoulders, and Gaz helped push it down your arm, all the way until your breasts spilled out the front. Johnny broke the kiss and moaned loudly, his hands immediately shooting upwards to cup you, twisting your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You whined, arching against Gaz, whose hands travelled down your stomach and pushed your dress down at the same time.
Your dress dropped, pooling around your ankles, leaving you in just your underwear. You heard all four boys react in different ways to the almost dramatic reveal of your body– a subtle hitch of the breath from Simon and Price, and two very desperate whimpers from Gaz and Johnny.
Wordlessly, Gaz's hands skimmed lower. They passed gently over the soft mound of your tummy, rubbing gently just above the hemline of your underwear. He was less than a second away from pushing his fingertips inside when Simon approached; a looming shadow over the three of you intwined against the wall.
Gaz looked up, his mouth still pressed hot against the bare curve of your neck and shoulder. His lips glistened with saliva, and so did your skin. Johnny looked at Simon too, his hands still cupping both of your tits.
"Not here," Simon said softly. "Come on lads, be gentleman. Let's take our girl to bed."
You whined when Johnny stepped away, the warmth on your tits vanishing with him, your nipples hardening against the cool air in the flat. Even the warmth of Gaz disappeared too– he peeled himself away from you with one last cheeky kiss to the spot just below your ear. For a brief moment, you were alone– until Simon's hands were suddenly gripping the back of your thighs and he was hoisting you into his arms.
You yelped, arms circling the broad expanse of his shoulders as he held you to his chest, your nipples catching against the buttons of his dress shirt as you squirmed against him. You squirmed for two reasons: one being because of the shock of him carrying you; and two, the fact he was happily groping the soft flesh of your thighs as he began to climb the stairs.
"S'alright, pretty girl, I've got you," Simon murmured in your ear before kissing your cheek. With impressive strength– the strength that won him Player Of The Year– he carried you effortlessly to the top of the stairs, and then carried you all the way to what was presumably his bedroom. When he entered, Gaz, Johnny and Price weren't far behind, and he settled you gently on the edge of his bed. With one hand, he gently cupped your face. "You okay, doc? S'this what you want? All of us?"
You were nodding before he even finished his sentence, looking between the men in front of you with glimmering eyes. Of course this is what you wanted. This is what you have wanted for the past several months.
"If at any point you want us to stop, jus' say rugby," Simon said, a sternness in his tone that had your cunt leaking in your underwear. "We'll stop, okay? Promise me, doc. Promise us."
"I promise," you squeaked out. "I promise."
"Good girl..." Price uttered, leaning down from next to Simon and kissing you on the forehead. He stepped away before you could pull him into a proper kiss.
Instead, you reached up and pinched your fingers around one of the buttons on Simon's shirt, beginning to unbutton it. He chuckled lowly, his hand leaving your face to grab hold of your wrist.
"Not yet, love," he said softly, his tone putting you at ease as butterflies began filling your stomach. "We've got this all planned out, okay? You'll have me soon, but Gaz n' Johnny are gonna make you feel good first. Is that okay?"
His words, searching for your consent, made you whimper. You nodded, of course, whining a yes please as Simon stepped away. Your eyes found Gaz, who was already walking towards you, and you couldn't help but giggle when he got close and slotted his mouth to yours.
Gaz kissed you deeply, his tongue breaching the seam of your lips and licking against yours as his hands came to rest on your hips. With a little force, he pushed you up the bed– still kissing you– and lay you down on your back. Your hands found his shoulders– now bare of his suit– and your fingers flexed down the smooth planes of muscle. He groaned into your mouth, pulling back and dragging his lips down the curve of your jaw, beginning to suck even more kisses to the sensitive expanse of your throat.
"Such a pretty girl, bonnie..." Johnny approached, the bed sinking to his weight as he crawled alongside you. Immediately, he slipped his hands between you and Gaz and began pawing at your tits, rolling your nipples with the pads of his thumbs. Like Gaz, he had somehow stripped to his briefs between Simon putting you down onto the bed, and now. The hard imprint of his cock against his black underwear had you moaning, arching against Gaz– your clothed cunt rocking against his erection, making you moan even harder.
Johnny kissed you again as Gaz worked on peppering your entire body with kisses. He was now slapping Johnny's hands away from your tits so that he could take one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around you. Johnny broke the kiss with a saliva-soaked "th'fuck?" and a light frown. Gaz looked up at him challengingly as he pressed his tongue hot to your nipple– pulling a little whimper from you– and Johnny accepted his challenging stare. The Scot slinked down your body, not wasting any time with extra kisses– instead, he attached his mouth directly to your other breast, his teeth nipping the soft flesh.
Across the room, Simon and Price watched. They were a bit older, a bit more experienced, and had a bit more patience then the two players pinning you to the mattress currently. Although, Simon could feel his patience wearing thin. Your moans and whimpers were heavenly, and you looked absolutely stunning. He felt his cock twitching in his trousers, and kept his palm pressing heavily against it.
Price eyed his teammate and then offered him a puff of his cigar while Gaz and Johnny sucked and kissed your chest, their hands beginning to explore your almost naked body.
Simon accepted the cigar and took a long drag. Price huffed, smiling coyly when Simon returned the cigar. "Patience, Simon." It was said in a whisper, and Simon's response was a grunt and a subtle roll of his eyes. Yeah, he can be patient. Sure.
"Gaz, Johnny, fuck–" You whimpered, one of your hands cupping both Gaz and Johnny's heads. Gaz blinked up at you and was the first to detach his mouth, lips still shining with his saliva.
He moved down your body as Johnny continued his sucking– he had moved back to your neck, nipping at your collarbone now. Gaz settled himself between your legs, rubbing your thighs softly before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear. He searched your eyes for permission and when he found it, when you nodded and mouthed a desperate please, he carefully pulled your underwear down.
Instead of tossing them across the room like he usually would have done, he looked to his side and held them aloft, gesturing at the two men sitting on the couch in the corner of Simon's room.
Simon nodded, and snatched them up after Gaz threw them. His cock twitched in his trousers, painfully hard against the seams, as he felt the sheer dampness of your underwear and the expensive fabric against his hand. God, he wanted to wrap it around his cock and paint it white.
Gaz moaned loudly as he spread your legs, exposing your cunt to the shadowed lighting of Simon's room. Price and Simon's eyes were between your legs from across the room, and Price withheld a grunt in his throat, almost choking around an exhale of grey smoke. Like Simon, he left his cock twitching and straining in the confines of his trousers. There was a mutual competition that whoever gave in first and fucked their fist lost. There weren't any particular stakes. Not yet, anyway.
"Just as pretty as I remember," Gaz breathed, massaging your inner thighs. He watched slick dribble out of you and down the curve of your arse with a vulpine smile.
Above him, Johnny removed his mouth from your neck and you could feel how damp your skin was now. You wanted to turn your head to look at him, but you couldn't take your eyes off of Gaz.
The winger kneaded your thighs gently, massaging his fingers into the soft fat as he spread you out for him. His eyes, gleaming with excitement, were transfixed on the way your cunt fluttered, your swollen clit glistening between your folds. You watched him run the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip before he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to your pussy.
You gasped, chest heaving, eyes still on Gaz when he placed another kiss against you, as though he was kissing your cheek. His eyelashes fluttered and a deep moan rumbled from his chest. Quickly, he deepened the kiss until he was licking the point of his tongue through your folds and his nose was pressed flush to your clit.
"Oh, fuck–" you whimpered. Memories of the way Gaz ate you out last time flooded you, making your body heat up. He was so fucking good.
He looked up at you from between your legs, soft brown eyes staring into yours. They were still gleaming, crinkled at the edges as though he was smiling– smiling into your soaked cunt as he dragged his tongue through your folds and licked up as much of your arousal as he could. Cheeky little–
A hand grabbed your jaw and forced your head to the side. You parted your lips to gasp, but the sound was sucked from your mouth as Johnny smashed his mouth to yours.
He held your face firmly, whining loudly into the kiss as he licked his tongue against yours. His other hand was dipping into his briefs and pulling his achingly hard cock out. He fisted it, whining loudly again, and you couldn't help but smile.
Clearly, Simon found it amusing too.
"Gettin' desperate, are we, Johnny?" He mocked from across the room.
Johnny broke the kiss, panting against your mouth as he jerked his cock, his hand still holding your head in place. He whined softly when his fingertips ghosted the underside of his cockhead, and he breathed deeply in an attempt to bite back at Simon's remark.
"S'not fair..." He whined again, sounding more and more like a wounded puppy, or something else along those lines. "She's got such a pretty mouth an' s'not bein' used properly."
He kissed you deeply again, all spit and teeth and tongue. It was hard to keep up, the way Johnny was invading your space. Your brain was foggy, body on fire, only thinking about the men around you and, especially, the fact you were about to come.
You moaned into Johnny's mouth– both Price and Simon moaning in response as they palmed at their clothed hard-ons– as Gaz sucked your clit into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around the puffy bud, his top teeth just skimming it, before he was quickly dragging his mouth just that little bit lower so that he could stuff your leaking hole. He pushed his tongue in with a light moan, grinding his hips into the mattress as he did so. Your taste, your smell, your noises, everything was making him harder.
You managed to turn your head away from Johnny's mouth. He huffed, leaning his forehead against your temple, mouthing at your cheek and jaw with light puffs eliciting from his saliva-slick lips. He was still jerking himself off, his cock leaking pre-cum onto Simon's sheets.
"Kyle..." You moaned the winger's government name. "M'gonna– oh my god, oh my god–"
Gaz kept the thrusting of his tongue steady, humming against you as your legs shook within his grasp.
Johnny, the desperate man he was, pulled your mouth back to his, licking a stripe over your lips before muttering, "That's a good girl, bonnie. Come for us. Come n' then I'll– I'll stuff this pret– fuck, pretty mouth with my– ah– my cock." After uttering that against your lips, he was shoving his tongue back into your mouth.
Then, you came for the first time of the night.
The coil in your lower belly snapped and you moaned loudly against Johnny, back arching off of Simon's mattress as Gaz held your hips and thighs, pinning them as he licked you through your orgasm. His eyes were on you the entire time, watching as you unravelled while he licked up your release which dripped out of you and down his chin.
When Gaz pulled away, Johnny was manhandling you onto your hands and knees. You yelped, still fuzzy from your orgasm, as the Scot pulled you into position where your head was resting on one of his hairy thighs, your arse in the air.
"Need you," he muttered, pawing at the back of your neck while he stroked his cock and guided it towards your mouth. "Need you so fuckin' bad–"
"Slow down, Johnny." Simon growled from across the room.
Gaz laughed as he got up, not bothering to wipe the rivulets of your arousal that tracked down his chin and, now, down the column of his neck. He rolled his shoulders, easing the tension from laying on his front, before shucking down his briefs and shuffling back onto the bed.
"He's been waiting a long time for this, Simon," Gaz joked in the number eight's direction. "He knows our girl's been worth the wait."
Simon grunted, Price's cigar now between his lips. "Still doesn't mean he can throw her around like that."
"Simon–" Johnny gasped from the head of the bed. He was dragging the leaking, reddened tip of his cock against your lips, smearing his pre-cum over his saliva which already wet you. He looked over at his teammate. "Shut the fuck up."
Simon scowled. "Watch it–"
But Johnny wasn't listening anymore. Not when he eased his cock past your lips and into the warm, wet heat of your mouth. He moaned, really fucking loudly, as you hollowed your cheeks for him and took him further back in your throat. You withheld a gag, tears blotting the base of your vision as Johnny's cock nudged the back of your throat.
"JesusfuckingChrist," The Scot hissed, the hand on the back of your neck tightening so he could pull you closer towards him. Your nose rested in the coarse hair at the base of your cock, and you moaned quietly, eyes upwards and locked onto his. You could already feel him twitching in your mouth as you gently bobbed your head, a trickle of saliva being forced out from the corner of your mouth.
Meanwhile, Gaz was gripping his cock tightly at the base, his other hand squishing and squeezing at the fat of your arse and thighs. He was muttering something to himself, something you couldn't hear, but whatever it was made Soap chuckle above you.
"F'you like her arse so much, use it," Johnny joked, and you whined, your core fluttering.
Behind you, Gaz stopped muttering beneath his breath and released a breathy laugh, his hand holding one of your arsecheeks and pulling it gently to the side. "I'll need to stretch her out first..."
"We've got all night," Soap remarked, thrusting his hips and making you gag around him. A tear rolled down your cheek and you hummed out a whine at the way both of them were talking about you as if you weren't even there.
You couldn't see it, but Gaz smiled. He then vanished from behind you for a moment, before returning, popping the cap on the small bottle of lube and pouring a generous amount over two of his fingers. He then spread you again, pouring even more of the cool liquid directly onto your hole. And, for good measure, he let a glob of spit fall from his mouth and slide down your crack.
You moaned loudly around Johnny's cock as one of Kyle's fingers pressed against your hole, rubbing circles carefully while his other hand reached between your legs to rub a finger over your puffy clit. You moaned again, and the vibrations had Johnny whimpering quietly above you, hips bucking, the grip he had on the back of your neck tightening.
"Such a pretty mouth, such a pretty mouth," he chanted through his whining, eyes screwed shut and head tossed back as he continued to push and pull your head down his length.
Across the room, the sounds of your muffled moans and Johnny's whines, paired with the sight of Gaz spreading you open before him was enough– enough for him to hastily pull his cock out of his trousers and wrap it in your soaked underwear. He jerked his fist once, twice, three times before stopping, glancing over at Price who simply shook his head, chuckling.
"Soap," Price said after he had finished giving Simon an amused look. "Let our girl breath, yeah? Give her a break."
Your eyes rolled and you moaned loudly– not at Price's words, but at the feeling of Gaz pushing a thick finger into your arse, gently probing and stretching you open. You wondered if the light buzz of alcohol in your veins was making the sensations a whole lot more enjoyable.
Johnny whined. "But–"
"Pull your fuckin' cock out, Johnny," Simon hissed, resuming his hand movements, your underwear still wrapped around his dick.
Johnny whined once more, but pulled out like his captain and teammate said. He continued to hold the back of your neck, petting you gently as he slid his cock out of your mouth, strings of saliva connecting your lips and his shaft. He moaned at the sight, tempted to shove it back into the warmth of your mouth– but the burning sensation of Simon's eyes on him made him pause.
"This better fuckin' mean I get to fill her cunt," he grumbled, much to your amusement. You smiled up at him, and he smiled back, moving his other hand to cradle the side of your head.
Price grunted, and you broke eye contact with the scrum-half to look over at him and Simon on the couch. He too was pulling his hard cock out of his trousers and fisting it in his hand. The sheer size of the both of them made your core heat up all over again, butterflies returning to your stomach.
After a short moment, Gaz had two fingers inside you, scissoring you open while Johnny pet your face, staring down at you as you mouthed gently at his cock. You ran the tip of your tongue along the prominent vein on the underside, causing his entire body to wrack with shudders.
"Ready?" Gaz asked Soap, and the Scot looked away from you in the first time in about five minutes.
He nodded eagerly, a grin splitting across his face as he slid his hands beneath your armpits and hoisted you up onto your knees. You yelped, the action unexpected, and the sudden loss of Gaz's fingers from inside you making you feel empty, almost hollow. But, as Gaz split open a condom and rolled it onto his length, Soap's hands were all over you, and not once did you feel empty again.
"You alright, bonnie?" He asked, hands gripping your knees and spreading your legs apart so he could slot himself between them, his cock rutting through the folds of your pussy.
You momentarily lost your train of thought, your mouth dropping open and a small "uh..." dripping from it.
Price exhaled a plume of smoke around his words as he spoke to you. "Use your words, darling. S'alright if you want to stop."
Forcing your muddled mind away from the feeling of Soap's warm cock, you looked over at Simon and Price and shook your head, uttering out a string of "no, no, no."
"M'fine," you added for good measure. "Please don't stop."
As long as they had the green light, the lads weren't going to stop. Gaz had a large hand across one of your arsecheeks, holding it to the side as he guided the head of his cock to your stretched hole. Johnny waited patiently, his cockhead rubbing cruel circles against your swollen clit, not quite enough to give you proper stimulation. But, it was a pleasant distraction– a distraction from the initial stretch of Gaz carefully pushing his cock into you. Slow, slow, slow.
You released a shuddered gasp, head dropping forward to rest on Johnny's shoulder. Breathing laboured, you panted against his dewy skin as Gaz stopped, pulled out a centimetre, then pushed back in– over and over until his hips were wedged up right against your backside and he was dipping his mouth into the crook of your neck, breathing in your perfume.
"Good girl, baby..." He whispered, pressing a kiss to the pulse below your ear. "This okay?"
You nodded. "Yeah... it's okay."
"Tell me when you want me to move."
"Now," you said almost immediately, mind fuzzing over with pleasure. The pleasure of feeling full and hot and sweaty and completely fucked out. "Please move, Kyle, fuck–"
He did. He pulled out and pushed back in, ebbing like the tide with gentle thrusts that knocked the air out of your lungs. You cried out his name, head no longer resting on Johnny's shoulder, but leaning back against Gaz's.
Johnny couldn't wait any longer. The tip of his cock soon aligned with your leaking cunt, and he was pushing in just as Gaz pushed in as well. Both me released a guttural groan, their cock's only separated by a thin wall inside you.
But the noise you made was nothing short of pornographic– a high-pitched, breathy whine that was punched from the depth of your stomach. Your entire body fizzled, tingling with pleasure as both men used you at the same time, thrusting in and out at the same time. The intensity of it all had tears running down your cheeks, your chest tightening between breaths.
Soap's voice broke around a whimper. "You're so damn tight."
Gaz was next to speak. "Can't believe... can't believe we went so long without having you, eh, doc?"
The way they were talking to you was driving you crazy. Hell, the way they were moving against you was driving you crazy. You couldn't believe you went so long without letting them have you, either.
"Doing such a good job for Johnny and Kyle, sweetheart," Simon said, which you only heard vaguely, like an echo in a dark room. "Looking so fuckin' pretty taking both of their cocks. Doesn't she, lads?"
"Fuck, yeah–" Johnny moaned, not really listening, his eyes attached to the way his cock pistoned in and out of you.
Gaz was the same. Distracted. Too busy sucking wet kisses along the side of your neck. Too busy trying not to come straight away, the tight walls of your hole milking his cock with each upwards thrust. He did leave his trance-like state for a short period of time, enough to praise you and say your name in a breathless moan.
"Our good girl, doc. Y'just our good girl," he breathed against you. "Fuck– knew you'd be good. We just knew you'd be perfect."
That sentence alone had your stomach tightening with your next orgasm, thighs trembling and sweat building between your bodies. For a split second, you wondered what your electrolyte levels would be after this (the thought was wiped from your head when the head of Johnny's cock slammed up against your g-spot, making you mewl).
You struggled to keep your eyes open as your climax neared. Your senses were going into hyperdrive– the smells, the sounds, the everything was making you drunker than the alcohol you had already consumed earlier that night.
The smells of Soap and Gaz, their sweat and cologne, was like an aphrodisiac as they pinned you between their bodies, moving in tandem. The sounds of Johnny's moans and whimpers, and Gaz's breathless whines and grunts were driving you insane– as were the quiet groans coming from the couch across the room.
"Gaz... Johnny..." You mewled, body hot, clit throbbing. "I..."
You couldn't finish your sentence. Luckily, you didn't have too.
"Gonna come?" It was Price who put the words out into the open. "You gonna come, pretty girl? Go on. Tell 'em."
You repeated the first two words Price had said, following them with desperate moans of both Johnny and Kyle's names. Johnny's hands tightened on yours, slamming up into you while Kyle's were smoothing up and down your abdomen, hips grinding into your backside. The sensations threw you over the edge.
You came hard– both men caught off guard by the way your body tightened around them. Your head dropped back against Gaz's shoulder, and he kissed your cheek.
"Holy fuck," Johnny cursed, breathless. His chest was heaving, forehead glistening in a thin layer of sweat, and a slight tinge of red to his cheeks. Your cunt fluttered around the girth of him, all wet and warm and tight, causing his thrusts to falter, stutter, before he was coming inside you with no warning. "Holy fuck."
You whimpered, energy being sapped from your body at the feeling of him coming inside you while you were still coming down from your high. You could feel his cock twitching as he emptied himself up against your cervix, but you were distracted from the simple movement when he leaned forward and slotted his mouth against yours.
Soap kissed you exactly how he'd kissed you at the beginning of the night. Still full of passion and longing as the warm mass of his tongue swept over yours, slicking over the tops of your teeth. One of his hands found the back of your neck once more, and he held you to him while you kissed– all the while Gaz continued to rut gently into you, his own orgasm nearing.
"Baby, m'gonna pull out..." Gaz whispered into your ear, one of his hands kneading the flesh of your arse. "M'gonna pull out, take this fuckin' condom off, and come where you want me to come, m'kay?"
You forced your way out of Soap's searing kiss, turning your head so you could nod your acknowledgment to the winger behind you (luckily for you, he began kissing down your chest instead). Gaz did as he said and pulled out. He did so slowly, his hands rubbing your arse and hips the entire time. When his cock left you, you released a little whine, cool air seeming to fill you and make you shiver.
"You're okay, you're okay..." Gaz reappeared behind you after pulling his condom off, tying it and tossing it somewhere in the room (Simon had shot him a dirty look for that). One of his hands was on your hip again, his body melting into yours, his chest to your back. You could feel him fisting his cock behind you, the leaking tip smearing pre across the small of your back.
"Where d'you want me?" He asked you softly, and for a moment, it just felt as though you and him were the only ones in the room. If it wasn't for Soap sucking on your tits like a fucking maniac, the private intimacy between you and Kyle would've been believable.
To answer, you wiggled your hips against him, mumbling something along the lines of on me while trying to grab a fistful of Soap's mohawk and pull him away so you could arch forward. The Scot was stubborn, though, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth with a sparkle in his eyes.
Simon helped you out.
"Johnny, don't fuckin' push it," he growled and that was the first time you had heard him speak in a while.
You looked over to him, finding that he was still languidly fisting his cock; the tip red and angry, leaking pearl after pearl of precum. He was edging himself. Your stomach flipped with arousal, pussy fluttering.
Johnny backed off like a kicked dog, pouting as he shuffled to the edge of the bed. Gaz smiled, winking at his Scottish teammate as he placed a hand to the small of your back and guided you onto your knees and elbows, creating a perfect arch in your back and a perfect view of your arse for him. Then, he quickened the pace of his wrist, stroking his cock for a few seconds before he was painting your arse white.
Like Soap, Gaz moaned loudly when he came. The sound dissolved into a low whine as he fucked his fist through it, not stopping until he ran dry and his cock only just softened beneath his grip.
A few moments passed before you flattened yourself across the bed, laying on your stomach with exhaustion rolling over your body in waves. Johnny was the first to up and leave, placing a kiss to the crown of your head before he was moving across the room. Gaz stayed with you, his hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back.
"Doing so well for us," he told you. "D'you need anything? Water?"
You nodded and mere seconds later, Johnny was offering you a glass of cold water. You sat up to drink it, Gaz's cum smearing against Simon's sheets. You were hyperaware of Soap's cum dripping out of you and onto the sheets too. It made goosebumps bloom up your arms and legs, a shiver crawling through you.
Once you had drunken, the lads switched places like they had been practising.
Johnny and Gaz slipped away with one more kiss each to your lips, before two larger, broader figures were blocking your vision. Both Price and Simon had stripped now, all big chests and soft stomachs and hard cocks. It made you salivate.
"Just a bit longer, sweetheart, then you can have a nice break," Price cooed, walking up to the edge of the bed and placing his hand beneath your chin, gripping your jaw and angling your eyes up to him. While he did that, Simon slipped onto the bed behind you, the mattress dipping under his weight, and slotted himself up against you. Price squeezed your jaw once. "You feeling okay?"
You nodded, but something inside you prompted you to respond with a sultry "Yes, sir" while you stared up at him. A coy smile split along his face and before long, he was leaning down to kiss you. He tasted of smoke and expensive liquor as he kissed you, his tongue immediately invading your mouth.
"You want her first?" Simon asked, and you jolted in fright, almost forgetting he was right behind you.
John broke the kiss and, still holding your jaw, looked over at Simon and shook his head.
"You can go first."
The arrangement was set.
Simon pulled you away from John, and you couldn't help but yelp at the way he manhandled you onto your stomach. Then, he grabbed your hips and pulled you back onto your knees, your breasts and arms resting against the bed. The captain had crawled onto the bed and, after tossing aside Simon's pillows, settled himself at the head of the bed, leaning against the headboard. He spread his legs, patting one of his thick thighs invitingly.
Simon acted for you– pushing you up the bed and pushing another startled yelp from you. Your head came to rest against the warm, solid mass of Price's thigh, and his hand was put to work atop your head, petting you as though you were a cat.
Behind you, the number eight was nudging your legs apart with his knee, his large body doubling over yours as he slotted his hips against your arse, his achingly hard cock brushing over your soaked folds. You keened, moaning lightly as the tip of his cock nudged your clit, the thick weight of him smearing your and Johnny's cum up and down your slit. It made you shiver again.
"You don't have to do anything, okay, sweetheart?" Price uttered above you, still petting your head. His other hand gripped the base of his cock tightly. You watched a dribble of precum leak down the underside of it. "You're just going to lay there and be a good girl for me and Simon, okay? Be a good girl and take everything we give you."
At the completion of the captain's sentence, Simon notched the head of his cock at your hole. Your breath hitched.
Price cooed down at you. "S'alright... that's a good girl, just take it."
Simon eased into you, his cock splitting you open more than Soap's had. He was a bit thicker, and the stretch of it all had a moan catching in your throat. It stayed there until Simon bottomed out– the sound filtering from your mouth sounding like something out of a low-budget porno (it made Price's cock twitch, though).
"Fuck," you heard Simon hiss behind you. "S'a tight fuckin' pussy."
"Told you."
"Shut the fuck up, Johnny." Simon almost growled as he pulled out and then slammed back into you.
You cried out, sobbing a "S-Simon!" as his pace increased, his thrusts hitting deeper and deeper each time. You could feel the ruddy tip of him hitting the plug of your cervix, his girth stretching you open in such a way that you wondered whether you'd be able to walk tomorrow.
Probably not.
You realised both Gaz and Soap were sitting on the couch, and without even turning your head, you knew they'd be watching with their cock in hand. The intensity of the entire situation was otherworldly, and most definitely contributing to the fast rate at which your orgasm was approaching.
The sound of Ghost's cock moving in and out of you was lewd and wet. Wet shlick, shlick, shlick's and the slapping sound of skin-on-skin echoed throughout Simon's room, as well as the occasional creak of the bedframe and the hushed sounds of pleasure coming from the couch.
Bent over you, Simon was huffing and grunting. Deep groans left his parted lips periodically as he fought off his orgasm. God, the second he shoved his cock into the tight clutch of your cunt he wanted to come. But not yet. Not fucking yet.
"S'that feelin' good, pretty girl?" He asked you, his voice swimming through your head.
"Yes–!" You cried, one hand holding Price's wrist (his hand was still on your head), the other fisting the bedsheets beside Price's other leg.
"Yeah? You like being fucked by all four of us, hm? Like being stuffed full, don't you?" He didn't let you answer. He continued, "O'course you do, baby. 'Course you do. Such a needy little pussy... She just loves gettin' filled up, I can feel it."
Words evaded you. So you nodded. You nodded against Price's thigh, tears smearing against his hairy skin. He petted you gently, shushing you as Simon continued to rut into you, his entire body shaking with restraint. He needed you to come first.
"Want you to come for me," Simon whispered to you. "Want you to come all over my cock."
Then, one of his hands found your clit, and you were a goner. He rubbed three rough shapes across the swollen bud, and you were coming with his name falling from your lips.
You squeezed him tight, gushing around him as pleasure overtook you. The entire time you spasmed, your cunt leaking out around his cock, John held you against the mass of his thigh, petting you and massaging down your neck. You heard the odd "good girl" being whispered from him.
Simon praised you in similar fashion. "Good girl. Good fucking girl. My good girl."
The last part was whispered so quietly that you were sure no one else heard it but you. He said it as he curled over you, his chin against your shoulder, his massive arms holding himself over you as he fucked you hard.
"My perfect girl," he whispered again. Only to you. Then, it was like something went off in his brain. He released a low growl, something like a groan but much deeper. "M'gonna come."
"S'about fuckin' time," John joked, but Simon didn't find it at all funny. He ignored his captain.
His attention was only on you.
"M'gonna come right up in here, love." Simon held himself up with one arm, his other arm winding beneath you to grab hold of your tummy. He gripped it, kneading it, before pushing against it until you let out a small moan, the pressure making you dizzy. "M'gonna fill this pretty tummy right up. Fuckin' breed you right in front of the boys."
You were definitely drooling against Price's thigh.
With one last grinding thrust– and just as overstimulation crept into your head– Simon came. He came with a grunt and a quiet moan of your name, his cock right up against your womb as he emptied himself, filling you hot.
The heat made you moan, as well as the image of his cum mixing with Soap's and filling your womb.
What the hell–
The number eight didn't pull out straight away. He stilled above you, hips flush to your arse and his half-hard cock still plugging his cum inside you. Against Price's thigh, you mewled tiredly, shuffling your backside against the solid form of Simon behind you, your hands now travelling along the captain's legs.
Finally, Simon extracted his body from yours, but remained inside you. He kneeled, his large hands travelling down your back before finding your arse. He chuckled to himself, dragging his fingers through Gaz's load that painted you. With his pointer finger, he drew a smeared SR against your left arsecheek.
"Simon, gross," You complained, listening to the way he chuckled darkly to himself. You couldn't see him from your angle, but you knew he was probably grinning too.
Just like in the small period of grace between Soap and Gaz, and Simon and Price, you were offered water, with each man waiting patiently until you had finished the glass. While you drank, the four pairs of eyes on you made your stomach tighten.
This was all so foreign. But, god, you fucking loved it.
When the glass of water was placed soundly on the bedside table, Price slid down from the top of the bed and kneeled towards the end. He held out a hand to you, and you accepted, enabling him to gently lay you down with your head in the pillows (Simon had ordered Soap to pick them off the floor from when Price tossed them).
"Comfortable?" Price asked you, running his warm hands up and down your sides before slowly, slowly parting your legs and exposing your cunt to him.
You nodded. "Yes, sir."
He huffed proudly at that, a small smile surfacing. His hands shifted, and he brushed his knuckles along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.
Beside you, the bed dipped. Simon kneeled on the floor next to the bed, his upper body leaning against the mattress. It was the perfect angle to cradle your face in his hands and wipe the steadily drying streaks of tears and saliva from your skin with his fingers.
Fingers, you realised, had not been cleaned. Fingers that still trekked a milky stripe of Gaz over your face.
You grimaced, and by the way Ghost was biting his lip to hide a smile, he knew what the grimace was for.
"S'a matter, pretty girl? S'just a bit a'cum," he teased lowly, and you had half the mind to smack his hand away. But his next words had you forgiving the action– the cheeky bastard. "Look so pretty covered in us, don't you?"
Kneeling between your legs, Price grunted his agreement with his teammate. He was fisting his cock, watching Simon and Soap's loads dribble out of you.
Pushing his hips forward, he slowly ran the head of his cock up your slit, making a mess of you. You whined, hands holding one of Simon's, as Price repeated the action a couple of times, eyes transfixed.
When Price's eyes did finally find yours, they were glazed, his pupils blown.
"Beg for it, sweetheart," he uttered, voice hoarse. "Beg for my cock."
You did. You started with a few desperate please's and several different curse words when you struggled to find the right things to say. But eventually, with your heart hammering against your ribcage and your clit pulsing in tandem with it, you begged out a yearning, "Please, sir, please– need your cock so bad. Please, captain–"
The captain hummed, pleased, as he thrusted himself into you without another warning. You cried out, arching off the bed as your cunt stretched around him, the tip of him knocking up against the plug of your womb just like Simon's had. It all felt so good you wanted to cry.
"That's it..." Simon whispered to you, nuzzling the side of your head as Price set his pace.
He held your legs either side of him as he fucked you, shunting your body against the mattress again and again. You'd already fucked him before, in his car just a couple of week ago, but this was different. So much different.
It's like he had something to prove. Maybe it was because his teammates, his closest friends, were watching, but he fucked you like he owned you. His thrusts were deep and driving and hit the perfect spot inside you each time. His hands on your legs were firm but gentle, and the way his eyes raked hungrily up your body were claiming enough.
His fingers dipped down to your arse momentarily as he shifted your hips, changing the angle so he could fuck you deeper. He looked over at Simon for a split second and nodded towards one of the pillows. The number eight got the hint, reaching over your head to grab one of his pillows. While he did that, unbeknownst to both you and Simon, Price's fingers wiped the sticky SR from your skin.
Once he had the pillow, Price shoved the pillow beneath you to keep your hips at the perfect angle. This way, he could continue to fuck his cock deeper and deeper into you, and still continue to worship your body with your hands.
But, he was closer than he would've liked to admit. He could feel, with each thrust, and each tightening of your slick, warm walls, his orgasm looming closer and close. That familiar coiling heat in his lower belly.
"C'mon, sweet girl, need you to come," he said breathlessly, then proceeded to push your legs upwards, bending your knees towards your ears. "Need you to come 'round my cock."
"M'close..." You whined, and the change in angle was pulling you tighter, sweat sticking you to the sheets below. But your body was exhausted, shaking and trembling and filled with honey-like pleasure that had your joints feeling heavy. "John, I don't... fuck, I can't–"
"Yes you can, sweetheart, yes you can," Price whispered, leaning down to kiss you. It was a sweet kiss, his facial hair tickling the warm skin of your cheeks and chin. When he pulled away, he placed a few more kisses to your nose, your cheeks and your jaw. "Just one more time for me. C'mon. One more time for your captain."
Well, when he put it that way...
It was like he had trained you, Pavlov's dog style. Your body jerked and you arched up against him, the same time the band of pleasure in your lower abdomen snapped.
"John!" You almost screamed, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. Warmth seeped into your body, flooding your veins as you came around his cock, spasming and fluttering. You were dizzy, euphoria blinding you as he fucked you through it, Simon's hands on your head keeping you grounded.
Your release gushed around John, and he groaned at the way you drenched his pubic hair. The sounds of him moving in and out of you too were too much for him to handle.
(And too much for Soap and Gaz to handle, who spilled over their fists with loud moans from where they were sitting on the couch).
Price desperately wanted to praise you as his girl, a possessive my girl spoken into the universe. But, as captain, he knew better. As much as it did pain him to say, he croaked out a, "That's our girl."
You whined and whimpered, your body thoroughly fucked-out. As much as you enjoyed this, you felt as though you wouldn't be walking for the next few days, and would probably sleep for the next thirty-six hours.
"John, sir..."
"I know, sweetheart, I know, m'coming," he muttered, thrusts beginning to falter. "M'gonna come deep in this tight little pussy. Yeah... fill her up real good."
First Simon, now John? Damn. The personification of your pussy was not what you expected to get out of this tonight. But you weren't complaining.
The captain came, moaning your name loudly into the room. With a gentle hand splayed across your belly, he emptied himself inside you alongside two of his teammates'. The feeling of it never ceased to make his mouth drop open in pleasure.
Simon kissed your temple. "Alright, pretty girl?"
You nodded. "Yeah... more than alright."
•º•º•
You should have known that all four men would be absolute kings at aftercare. It was pure bliss.
Johnny popped into Simon's bathroom to run you a bath while Simon cradled you in his arms, not letting you feel an ounce of loneliness. He had dragged you over to the couch, hugging you to his broad chest and watching as Gaz stripped the bed and made quick work of changing the sheets. Price entered the room with a fresh glass of water and a small bowl of your favourite sweets (you didn't question why Johnny and Simon had them in their flat in the first place).
You sipped your water and snacked on the sugary food for a little while, Ghost's hands rubbing up and down your back. Before long, Johnny reappeared and helped his teammate in guiding you towards the bathroom.
There was a slight argument between who was going to get into the bath with you, but ultimately Gaz one, and Simon begrudgingly handed you over to him. The pair of you sunk into the warm water, and you immediately melted back into him.
"Did such a good job for us, doc..." Gaz whispered in your ear, massaging your thighs and hips from where you were nestled in front of him between his legs.
Simon, who was lurking over the bath like some sort of spectre, nodded. "Such a good girl."
The praise made your body heat up, the steam curling up from the water suddenly scolding.
In the doorway, Johnny watched on with his phone in his hand. He asked you, "D'you want me to order some food?"
You nodded. "Can we please get–?"
He was already walking away. "I know your order, bonnie!"
You made a face at Simon. He shrugged.
Price, like Simon, stood at the edge of the bathtub. He looked down at you with adoration in his eyes
"You're just perfect, aren't you, sweetheart?" He said, and Simon and Gaz were agreeing with him before the sentence even registered in your head. You smiled at him. He smiled back. "Our perfect girl, hm?"
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659 notes · View notes
eggluverz · 8 months
Text
STARS FADING BUT I LINGER ON, DEAR
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PAIRING. dan heng x gn!reader; dan feng x gn!reader
CONTENT WARNINGS. torture and imprisonment but nothing graphic or in detail!! 
WORD COUNT. 5,332
SUMMARY. dan heng has been having dreams about you. they started off good—like a fairytale even. but soon he’s been getting the feeling something is wrong. you’re trapped and alone and can’t escape. dan heng wonders if his dreams are telling him something. and if they are…what is there for him to do?
SOF’S NOTE. *shoves this fic in everyone’s face* LOOK AT THIS! LOOK AT MY BABY!! PLS LOVE IT AND TREASURE IT!!! CRADLE IT GENTLE IN UR HANDS!!!! okay on a more serious note ahdjkdkd thank u anon for this amazing request i absolutely adored writing this 🥺🫶 idk where all the flower symbolism and dreams came from bc ik its not the in req but yk what it spoke to me for this story so i rolled w it HDJSKD i hope y’all enjoy!! :> 
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“What are all those flowers for?” you giggled, watching as Dan Feng entered the room with a cart full of peonies in tow. 
It looked a little ridiculous; the elegant and renowned Imbibitor Lunae wheeling around an absurd amount of white, pink, and red flowers. But Dan Feng never cared about pretenses when he was with you. He always felt comfortable enough to be himself, no matter how ridiculous it appeared. 
As he approached, he held a small, blooming red peony out between his fingertips. “They’re for you, naturally.”
He brushed your hair aside and gently tucked the stem of the flower behind your ear, admiring how the deep red of the flower complimented your complexion. 
“Beautiful.”
You looked down at your feet with a small chuckle before meeting his gaze again. “Thank you. You’re beautiful as well.”
“Thank you, my love,” said Dan Feng, his hand resting on your waist as he planted a kiss on your forehead. “Do you like the flowers?”
You nodded, feeling the soft petals of the flower in your hair between your fingers as you stared at the bundles of peonies in the cart he brought in. Dan Feng walked over when he saw you staring and led you to each section of colors. 
“These are pink—to show my affection for you.” He picked a flower and kissed the petals before bringing it to your mouth to reciprocate. You obliged with a giggle and he smiled and hid the scandalous flower in his sleeves. “These are white peonies, to let you know I’m always thinking of you.”
You placed your hand on his chest, feeling the careful embroidery on the silken fabrics. “You’re always on my mind, too.”
“Good,” he jested. “As I should be.”
Without warning, he brought your body flush against his chest and captured your mouth with his own, softly tugging at your lower lip. You chased after his touch to give him a kiss of your own, but he soon pulled away with a teasing grin on his face. 
You pouted. “Hey!”
“Patience, beloved,” said Dan Feng. “I still haven’t gotten to the last color.”
“Oh, my sincere apologies,” you said sarcastically, knowing he was the very reason he hadn’t finished his own speech. “Please, carry on.”
“Since you asked nicely.” He cupped your face and stroked the petals on the flower behind your ear. The sensation of his light fingers brushing against the soft flower petals tickled the skin around your ear and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “This flower is a red peony, to symbolize just how passionate I am for you.” Dan Heng stared into your eyes before he spoke. “I hope you know how much I love you, truly.”
“I know,” you said, gaze not once meeting his. Your stomach tightened and your heart started beating faster as you placed his warm hand on your chest. “I love you, Dan Feng. Every part of my being is yours.” 
“And mine, yours.”
Dan Feng took your hand in his, leading you into your bed chambers. You had never felt more loved and wanted than in this moment. But when you entered the room and looked up, the hand you were holding was no longer Dan Feng’s. 
Instead, your hand was clutching an iron bar instead of your lover’s hand, shackled in chains on your wrists and ankles. Dan Feng was gone and you were stuck in here for eternity. 
You cried out, body racking with helpless sobs. Every fiber of your being—mind, body, spirit—missed him so much. The worst part wasn’t the torture, the solitary confinement, the lack of access to basic human needs. 
No, that was nothing. 
Nothing compared to knowing you would never see Dan Feng again. 
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
Dan Heng woke with a start, hair plastered to us forehead with sweat. His pillow and blanket were both strewn across the floor of the Archives and he found himself on his bed alone, a heavy pounding coming from the place where his heart should be. His heart hurt so much he wondered if it was even his. 
He squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to take a deep breath to calm himself down.
That was the third time this week Dan Heng had a dream like that. 
Before, it wasn’t terribly uncommon for him to dream about your experiences with his past reincarnation. Dan Heng thought it was strange at first— Why is he dreaming of your memories rather than Dan Feng’s? But the Archives had no answer, so he was forced to accept the fact with mild curiosity as he grew accustomed to the untraditional visions that manifested as dreams that he has been having. 
Still, the strange part wasn’t that he had dreams of you, the strange part was that recently, since the Astral Express left Luofu, Dan Heng has been getting bad dreams of you. Or, to be precise, he’s been experiencing bad memories you have gone through. 
Dan Heng thought the torture was the worst of it. As cold blades cut against your warm skin, Dan Heng felt each push. Each puncture. Each drop of blood they drew from your veins. He woke up constantly in pain, checking his own body to be sure it wasn’t happening to him. 
But he learned a new form of torture that came from the heart. The solitude and loneliness. The knowledge that the one you loved most has perished— Was forced to reincarnate and never see you again. 
The pain on his body was temporary. But Dan Heng felt the ache in your soul every minute of every day. 
He just doubted there was anything he could do to stop it. 
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
“Y/N,” came a quiet voice from outside the cell. “I came to check on you again.”
You looked up from your thin futon to meet Jing Yuan’s remorseful eyes. Your living conditions have been upgraded from those you’ve experienced for decades now. No longer were you in chains— You had access to a bath, and they even offered you books and enough food to sustain you. All while confined in a cell, of course. 
Perhaps they no longer viewed you as a threat. Not that they should have ever viewed you as such in the first place. You didn’t understand why you were punished solely for being Dan Feng’s lover. You weren’t a warrior. You didn’t hold any position of power. You were a scholar and lover of books and plants. But you’re an accomplice, the Preceptors said as they mercilessly chained you up. 
If you weren’t knocked into unconsciousness moments after, you would’ve spit at their faces as they took you away. 
“Y/N…” 
You snapped out of your thoughts, dragging your gaze to the man in front of your cell. Placing your book to the side, you smiled up at Jing Yuan. “Sorry about that. I was a little out of it there.”
Jing Yuan frowned and your heart moved, feeling the depth of his sadness. “No need to apologize. Tell me, how have you been?” 
“Good, I have to say,” you said, sitting up straight on your bed. “I’m almost finished with the book you gave me last time.” 
He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m glad.”
“Is something the matter?” you asked as you stood and walked over to him, offering a hand of comfort through the iron bars. 
Jing Yuan took it, giving you a gentle squeeze before dropped your hand. The rush of human contact, despite how brief it was, coursed through you. It’s been so long since you felt the touch of another person.
“Dan Heng and his friends left the Xianzhou Luofu,” he said solemnly. 
Your eyes shut as you let your forehead press against the cool metal of your cell. A tear fell down your cheek but a smile remained on your face. “That’s… That is good. He should be free from this place. Dan Heng is happiest that way, correct?”
“That is how it seems,” Jing Yuan sighed. He held back his words for a moment, hesitant. But as he looked at you, he could not longer keep it in. “Do you still think it was the right decision to not inform Dan Heng that you are here?” 
You let out a quiet laugh, taking a seat on the floor and Jing Yuan soon followed suit. “What would he do with that information? What if he felt guilty—? That could hold him back.”
“Are you certain that is a choice for you to make?”
Sighing, you shook your head. It wasn’t your choice to make; it was Dan Heng’s. You knew that deep down inside. But what could you do when you were aware of Dan Heng’s aversion to his past—to any potential connection to Dan Feng? And thus, any connection to you? 
You felt it, you dreamed about it. Dan Heng’s hatred for his past reincarnation. You mourned for them. Both Dan Feng and Dan Heng. For the former, you knew it must be hard having no connection to your reincarnation. Was his soul no longer tethered to this world? Perhaps he felt lost, even in the afterlife. For the latter, you did not blame any resentment that came from him. You knew all too well that being judged and punished based off the actions of another person was unjust. You wouldn’t wish it upon anybody. 
And so, it made sense to you that Dan Heng wanted to accept his past for what it was, and then be free from it. You did not want to interfere with that. Especially not when he was so close to healing and making a good, happy life for himself. 
And now, after Jing Yuan told you Dan Heng and his friends finished their adventures in the Xianzhou Luofu, excited to take on the rest of the galaxies, you thought that maybe you made the right choice. You would be happy enough here, alone in this prison, if you knew your beloved was free. 
It was a decision you made yourself, for Dan Heng. 
And it was one you hoped you wouldn’t regret. 
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
“Foolish! No!” Dan Heng thrashed in his sleep, wanting to reach out and shake you to your senses. He’s had terrible dream after terrible dream, but this was one he couldn’t simply let go of. 
This one seemed more recent than any of the others. That was not a dream of a distant memory from long ago— No, the Astral Express that Jing Yuan spoke of in Dan Heng’s dream had only departed Xianzhou Luofu a few days ago now. That meant you were there, locked up right under his nose, for the entirety of his stay at the Luofu. And no one told him a thing.
Dan Heng had to control his fury. He felt hurt and betrayed, despite not having a true, personal connection with you himself. He wasn’t Dan Feng and, deep down, he recognized he didn’t have a claim to your thoughts, feelings, and emotions. But the pain he felt from knowing you were there, and that maybe, just maybe, he could’ve done something to help you sooner, was something Dan Heng couldn’t shake.
He knew what he had to do.
Perhaps it was bold, impulsive, and maybe dismissive of their current plans, but he had to do it. Dan Heng took a deep breath, not waiting for the night to turn into day. He was going to ask Pom-Pom to please turn this damn train around.
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
“Where are they?” 
Much to no one’s surprise, Jing Yuan seemed to know exactly what Dan Heng was talking about. What else could be important enough for Dan Heng to barge into the Seat of Divine Foresight without a word of warning? 
Jing Yuan quickly excused the meeting he was holding, biding a quick apology and saying they would reconvene shortly. Despite the newfound privacy, he still didn’t reveal anything to Dan Heng.
“Well, good afternoon to you as well, Dan Heng—”
“Stop. There’s no time for formalities right now.” Dan Heng folded his arms, hands clutched into tight fists by his sides. “Where are the Preceptors keeping them? And why the hell haven’t you done anything to help Y/N?”
With a heavy sigh, Jing Yuan took a seat in his chair, gesturing Dan Heng to sit across from him. A gesture Dan Heng pointedly ignored. He wasn’t here to sit down and take his time. He wanted to know where you were now so he could get you out of there. The torture, the poor treatment, the punishment for something you didn’t do... It wasn’t fair. He could hardly put up with it in his dreams. He wondered how it was possible for you to even be surviving all this time. 
“It may surprise to you here,” Jing Yuan stated, voice low, “but as much influence I have over Xianzhou, the Preceptors unfortunately remain untouched by that.”
Dan Heng’s grip loosened, momentarily feeling guilty for assuming Jing Yuan did not try to help you in any way. From what his dreams could see, Jing Yuan was one of the only people who frequently visited you— Which was already more than he could say for himself. 
His face hardened but he relented. “I’m sorry for suggesting such a thing.”
Jing Yuan gave him a half-smile through hooded eyes. “If you hold any recollection of Dan Feng’s time with them, I don’t blame you for having such a severe reaction. Y/N was—is…remarkable.” 
“I shouldn’t know that myself,” said Dan Heng quietly. “Yet somehow, I know you’re right.” 
He looked at the ground solemnly, suddenly frightened that he wouldn’t be able to do anything to help you after all. If the Cloud Knight General Jing Yuan couldn’t influence the Preceptors, what could he do? 
He shook the negative thoughts out of his head. Sure, Dan Heng wasn’t Jing Yuan, but he was the reincarnation of Dan Feng, the previous High Elder and Imbibitor Lunae. Dan Heng was the friend and ally of current High Elder Bailu. Dan Heng had the General backing him with a token of alliance. And Dan Heng would stop at nothing to free you from your shackles. 
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
The process was more painstaking than Dan Heng had originally thought. After informing Jing Yuan of his plan to speak to Bailu, Dan Heng soon realized that conversing with her would be the easiest part.
The Dragon Lady was kind and had a good heart. She cared for other people and didn’t want to see anyone in pain. The difficult part came from feeling the lack of respect the Preceptors had for her. They treated her as more of a child than a High Elder, even withholding her title of Imbibitor Lunae until they deemed she was “of age.” But Dan Heng thought she had more sense and knowledge than all of the Preceptors combined. 
It took negotiations, possible acts of coercion that broke many Vidyadhara laws, and even the threat of Dan Heng to follow in his past life’s footsteps and destroy the seal at Scalegorge Waterscape and many more places… But Dan Heng, along with the assistance and backing of Bailu and Jing Yuan, finally got the Preceptors to agree to release you without forcing a reincarnation. 
You had suffered decades for a crime you had no hand in committing. The Preceptors were simply scared your love for Dan Feng would influence you to be a main headpiece in carrying out the rebellion against the Xianzhou Luofu—hence why those in charge had originally agreed to keep you here. But Jing Yuan was the residing general now, and with his army at his side, he was able to voice that he no longer viewed imprisonment on this land to be befitting of you as a solid conclusion. Bailu stated, as a complete bluff that anyone could have seen right through, that if you were not released immediately and given the opportunity to be reconnected with Dan Heng, she would no longer be as willing to repair any seals, should they be harmed in the future. 
Somehow, instead of all three of them getting locked up for treason or whatever Vidyadhara laws they horribly crossed, they managed to succeed in their goal of winning your freedom. The Preceptors wrote in their official records the release date of prisoner Y/N and agreed to escort one of them to your cell.
Jing Yuan and Bailu, of course, both opted for Dan Heng to be the person who sees you first. But only after making him promise they would get to see you once you settled into your new life. 
Dan Heng smiled, thanking them for their part in this operation. And when night came, he spoke his vow to you under the endless stars.
He would see you soon. And this time, he would never let anything bad happen to you again. 
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
“More peonies?” you asked with a laugh, staring in awe at the field of flowers that were newly planted on the grounds of your estate. The bright colors of the petals flushed against the dark green of the leaves lined the gardens of your grand quarters. 
Dan Feng nodded, the trimmings on his sleeves detailed with the faint embroidery of petals dancing around the wind. Your heart warmed when you saw it. It was fitting for him, such a beautiful and caring soul. 
“I had them planted for you,” he said, gesturing at the arrangement around you. He smiled, his eyes glinting. “Because one cartful just wasn’t enough.” 
You shook your head as you went around the rows of peonies, touching the petals in awe of the spring bloom in the air. The smell was sweet and the wind was cool, providing the right amount of breeze to offset the heat of the sun. First, you went to the patch of white peonies, then pink, then red. Then, you noticed a shade Dan Feng hadn’t given to you before.
“Yellow peonies?” you said curiously, Dan Feng following along as you explored the gardens fit for royalty. Because, he had said before, to him, you were.
“Indeed.” He plucked one from the bush, careful not to ruin the stem of the plant itself. Slowly, he brought it up against the light in the sky. “Yellow. As radiant as the sun.” 
You stared up, shading your eyes as to not get blinded by the brightness. “It shines almost as brightly as you.” 
Dan Feng made a noise of amusement at your words. “I should be the one saying that to you.” 
“Perhaps you should speak faster,” you teased. 
You walked over to him, placing your hand in his and leading him to a field of grass. When you got to an area you liked, you sat down on the floor, gesturing for him to follow suit. Dan Feng brushed at the fabric of his clothes once before happily obliging. As you sat there, you looked over at Dan Feng and studied the look of serenity on his face. His expression was calm, his eyes were soft and the corners of his mouth tilted ever so slightly into a smile. In the hand that was not holding yours, he held the yellow peony still in hand.
“Does it symbolize anything? Like the others?” 
He nodded. “Yellow peonies are rare to come by. Only the most renowned of breeders can craft one to the perfect shade.”
At his words, you looked back at the abundant row of yellow peonies dressing your land. You wondered how much effort he went through in searching for the perfect shade to gift you.
“They’re to symbolize my wishes for you,” stated Dan Feng, toying with the edge of a petal with his thumb. “I wish to bestow upon you luck and prosperity, for the rest of your life.” 
“I think I’ve used all the luck I possibly could, finding someone like you,” you giggled, bumping your shoulder against his before leaning your head on it. Dan Feng breathed deeply, resting his head on top of yours. “And the only prosperity I wish for is to be prosperous in love. With you.” 
He laughed, a deep rumble vibrating against your body. “So, all your wishes of luck and prosperity have already come true? What need was there for me to gift you these flowers, then?”
You held your palm out, waiting for Dan Feng to place the yellow peony at its center. He gently laid it there, letting his fingers linger against your skin. 
“I’m glad you gifted me these,” you reassured him. “Now, when I walk by, they will always serve as a reminder of the radiant peony right in front of me.”
˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖
The next morning, Dan Heng entered the dark corridor with a flower tucked into a hidden pocket of his outer garments. 
While he was nervous about how you might react to him going against your wishes that you expressed to Jing Yuan, his determination to assure your freedom was more than enough to counteract that. If Dan Heng truly wanted to be freed of his past and atone for the wrongdoings of Dan Feng, he would need to make sure no one else was being punished for his actions. 
He had helped repair the Ambrosial Arbor’s seal at Scalegeorge Waterscape, to atone for Dan Feng’s acts against the current High Elder and all of the Luofu Vidyadhara. Now, he would release you from decades of unjust punishment you suffered simply for being associated with him. 
“Y/N, you have a visitor,” one of the Preceptors said dryly, unlocking a cell. The hooded man could hardly hide the look of distaste on his face a before he rolled his eyes and walked away. “I’m sure you two must have plenty to catch up on. Leave here quickly before we change our minds.”
Dan Heng peered into the entrance, his gaze meeting your confused and alarmed face in an instant. 
You looked between Dan Heng and the open cell, not a Preceptor in sight. “Is this a test?”
He shook his head, showing you the official pardon signed by Bailu, Jing Yuan, and a representative of the Preceptors. You held the document in your hands, reading its contents and feeling the seal to believe it’s legitimacy, before giving it back to him. He felt your hands tremble as you made brief contact with his and he was overcome with the urge to comfort you. 
“This isn’t a test,” he promised, looking into your eyes in hopes you would see the truth in them. “You really are free from here.”
You let out an amused noise of disbelief, shaking your head. “Oh, Dan Heng… What did you do?”
He startled at the sound of his name coming from your lips. He was so accustomed to you only repeating Dan Feng over and over in his dreams that this felt almost refreshing. 
“Rather, what did Jing Yuan do?” you corrected, laughing quietly as you stood up from your seated position. Your robes, once beautifully crafted, were worn and tattered. But the light in your eyes never waned. “I told him not to tell you.”
“He didn’t,” said Dan Heng. He considered his statement before adding, “I suppose eventually he did confirm it, but I was the one who confronted him about it.”
You raised a curious brow. “And how, pray tell, did you know about this…situation?”
“From my dreams.”
Your eyes widened in surprise. For once, you were speechless. 
“I know it’s more normal to have dreams about your past reincarnation,” he stated, neatly folding the document in his hands before sliding it away into his pocket. “But, while I occasionally had dreams of Dan Feng’s life—bad ones normally, might I add—it’s been more common to have dreams of you.”
With a slow and shaky breath, you shut your eyes to think. “You’d had dreams of Dan Feng’s memories of me, do you mean?”
He shook his head. “No. They’re dreams of your memories. Some included your moments with Dan Feng from long ago, yes. Others were you in this prison. A recent one was of Jing Yuan visiting you and in it you said not to tell me about this.”
You chuckled helplessly. “What good did that do, after all?”
“Why didn’t you want me to know? Why didn’t you want me to help you?”
“It wasn’t that!” you protested, your eyes telling stories your words could not keep up with. You sighed. “Okay, it was.”
Dan Heng let out a sharp breath.
“However, it’s not for the reasons you might be thinking,” you corrected, arms folded over your chest. “I’ve come to accept my life being imprisoned here. It’s given me a lot of time to think and reflect. And, similar to you, I’ve occasionally had dreams of you, Dan Heng.”
He tilted his head to the side. 
“They weren’t long nor were they frequent. But what I have gathered from them, scarce as they were, is you resent Dan Feng. You don’t want any ties to your past. And you’ve accomplished so much growth and closure, finally freeing yourself from all that burdened you. What good would it be to drag you back here and make you relive this?” 
“You sound ridiculous.” 
His words were harsh and it stopped you right in your tracks. You stared at him, eyes wide as they peered into his, but he couldn’t let that stop the words of logic from coming out of his mouth. 
“You’re not a saint nor are you a martyr. You don’t have to try to be one. You’re a person, and for that you should be free in your own right. You’re a Vidyadhara, trapped and punished for actions that were not your own. I understand what you’ve been through— I’ve been there, too.” Dan Heng held his hand out to you from outside your prison cell, waiting for you to walk out and accept it. “Furthermore, you are a kind and loving soul, and you don’t deserve to spend a single moment in this place. Please, accept my help.”
Your cheeks were wet as you nodded your head. Slowly, you placed your cold, shaky hand in his. He felt your cool skin against his warm one and he enveloped your hands gently, brushing your knuckles with his thumb to share the heat in his body. 
“I’ve wanted to get out of here so badly,” you admitted through silent tears. “I hated being confined and alone. I felt helpless. Pathetic.” He watched with a heavy heart as you wiped your own tears away. Could he reach out and do it for you instead? He chastised himself. As much as he wanted to, he had no right. “But you suffered so much in your past life—in this life even. I didn’t want to cause you any more pain.”
Dan Heng shook his head. “What brings me the most pain is knowing you were suffering for so long, and I didn’t help you.”
“How could you help when you didn’t know?” you reasoned with a sad smile. “I’m sorry for making Jing Yuan promise to never let you know.”
His eyes squeezed shut as a sharp pang ran through his heart. “Please. Please promise me you won’t do something like that again. If you need me, I want to be there for you. Always.”
You gaze widened at his words before you recollected yourself. 
Dan Heng winced as he understood what he said. His mind and soul were confused. He knew he wasn’t Dan Feng, that this was the first moment he has ever had with you. But why does he feel like he’s known you forever? 
After a few moments of silence, as if you were giving him time to amend what he said, you finally spoke. “Okay. I promise.” 
He felt every muscle in his body relax at those words. He knew the promise you spoke was true to your heart. Dan Heng believed it with all his being and he let that console him. 
“Thank you,” he breathed. 
With one of your hands still in his, he slowly led you out of the corridor and up the stairs, away from your cold and dark prison. 
“What are you going to do now that you’re free?” Dan Heng asked, hating himself for hoping your future plans would somehow include keeping in touch with him. “Will you…stay on the Luofu?”
Your body tensed as a shiver went down your spine. You shook your head fervently as your expression twisted into one of grief. Dan Heng’s heart stirred at the sight. He knew that feeling all too well, and it pained him knowing you had similar conflicts to go through. “No, that’s the last thing I want to do. I won’t stay here. At least not now.”
“I understand.” 
You gave him a weak, but hopeful smile as he squeezed your hand softly. 
“And you?” you wondered, looking at him with thoughtful and eyes as you awaited his response. 
“I’m going to the Astral Express to continue on with our adventures,” he said with his lips upturned. “It’s a great place to call home, especially when you’ve lost the only place you had once called home.” He stared at you for a moment. “If you would like to join us—join me—I think you would very much enjoy it.” 
You teared up at his offer. “Can you really just invite people like that?”
Dan Heng briefly thought of the girl they picked us as an icicle and the boy who they found with no knowledge of the past. He considered your situation. “Yes, we really can.” 
The sunlight from outside finally started shining through the walkway, signaling that you were almost out as a freed person. 
“Also,” he said, before he could forget, “I, myself, would want you to come join our crew, even if it’s only for a little while. You can stay for as long as you want, and leave whenever you want as well.”
Your ears perked up at that. “I like the sound of that. If the Astral Express will have me, then I would love to join.” 
Dan Heng smiled as he patted the top of your head. Your body relaxed at his touch as you leaned into him, and he continued to hold onto you as you approached the exit. “No one will threaten your freedom ever again. That is my oath to you.”
You started at him, brows furrowed in determination. “And I vow the same to you. These new beginnings will bring only freedom and prosperity.”
At that word, Dan Heng suddenly remembered the small gift he brought for you. He blushed as he felt the soft petals of the peony in his large pocket. 
“I have something for you,” he said, slowly stopping in his tracks. He turned towards you and you followed suit, tilting your head to the side in question. “It’s nothing big. But it’s a token. A reminder.” 
He held out the peony in one hand, watching as your eyes lit up at the sight of it. Your mouth widened as you let out a noise of laughter, accepting his gift and holding it close to your chest. 
“Thank you, Dan Heng,” you said, tears of happiness filling your eyes. “I love it.”
It wasn’t yellow— He wasn’t the bright and radiant Dan Feng you knew and loved. It wasn’t red or pink, even. While he felt traces of love and attraction for you from his past memories, he knew in his heart that wasn’t really him developing those feelings for you. 
Instead, it was a white peony. 
You were always in his thoughts. It was both a blank slate, and a gentle reminder. He would never forget you, and as he got to experience life with you, who knew what dashes of color would be mixed in next with this pearly white. 
1K notes · View notes
number1jeonginstan · 6 months
Note
Hi! I was wondering if you could write a story in which hyunjin overstimulates y/n? And if you want, could you make y/n sensible and scared? Ty! I love your writing btw!
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A/N: Sorry for taking so long to get this out, I’ve been kind of in a slump for writing and then I got the idea for what I should do because I was kinda struggling for a minute. I hope you liked it and I’m so thankful for the request! Thank you so much for your time and patience, I really appreciate it.
WC: 1.25k
Pairing: Hyunjin x (established relationship) afab!reader
Minors don't interact, 18+
Warnings: SMUT, overstimulation, some light slapping, good girl, baby, use of that stuff, idk what else tbh this was written at like 1 am
It was a lazy day between you and Hyunjin. Both still in your pajamas, you in silk shorts and one of his t-shirts, and him in his matching yellow and white checkered pajamas. You enjoyed this new mystery novel on his bed while he painted in his studio. It was the comfort of being next to one another that you had no idea what was yet to come. 
As you turned to the next page in your book, Hyunjin got up coming towards you. “Wanna have sex?” He asked, lying down next to you on the bed. You barely paid attention to him, too immersed in your book, simply humming. 
“Come on” he groaned lifting his head to you, “I need you baby” he huffed, still not eliciting a reaction from you. To try and get any reaction out of you, he began to run his fingers on your thighs. 
Ts when he ran his fingers along your thighs, placing wet kisses along your smooth thigh. “Jinnie, please” you whined “I want to finish this chapter, they are about to say who did it” 
“Wow, a book is more interesting than fucking your insanely hot boyfriend?” 
“Right now, yes!” you giggled, finishing reading the page you were on. Before you could even turn the page, he snatched the book out of your hand. “Don’t you dare fold the corner” you yelled, trying to snatch the book back. He giggled adding the bookmark he made you as a gift to mark the page. He got up and placed the book on his easel, far from your reach. 
“Fine” you groaned, falling back onto the bed, your head hitting the pillow. He walked back to the bed, crawling on top of you so his thighs locked yours in place. He placed a kiss on your lips, causing a giggle to leave your lips.
He moved to your neck, kissing and nibbling at the spot that drove you crazy. You could slowly feel yourself getting wetter. “Jinnie, please stop teasing” you whined, rubbing your thighs together to get any sort of stimulation. “I need you” 
“Be patient baby, we have all the time in the world”
He kissed your lips once again, trying to savor your taste. He began to move down your body, lifting your (his) shirt slightly to kiss your stomach, slowly moving down to your shorts. Without hesitation, he pulled down your shorts and underwear, throwing them somewhere in your shared room. 
“Fuck baby, this pussy is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen” he ran his fingers across your folds, capturing your wetness and putting his finger in his mouth, licking it off his fingers. “And you taste even better” 
You moaned watching him, and before you could even say anything, he dove into your pussy. His plush lips kissed your clit as he slowly inserted one of his long fingers into your hole. You grabbed his hair in his hand, forcing him to eat you like a man starved, and he was happy to. 
He was licking every inch of your pussy, slowly inserting another finger to give you the extra stimulation you needed. His fingers were long, not as long as his cock, but longer than your own and he was skilled with them. It took him another minute for you to cum around his fingers, moaning his name as your walls clenched around them. 
He began to kiss down your thigh, his plush lips covered in your cum from eating you out. “Jinnie, please, need you” you whined.
“You are a greedy little girl aren’t you, just made you cum with my mouth and fingers, but you are still begging for my cock” 
He slapped your thigh lightly, moving so he was on top of you, in between your legs. “Fuck, you are such a slut” he groaned, pulling his already hard cock from the confines of his boxers. The tip was already red, pre-cum slowly dripping out of the tip.
“Who’s the slut now?” you giggled, trying to joke around, but it only made Hyunjin to tease you more. Before you could react, he grabbed your face, making you look directly into his eyes. “If you keep acting like this, I’m going to fuck you like the little whore you are” 
“Sure Hyunjin, you can try and do that” You rolled your eyes, knowing that your boyfriend would never “fuck” you. Whenever the two of you had sex, he always liked to describe it as making love. He was someone who believed that sex was something that should be cherished. 
“Don’t test me baby, tonight you are going to be my cocksleeve” Before you could even react, he thrust his cock inside of you, not even giving you a warning. “How can you be such a whore and have such a tight pussy” 
You just moaned you had never seen him this way, and you were a bit scared, and your face reflected it. “Aww, baby don’t be scared, you’ll get to cum, don’t worry”
He nibbled on your ear softly, his pillow lips wrapping around your lobe as he continued to thrust into you. He slowly began to lift your legs slightly, signaling you to wrap your legs around his back, allowing him to hit that one spot inside your cunt.
“Such a good girl, moaning for my cock. Is it just that good?” 
He continued to thrust into you, not faltering his pace as he continued to abuse that one spot inside of you. All you could do was moan out in response. You were too fucked out, getting fucked too well to even understand the words coming out of his mouth. 
He slapped your face slightly, causing you to look up straight into his eyes. “I asked you a question, is my cock that good” 
“Yes Jinnie, your cock is the best I’ve ever had” you moaned out loud. He kissed your lips, muttering “good girl” on them, and with him thrusting into that one spot that made you whine, it was all you needed to cum. 
“Fuck baby, I can feel your walls clenching around me, but just because you came, doesn’t mean we are done” You whined, feeling overstimulated as he continued to abuse your pussy like there is no tomorrow. 
It all felt too much, him continuing to thrust into you even though you had just cum. You thrashed around slightly, not being able to take it. Just as you thought you were going to break, like the world around you was going to go black, he came inside of you, kissing your lips. 
You were still out of it as he quickly got up, getting a cloth to clean the cum that was spilling you out of with as well as a glass of water. “Baby, I need you to drink this” 
You just nodded, slowly drinking the glass of water that your boyfriend was holding in front of you. 
“Sorry if I was too rough, I just overheard you say that you wanted me to fuck you more often, I hope it was okay” 
He looked like a hurt puppy so you pulled him close to you, kissing his lips gently. “It was amazing Jinnie, but next time, give me some warning because I was scared shitless” 
He just giggled as he wrapped his arms around you as you both fell asleep together. Maybe not knowing the end of the book is worth it. 
621 notes · View notes
dreamingofbucky · 11 months
Text
IS IT TOO LATE?
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Miguel O'Hara x Spider!F!Reader (one shot)
summary: He casted you back to your universe. But now he's back and you don't know why. you thought he hated you for the longest time. But that's furthest from the truth.
tags/content warnings: very much angst. heart strings will be pulled at. consensual smut. p in v. love confessions. soft!miguel. fangs are used for pleasure. begging. size kink. praise, like tons of it. mig and reader healing themselves together.
Word Count: 4.2k (whoops)
author’s note: not beta read. mild midnight miguel thots. more angst though with a very happy ending. idk i was in my feelings lol
You could sense him close to you. You always did, even despite your spider senses.
It was like he’s infected himself into you even years later, unable to get him out of your system.  
You were in your kitchen, putting away some dishes when you got the feeling of him being near. It was like a prickle at your neck that grew and grew until every hair on your body rose. You whipped your head around the kitchen and narrowed your eyes to find him. You couldn’t though, he was always good at hiding himself. 
“Miguel?” Your voice drifted throughout your apartment. It fell flat though and a sigh wringed out of your throat once you realized he wasn’t there anymore. 
But then your spine stiffened to its own accord and you whipped your head this time toward the hallway. You grabbed the dish towel to dry your hands before you made your way. You weren’t on guard, but you kept the towel on your shoulder just in case. Your spider strength would probably work just fine, but you didn’t know what he’d want. 
“Miguel? I know you’re here, somewhere,” you called out again with more tenacity in your voice. 
There was a creak in the living room and you increased your pace until you were at the entrance, flicking on the light that flooded the room. He wasn’t hiding. He was in the corner, staring at a photo on top of your fireplace. 
“What are you doing here?” You asked, fingers reaching for the towel on your shoulder. 
His broad shoulders slumped for a moment before he finally turned. He was in his blue and red suit, the one you knew very well. He looked better than the last time you saw him. His face though, was contorted in an expression you couldn’t read. 
“I–uh, I’m not sure why I came,” he finally mumbles. 
You take a step forward and tread lightly. It’s been four years, so you really didn’t know why he came. This was his decision anyway, to leave you and keep you at a distance. 
“It’s been years,” you remind him. He finally turns completely and his brown eyes gleam red a little and then fade back to the rich color you once loved. 
The man you once swore you loved forever, until he didn’t. Your heart tugged at the memories of what you and Miguel had. Attempting to push those thoughts away to keep yourself from spiraling like before, you clear your throat. 
He finally replies. “I had to see you.” 
No reason. Nothing else. Just those five words. 
You take another step forward and he does too.
“You can’t just come here without an explanation,” you pushed. Your irritation was starting to increase and your patience was starting to thin for your ex. 
Miguel is quiet as he stays grounded. But your senses heightened when he lifted his hand and turned his wrist toward you. Before you could react in time, a bright orangish red web shot out of his wrist and latched onto your chest. You grunt as he pulls you into him, closing the distance. You grab the string of the web and pull it off your shirt, but it's stuck. 
“Miguel,” you bite. A smile curls at his lips before a talon comes out of his pointer finger and he snips the web. 
“Sorry,” he breathes. 
“You’re here, because?” You press again. Your heart was hammering against your chest and you were hoping he’d tell you what he needed you for.
“Spider Society misses you.” 
Oh. You weren’t expecting that. 
“I’m sure they do,” you quip. 
It wasn’t your choice to leave them. To go back to your universe and live out your days. It was Miguel who pushed you to this point. 
You even got engaged two years ago to who you thought you could live the rest of your days with. And then things took a turn. Things didn’t work out. He felt like you were stunted by him in this universe. Although you still did your best to be the Spider-Woman your universe needed, it wasn’t enough. 
It was like the action of Miguel casting you out back to your universe made you lose your spark. Made you less of who you were meant to be. 
You hate him for it. Well, you did the first year before you started to make a life for yourself here. It didn’t work out, obviously. 
The thing was, you never really understood why Miguel did what he did. It was so quick, so sudden, casting you out. You thought you were doing well in Spider Society. You made friends, you aced missions. So what did you do wrong? You even loved him to your best ability. 
Was it because you couldn’t put universes first before anyone else in your life? Miguel was so bent up on the idea that sacrifices had to be made when it came to being Spider-Man. Guess that included you. 
You were a sacrifice he had to make for a reason you still didn’t know. 
“Just wanted to check in, see how you were,” he says in an almost whisper. He drops his gaze to your lips and you gulp. No, you couldn’t feel like this for him. Not anymore. 
You lift your hand and press your palm to his chest. He looks at it before his brows furrow. His hand then reaches over and caresses yours. His fingers fiddle with your ring finger. 
“Your ring, what happened? Where is it?” 
You sigh, attempting to turn on your heel and get away from him but his fingers move to your wrist to keep you there. You knew he’d know about you getting engaged. You got your spider senses alerted whenever he was near the first two years you were gone. You knew he was checking up on you frequently. Until he stopped. He didn’t know the engagement was broken off and you lived alone in that small apartment. 
“Miguel, let me go.”
He doesn’t budge, so you press your other palm against his chest for leverage but he doesn’t move an inch. Your emotions are getting heightened from it all and you can feel tears start to spring into your eyes. You feel pathetic. 
“What happened?” He repeats, his eyes turning soft and curious. 
“Nothing happened. You happy?” 
“No–” he shakes his head. “Tell me.” 
You sigh, not wanting to fight with him. You had years of it when he started becoming too focused on stopping Spider people from disrupting their canon events. Those fights ended up pushing you both to a point that couldn’t be turned back around. 
“Miguel, I’m not in the mood. I’ve had a long day. It’s late.” 
“Dime qué pasó,” he almost pleads. 
Well, if it made him let you go then you had no other choice. You took a deep breath and stared at him. You needed him to know what he did and how it resulted with you no longer having an engagement ring. 
“He left me, Miguel. Does that make you happy? He saw how much I couldn’t handle being so far away from my people. From my friends. From you. He saw how it ruined my life being stuck here. I tried so hard to fake it until I was happy, but he saw through it all. He loved me so much that he let me go. Unlike someone who casted me out–” 
“I didn’t cast you out because I didn't love you,” he interrupts with a growl. His face leans closer and your core flutters. 
Fuck, your body could still react to him like no time has passed. 
“We were young,” you argue. “That wasn’t love, the longer I had time apart to contemplate it. We were simply infatuated, but that wasn’t love.” 
“It was for me, sabes esto.” 
“No, it wasn’t Miguel,” you bite. 
Miguel is silent, dropping his hand. You take a step back, a deep breath leaving your lips. His own shoulders move softly with his breathing. Some of the strands of hair at the top of his head fall over his temple and forehead. You want to so desperately lift a hand and brush them back in place. But that's not something you can do anymore. 
You take another step back, finding yourself sitting on your couch. You placed your elbows on your knees and took a deep breath. You heard his footsteps follow and he knelt down, placing a finger under your chin and lifted you enough to see him. To look at his eyes that are yearning for you to speak to him. 
“Mira, I lied. They didn’t miss you. I did. I stopped checking in on you to give you space. To move on.” 
You scoff. “You can see how well that worked out.” You lift your naked ring finger to make a point. 
“I needed to see you one last time.” 
This brought you to straighten your spine and look at him with widened eyes. “Last time?” 
He nods. 
“What do you mean, Miguel?” 
He’s silent for a moment. “I’m not going to check in on you ever again. You won’t be bothered by me. I’m taking some space from Spider Society as well. They’re better off anyway.” 
Your heart skipped a beat at the revelation. He was going to demote himself from the society he created for us? One of the best places you’ve been able to call home for years. You missed it dearly, you couldn’t deny that. 
“You can’t just leave them. They need you.” 
Miguel’s eyes cast down and this time it’s you bringing a hand under his chin and lifting enough for him to look at you. You scoot a little closer to him where your knees brush. A fire burns in your belly. 
“They don’t. I hurt people. I hurt you. I need space and time before I can come back and delegate again. I took things too far.” 
“So you’d rather disappear than try to fix things? Did you ever plan to allow me back to Spider Society?” 
He shakes his head. “I thought you’d be content here with him. You seemed so happy.” 
You laugh. “That wasn’t happy, Miguel. That was coping.”
His thick brows furrow. “No, you were happy.” 
“Are you trying to convince yourself? Are you really trying to control the truth? I wasn’t happy. I thought I could play along with this life to deal with everything. I was in survival mode. It was purely a facade. Imagine being introduced to a safe haven and then being stripped of all access to it and its people. That’s what happened to me. I had no choice but to try to make a life for myself here.” 
Miguel is quiet for a moment, pressing his lips into a thin line. His forehead wrinkles as he thinks deeply. 
“This would be easier if I hated you.” He finally mutters. 
Now you’re the one raising a brow. “Excuse me?” 
“Call this an atonement,” he says. “I shouldn’t have done that to you, but I’m not sure bringing you back would fix things. What happened can’t be undone.” 
“I never asked for you to fix it. I’ve learned how to make this my home. It was a home before I got my Spider abilities and it could be my home after.” 
“But you’re not happy. You just said so yourself,” he counters.
You huff out a breath, exhausted at all of this back and forth. Why was he really here? If he wanted to see you one last time he could’ve done that without making himself known. He could’ve creeped in the shadows to do it. 
“What do you want?” The words are sharp and roll off your tongue like venom. His hands raise and rest on your knees. He’s still kneeling and he scoots closer. A hand travels up your thigh and you suck in a breath. 
“One last time,” he repeats so softly you almost miss it. 
“We already had our one last time,” you say quietly. You remember that last time you felt him near you. That was when you truly thought that was the last time you’d feel him in your universe. 
“No, bebita,” he responds gruffly. “I need you one last time.” 
His words aren’t registering in your brain. 
“You made it very clear you didn’t need me.” 
“Will you let me finish?” His eyes connect with yours and your heart thumps loudly against your chest. 
“Finish then,” you push. 
“It’s easier to hate you because then I could move on. I never did, bebita.” The nickname rolls off his tongue in a way that makes your core flutter and you clench your thighs. 
“I–” you start, but he cuts you off. 
“Casting you out was the worst thing I did. I couldn’t take it back, my pride wouldn’t let me. I loved you so much, but I couldn’t say it. It was always on the tip of my tongue. You were it for me, bebita. It crushed me even more to see you making a life for yourself here. Finding a partner to be with, that was the worst of it. It took me months to deal with that one. But I couldn’t risk losing you to the things we did for the universes we saved. Pushing you away was the hardest thing to do, but the safest. If I didn’t have you to sacrifice in life or death situations, then that's what I had to do. I couldn’t lose you in those ways, I just couldn’t.” 
His confession brings tears to your eyes and you wrap your hands around his neck. You lean in, pressing your forehead against his. You take a deep breath and he does too. Soon, your breathing becomes sync with his. 
“You hurt me,” was all you could say. 
“I know, bebita, I know. I’m so sorry. I loved you–I love you so much. It felt like the only way I wouldn’t lose you.” 
“But you ended up losing me anyway in the process,” you remind him. He nods. 
“I lost you anyway. Please forgive me. Or did I come at the wrong time where that’s not possible? Is it too late?” 
You contemplate it for a moment. You hurt for so long with his decision, but now you know why. He did it because he loved you so much. It reminded you of your ex-fiance. He broke things off because he loved you and wanted you to find your true happiness. He knew it wasn’t with him as much as he wanted it to be. 
Funny how it’s the same concept with Miguel, but not quite. Miguel’s way was harsher and broke you. But he’s here now apologizing and on his knees. 
All the feelings of your life with Miguel come back surfacing. The good and the bad. But he was the best thing in your life. 
“And what would we do after this? Would you just leave and never see me again? After everything that’s been said?” 
He grabs your cheeks and pushes you back a little. His face is pained as he thinks of a response. He leans in, kissing your forehead before kissing your nose and then your cheeks. “I don’t know anymore. Lyla asked me the same thing.” 
You smiled softly. “Lyla… I missed her.” 
Miguel smiled as well, tears in his eyes. “She misses you everyday. She might be the reason why I came tonight.”
“I’m glad, then,” you say. This brings another smile to his face and your heart warms. Your whole body warms. 
“Miguel,” you whisper. He leans in again, pressing his lips to your nose. You inhale his scent for a moment. 
“I can’t repair what’s been done.” 
“You can’t,” you concede. “But we can take it day by day.” 
“Really?” He says with a little happier tone. 
You nod. “But you can’t do that again. Don’t push me away. Don’t make me think you hate me. That I was the worst thing in your life.” 
A sob pulls through you and tears cascade down your cheeks. Miguel is quick to brush them away with his thumbs. He finally brushes his lips against yours and you stiffen at the movement. 
“Can I?” He asks softly. 
Instead of answering, you lean in to close the distance. His lips were soft and the memories of kissing him all over filled your senses. Your body still craved him, you just pushed those feelings as down as you could. 
He continues to kiss with passion, like a man starved. His tongue presses against your teeth and you part your mouth, allowing him inside. He groans a little at the feeling and a moan escapes your own lips. 
“Let me make it up to you, por favor,” he asks, moving his hands to your thighs and running them up until they find your hips. You hitch your breath at the feeling and you nod. 
“It won’t make up for all these years, but you can try,” you say with a little spite and a little tease. Something in you wanted him to work for it. You couldn’t just forgive this easily, he had to know how much you hurt all this time. 
“I’ll live the rest of my days making it up to you then, bebita,” he kisses you once more before moving his hands from your hips to your backside. He pulls you hard closer to him before you’re straddling your hips. You squeal from the sudden movement and then he rises. He starts to walk as you continue to kiss, as if he mesmerized the layout of your apartment from his check-ins. This brought another flutter to your core and you needed him in more ways than one. 
He enters your bedroom and plops you on the bed softly. You shift yourself up to the pillows and he climbs the bed alongside you. Your hands come up to his hair, making their home in his strands as he continues to attack you with kisses. He moves his lips to your neck and you moan loudly, bucking your hips up. He groans from the sounds. 
“Bite me,” you plead through breaths. 
“Estás seguro?” he asks, lifting his lips from your neck for a brief second. You push his head back down to your bare skin and nod. 
“Yes, please, Mig. Bite me like you used to. Fuck me like you used to. Make me whole again,” you plead. You can’t help the tears that come back to your eyes and fall down your cheeks. He doesn’t notice though, which you’re grateful for. 
He obliges though, kissing your neck and then you feel something piercing you. His fangs sink into your skin and it feels wet instantly. You moan through it, leaning down to bite his own neck. 
“F-fuck,” he moans once his fangs pull out. He lifts his head to look at you and it’s like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen. His eyes light up and then turn into a feral thing you were so used to in the past. 
Miguel knew how to be gentle with you when he could, but you always noticed the way his eyes would turn red with a primal need to love you until you were thrashing and screaming his name, clenching around him. 
You needed him to go that far. You wanted him to. 
“Don’t hold back,” you whisper finally. 
His eyes search yours before he nods and snakes his hand under your hair and wraps his fingers around the strands until he can pull your neck the other way. He leans in and you feel that pain again as he sinks his fangs into the other side of your neck. Your hips buck up again and you gasp. 
“Smell so good, taste so good,” he murmurs. His lips travel lower, kissing your collarbone. He helps you out of your mundane clothes before you’re lying naked in front of him. With a press of his watch on his wrist, his suit pixelates into nothing until he’s there naked over you. You forgot for a moment his suit does that. 
“Please, Mig,” you say in deep breaths as you feel his erection pressing against your hip. You reach down blindly, feeling for his cock and then caressing it in up and down motions. He groans through this and curses under his breath, jutting his hips further into your hand. 
“Need you,” he pleads. 
“You have me,” you assure him. 
He lifts himself on his knees which causes your hands to fall from his cock. He then begins to stroke himself and you spread your legs around him. His eyes glance down at your core and your cheeks heat. 
“So fucking pretty and wet already for me, bebita. Just like I knew you’d be.” 
You just nod as you stay transfixed on him, rubbing his cock before he positioned himself at your entrance. You didn’t care for him to prep you, you needed him now. 
“It’s going to hurt, tell me to stop if you–” 
“I don’t care,” you cut him off. You made a point by reaching down and grabbing his wrist around his cock and aligning yourself with his tip. You pressed his tip against your fold and you both gasped. You shut your eyes briefly at the wonderful sensation. 
He always fucked you so well, that was something you missed. And now he was here, doing just that. 
“Fuck, you’re taking me so well. Such a good fucking girl,” he grunts as he presses himself into you, inch by inch. 
The pain soared throughout your body with each inch, but you didn’t care. You finally had him again and your cunt clenched around him. He moaned at the movements, but you couldn’t help yourself. 
When he finally pressed into you all the way, you both took deep breaths. He leaned in, pressing his palms into the mattress to support himself. He shifted a little, moving inside you and you whined. 
“So big,” you gasped. 
“You can take it, bebita,” he cooed. “You always did so good for me, you can do it again. Okay?” 
You nod, biting your lip as he moved his hips to slowly pull out of you and then he slammed back in, causing you to shift up on the bed from his strength. He curses under his breath again and you whine at the stretch of him. His girth was bigger than you remembered and you swore he was splitting you in half, but you loved it. 
“More, more,” you begged and he obliged. He snapped his hips back and forth into you, earning a cry from your lips at each thrust. 
“So pretty when you cry for me,” he groans as his hips start to grow sloppy. He was getting closer to his release and you were too. 
Your core tightened and your pussy clenched around his cock in a beautiful way. 
“So close,” you mumbled through his thrust. 
“Come with me, bebita,” he says before leaning down, sinking his fangs into your neck once more. This makes all your sensations come alive and you can’t hold back anymore. Your legs wrap around his waist, causing him to push deeper into you and hitting the best parts. 
“I’m going to–” you screamed before you felt everything explode. You saw stars, your body was shaking, and he was holding onto your tightly. He dropped his head into the crevice of your neck and muttered nonsense as he came right after you. Rope after rope of his cum filled you up and you clenched around him even more, milking his cock.
“Oh, fuck,” he whimpered as his hips stuttered and he collapsed over you. “Please don’t do that, not gonna last the night.” 
You giggled, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist. You both breathed intensely but you were so fucking happy. 
“I love you, bebita,” he finally says, lifting himself to look at you. He wipes a strand of hair that was stuck on your forehead. You grab his face and kiss him. He moans deeply and his cock twitches inside you. 
You squirm underneath him. “I love you too, Miguel. Always have, always will.”
He kisses you back with more passion. “You mean it?” 
You nod and laugh as he tickles your side. You try to squirm away, but it’s hard with his cock still in you. Your pussy flutters around him again and he groans. “Bebita, that will only make me go for another round.” 
“I know,” you confess with a smile. 
You had years of catching up to do, anyways. You didn’t plan to leave that bed anytime soon. 
Miguel smiled and wrapped his arms around you before flipping you both over. His back plopped on the bed and you were straddling him above, your head laying on his chest. 
“You don’t have to ever forgive me,” he whispers, stroking your bare back. “But I hope you give me the time to make it up to you.” 
You lift your head, resting your chin on his chest. He cranes his neck to look down at you. 
“It’s not too late,” you finally answer and those words were all he needed to hear.
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p1utofairy · 7 months
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PAC: “good karma my aesthetic. keep my conscience clear, that's why i’m so magnetic.” 🩰🍥🫧🪷
• what do you need to hear right now?
disclaimer ✩: take what resonates, leave what doesn't. i really appreciate y’all sm <3 for the patience, the love, the feedback and support. y’all are the greatest ever. i’m open to pac suggestions as well, so don’t hesitate to slide in my ask box! xoxo.
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pile 1 ☂️ —
heyyy pile 1 ⭐️ what you need to hear right now is: release. relax and let go of any unhealthy attachments you may have to a certain person, place, idea or thing. i think you've been holding onto someone/something or the idea of what it could be/could’ve been. i pick up a feeling of yearning. you’ve been wanting something to work out in your favor, so you’ve been holding out…waiting to see if this situation will turn out how you anticipate. big 3 of wands energy. you’ve been waiting awhile now (i’m hearing weeks for some, months for others) for a clear answer. i think the more you wait around and stall things, the less likely things will go into motion. don’t chase, attract. remember that things will flow naturally to you and it’ll always work out in your favor no matter what — when one door shuts, several more will open. don’t put a time frame on it, you’ll get your answer/wish/clarity when you least expect. keep focusing on yourself and what you’re currently doing! whether that be going to school, work, the gym, studying, spending time with friends, etc. there’s a certain area in your life that you greatly want change to occur in, i’m heavily picking up for some that this is in regards to your love life, and again — i keep hearing that things will unfold in your favor when you least expect. very soon. you’re on the brink of something great, just don’t overthink it. relax, take a breath and just BE. your guides will handle the rest. love, prosperity and abundance are on the way to you. it just may not appear in the way you envision, which doesn’t mean it won’t happen at all. think about it this way, you might fantasize about coming across your dream person while you’re in a bookstore (on some ‘harry met sally’ type shit lol) so every time you go into a bookstore you’re kinda anticipating that to happen, but let’s say your busy at work or you’re frantically trying to prioritize doing your school work and studying and out of nowhere you look up and make eye contact with this person you’ve never seen before but you can feel the ✨vibe✨ like WHOA that’s…my person. i just see you being in your element when you meet this person pile 1, your mind will not be preoccupied/you will not have any precognitive thoughts — your person will just reveal themselves to you out of the blue. okay i feel like i’m getting carried away lol but everything’s gonna work out even better than you imagined pile 1 💗 trust that.
other channeled messages:
don't settle for less, pink + white by frank ocean, strawberry milkshake, chemtrails over the country club by lana del rey, leo sun, cancer moon, vedic astrology
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pile 2 🦢 —
what's goodddd pile 2! i feel like you're in your self-love/healing era. you just bounced back from something and you did it with such resilience, ease and grace might i add. i'm hearing church girl by beyoncé, “i'm gonna love on me, nobody can judge me but me! i was born free.” okayyyyyy pile 2 i love this for y'all. i think some of you are really working on strengthening your throat chakra by speaking up for yourself and setting boundaries. just saw a meme that said “how i reclaimed the word ‘cunt’ by being one” OH WOW WOW WOW. i think you’re just over a lot of people and their bullshit, you may have just gotten out of a relationship, had a friendship breakup or recently left a job. good for you 💗whichever situation applies to you, i know it was draining and heavy on your shoulders. you finally feel like a weight has been lifted and you can spread your wings and be free. idk why i’m hearing some of you might be listening to a lot of lana del rey lately? (random but REAL af lol) i love that you know yourself at the core pile 2, you can’t fake it…if somethings not pleasing you or it’s not in your best interest, you know how to walk away and find something better. you don’t even know it, but you're inspiring to a lot of people. i think what you need to hear is: keep being your true authentic self. never forget where you came from and who helped you along the way, because i see that you have a big, bright and successful future ahead of you pile 2. you’re gonna be a star. “the diamond in the rough” from aladdin is what i’m hearing. you’ve got the wit, talent and empathy to get where you need to be in life. i wish you nothing but happiness and success pile 222 ♾️
other channeled messages:
hurricane by bridgit mendler, switch a n**** out by summer walker, olivia pope, sagittarius rising, cancer moon, pisces energy, save your tears remix by the weeknd & ariana grande, on my shoulders by sabrina claudio, red dress
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pile 3 💵 —
hi pile 3 🤗 i’m getting rich vibes from y’all already lmfao, even if you aren’t (yet) there’s this energy of being very well-kept and liking the nicer things in life. you love you some good ol’ retail therapy. the message you need to hear right now is: spend your money wisely. i think you need to budget/save a bit more pile 3, you can sometimes go a bit overboard and indulge in the latest clothes, upscale restaurants or beauty products. you like nice things!!! there’s nothing wrong with that at all, you just need to make sure you’re prioritizing and balancing your earnings. some of you that picked this pile have very young energy lol like i can see you chilling at like 12am scrolling on youtube/tiktok and ooo’ing and aaa’ing at so many different product reviews and adding shit to your cart. some of you are tempted to buy stuff from the tiktok shop too lolll that was so oddly specific but i also feel like you've been big on protecting your peace lately. kickin’ back by mila j is coming to mind, “i’m kickin' back and i’m lightin' up doin' what the fuck i want. just rolled a wood, i’m feelin' good. just me, myself and this blunt.” i know das rightttt pile 3 🤭 you know your worth and you’re not settling for less than anything that you deserve — i love this.
other channeled messages:
luxurious by gwen stefani, need to know by doja cat, i just had an epiphany i need to go to tiffany’s, fenty gloss bomb, chanel chance, scorpio moon, catching flights not feelings
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yoursjaeyun · 11 months
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harder — sim jaeyun.
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p. bf!jake x gf!reader g. smut, mdni w. p***y eating (fem receiving), foreplay, teasing sub!reader, hair pulling, explicit language, nicknames, dirty talk. lmk if i need to add more. an. i think i just made the hottest comeback ever ngl.. /hj. anyways, its been a while since i made a drabble, considering my lack of motivation for writing, idk if yall will like this one sjsb, but enjoy my loves <3 i missed doing these.
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“I’m home.”
Your boyfriend walked through the door visibly exhausted. You knew the schedules for him this week were tight and he hadn’t got the chance to spend time with you like usual, but you understood and tried to make the best of it.
“How was work?” you asked, you watched his every move as he took off his jacket and shoes before walking towards you; immediately laying down in-between your legs while he hugged your waist. “The same everyday.”
“Have the members been helping you out lately?” you began to play with his hair; the way you scratched and massaged his scalp gently made him groan against your stomach, already going into oblivion from how good it felt — so he hummed sweetly in response.
“I’m sure you’ve done your best today, baby.”
His hands made their way under your shirt — and out of nowhere, he started to place soft kisses on your bear waist, shivering from his touch. He played with the waistbands of your shorts, then lifting himself up to kiss you.
You tilted your head to deepen into his mouth as your lips danced together in unison; at this point you were too drunk in his clasp — the way he caressed your thighs up to your stomach, his lips, his everything, you were melting.
And in melting i mean soaked.
Nothing but the sound of saliva filled the room. You whined after he broke the kiss so suddenly; just for him to go further down from your body, placing wet kisses onto your thighs as his hooded eyes stared at you.
“Can I?”
You could never say no, so you nodded in response. His hand went under your stomach for him to lift you up, pulling down your shorts easily — leaving him with your panties. The wet patch was already noticeable for him to see, smirking at the sight, blushing in embarrassment.
“Jaeyun.. please.” you begged, you were desperate. Too desperate, considering you missed him that much. “Patience, baby girl.” he then slowly tugged down your underwear, throwing it elsewhere.
“Fuck, you’re so wet..”
“Just for you—” you moaned when he started to give you kitten licks, “—mmh, don’t tease..” his nose nudged against your clit perfectly before wiggling his tongue inside of you, you gasped as he easily slid in from how soaked you were. He moved his muscles along your velvety walls, lapping all the juices there were.
Jake loved, loved eating you out, he could never get enough of you the way you tasted, and even smelled was his fever dream.
and there you were, a moaning mess just for him and him only. Your angelic and sweet moans made him want more of you, his tongue going in and out of your hole. He looked up when his tongue was buried deep inside, seeing your lips confined between your lips, your eyes closed shut from the immense pleasure.
“Jakey..” you exhaled deeply, your pussy gushed at the sudden touch of his tongue on your sensitive bud, trying to lift your hips— but he knew already, helping you lift yourself up with his hands so he could adjust to eating you out more easily. His lips were sucking, nibbling, licking onto every spot possible, grinding his tongue along your folds in a faster pace.
He was the perfect defenition of being pussy drunk.
You felt the familiar feeling in your stomach, indicating you were close. Your moans were louder than ever before. Not even realising that your hands ended up in his hair once again from the pleasure. “I- I’m close.. fuck!” he patted your hips in a reassuring way, signalling for you to cum for him.
and you did. The stars in your eyes began to form as your pussy clenched against his mouth while he kept going. You yelped when you felt him groan loudly— realising you pulled too hard on his hair. but he continued to clean whatever that was left coming out your hole.
“Shit— I-” you tried to talk but he instead smashed his lips onto yours again, tasting yourself on his tongue. “Did i.. did i pull too hard? I’m sorry—” he was seemingly unamused, so you let him finish the make out session with you.
“You’re so cute.” he chuckles.
“Maybe pull harder next time.”
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YOURSJAEYUN EST. 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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moonchildquinn · 7 months
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warnings!!: alright you know the drill, !!18+ only!!, minors stay tf away or i’ll smack your ankles with a razor scooter (iykyk) slight choking, spanking, orgasm denial, unprotected PIV (wrap that shit folks) slight creampie if you look hard enough, little bit of degrading, a couple pet names and a little surprise at the end. if i missed anything please tell me and i will add it! this is not proofread as none of my fics usually are. i’m a bit rusty on the writing game so if you hate this please keep it to yourself or i’ll cry anyway enjoy! 🤍
word count: 1.7k
idk what to title this so uh just simple:
Older!Mean!Eddie x Fem!Reader!
You sat at the bar, nursing the same drink you ordered since you had got there, scooping out the area for a nice little fuck for the night, but not a single guy in the bar had caught your eye so you sighed ready to give up as you finish your drink. You’re about to pay when a deep raspy voice next to you speaks.
“Could I get you another?” He asked. You looked at him and your breath was taken away. In front of you was one of the most beautiful men you have ever seen. He was older, you could tell by the gray littering his beard. He had long curly, messy hair and his smile lit up the dim bar. You could see he was covered in tattoos and he had his lip pierced as well. He looked like a rockstar. You smile, sad that you’re going to turn him down.
“I was actually about to head out.” You say politely.
“Understandable, have a great night.” He nods his head about to leave but you end up stopping him. You needed to get to know this stranger, you didn’t know why but you just needed to.
“Well one drink wouldn’t hurt I guess.” You say.
“You sure? Don’t feel like you have to be polite and have a drink with me darlin’.” He says.
“I want to, I promise.” You say. He nods his head and calls for the bartender and you both order a drink. You two end up hitting it off, sharing stories and laughs, getting to know each other as the night went on. You were right Eddie was older, a full 20 years older than you but you both didn’t seem to let that get in the way. After a few drinks you got a bit bold and decided to invite him back to your place.
“Sure, I would love to.” He smiles as you both get up. He pays the tab and you both head out.
“You really didn’t have to pay the tab.” You say as you stand there waiting for a ride. Neither of you wanted to get behind the wheel which was smart, obviously.
“I’m the one who offered to get your drinks.” He says.
“A true gentleman huh?” You tease a little.
“Guess my uncle raised me right.” He smiles. A car pulls up and he opens the door for you and lets you in first then follows after you. The car ride was silent but it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. When you get to your apartment, Eddie hops out of the car first and then opens the door for you, holding his hand out for you. You take it and step out and you both walk inside your building. As you both stood in the elevator the tension was growing and you both knew it was. Your patience was running thin, you just wanted him to fuck you.
The elevator doors open and you walk down the hall to your apartment and as soon as you get the door unlocked Eddie is pushing you in and closing the door before pinning you against it and kissing you deeply. You moan softly as your hands come up and you tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging slightly as you do causing him to groan out. Well you got exactly what you wanted, a nice fuck. Eddie brings his hands down and grabs your thighs in his hands and picks you up and carries you over to the couch. He sets you down but you get up and grab his shirt and drag him to your bedroom. You push him down onto the bed and straddle his lap and kiss him, the desperate need to have his lips on yours growing stronger. His hands go down to your ass and squeezes hard causing you to moan out into the kiss.
“Fuck me, please.” You beg. He nods his head and moves you off of him.
“Strip for me.” He breathes out and you do. Eddie’s eyes watch you as you slowly remove your clothes, his cock growing harder by the second. Once you are naked he pulls you down on his lap, placing his hand around your throat and having you look at him. “Want to have a little more fun?”
“Yes.” You breathe out. At this point you would agree to anything. Eddie smirks at your agreement and kisses you hard. He brings his free hand down and rubs his fingers along your soaked slit, groaning at the feeling. He does that for a bit, causing you to become a whiny mess for him. Finally he slips two fingers in and starts off slow.
“Here’s how this is going to play out, you’re not allowed to cum until I say you can, if you disobey me you’ll be punished, understand?” He asked you. Chills go down your body as you nod your head. “I need to hear you.”
“I understand.” You whisper.
“Good girl.” He picks up the pace of his fingers ever so slightly, his grip on your throat getting a little tighter as he does, adding to your pleasure. His fingers move expertly inside of you and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. Your eyes roll back slightly as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm. You’re so focused on the movement on his fingers that you forget his rule and you cum all over his fingers. You grip his shirt tightly in your hands as you mindlessly rock against his fingers. Eddie watches you ride out your high, anger boiling up inside of him. He had one simple rule and you couldn’t be bothered to listen to him. Once you come back to him, your face heats up as you look at him, shame written all over your face.
“I’m sorry.” You say.
“It's okay angel.” Eddie lies through his teeth as he helps you up. “Get on your hands and your knees for me.” He demands, his tone sends a shiver down your spine a little and also goes straight to your core. You do as told and get on your hands and knees. You hear Eddie riding himself of his clothes before he gets behind you. He grabs your hips and pulls you against him, making you gasp as you not only feel how hard he is but feel how big he is. Was it even going to fit? Eddie chuckles slightly at your reaction. “It’ll fit, don’t worry. Now remember how I told you if you didn’t listen to me you would be punished?” Your heart drops instantly.
“But you said it was okay.” You whimper out.
“And you said you understand, it looks like we both lied.” He smirks before he brings his hand up and spanks you, hard. You yelp out, barely processing it before he’s spanking you again and again. “Such a pathetic little thing, couldn’t handle one simple order could you?”
“I’m sorry.” You say, your voice more whiny than you meant for it to sound.
“I’m sorry.” Eddie mocks. He continues to spank you until your ass is raw and tears are spilling down your face. Once he’s done he presses your face down into the mattress and slides his cock into you with ease, the stretch burning slightly but feeling so good at the same time it basically knocks the wind from your chest. He keeps his hand on your head and his other hand grips onto your hip as he sets a brutal pace. Your body feels ignited as your eyes roll back and loud moans leave your lips.
“Mmm fuck! You feel so good angel, so fucking good!” Eddie groans out. You want to respond but he was just fucking you too good that all that you could manage was moans, whines, and whimpers. You could feel another orgasm building and Eddie could tell you were close too from the way you squeezed him. Just as that feeling was about to snap Eddie pulled out.
“No!” You cry out.
“Oh you thought the spanks were your only punishment? Oh no, I’m not done with you quite yet.” He says. He brings his hand down and starts rubbing your clit causing you to whine out. If he didn’t want you to cum why must he torture you? You could feel yourself ready to go over the edge again but he stops once again.
“Eddie please!” You beg.
“Should have obeyed me the first time, then you wouldn’t be in this position now would you?” He asked.
“I’m sorry!” You plead.
“And I told you I don’t care, now shut up!” He snaps and you keep your mouth shut after that. Eddie keeps his little game going for hours, getting you really close to the edge and then stopping. By now you were a mess and you just wanted to cum. Eddie smirks at how he has you before he finally slides his cock into you again and starts up his brutal pace. Your voice was a bit horse as you continued to let out moan, knowing that once again you weren’t going to be cumming. You could feel your orgasm growing and you waited for Eddie to pull away but he didn’t.
“I’m going to cum!” You whine out, hoping the warning will alert him.
“Cum for me angel.” He rasps. You cry out as you cum, hard, all over his cock, relief filling you as you finally get your release. Eddie keeps going, coaxing a few more orgasms from you before he finally cums himself. He groans loudly before he pulls out, his cock twitching slightly as he watches his cum drip down a little before he uses his fingers to push it back in. You both collapse down on the bed, catching your breaths before you both look at each other, wide smiles on your faces.
“Holy shit that was amazing.” You finally breathe out.
“I told you roleplaying was fun, just have to know how to do it right.” Eddie says, making you nod your head in agreement. “I wasn’t too rough was I?”
“Never.” You smile as you scoot closer to your boyfriend and snuggle into him. “Thanks for this.”
“Told you I would do anything for you, now rest for a bit then I promise to get you cleaned up.” He kisses your forehead, a smile on his face and smile to match on yours.
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give me a minute (2/2) | chef luca
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pairing: chef luca x ex-wife!reader word count: 6.6k warnings: established former relationship, discussions of separation and divorce, discussions of moving on, luca and reader has a son, brief mention of blood and minor injury, smut 18+ (fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, size kink? idk luca's big, dirty talk, creampie) notes: it's finally here! thank you everyone for your patience, i am a slow writer by nature and life gets in the way, but i finally got around to finish it! happy reading, and do comment, reblog, and send me asks to tell me what you think <;3 ✨follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notifications to get alerted for my latest fics ✨
<<< read part 1 here >>>
06.13 PM
Your apartment has never felt so claustrophobic after that little moment you shared with Luca. You try to stay busy in the next hour —tidying up Alfie’s room even after he made it up, checking your email four times, even doing the laundry, for fuck’s sake— as Luca keeps to himself in the kitchen area. Whether Alfie is obliviously enjoying his screen time or purposely ignoring the weird tension between his parents, you’re not entirely sure. Right now, you’re just grateful that he’s not saying anything at the moment.
The boy simply creeps up to the kitchen counter with a shy eagerness about him. “How long ‘til dinner, Dad?”
“3 more minutes, Chef,” Luca answers, focused on the task at hand, so poker-faced that it makes his son giggle.
“I’m not a chef, you’re a chef!”
“Well, where I work, we call everyone in the kitchen ‘chef.’ Out of respect.”
Alfie climbs onto the dining bench in interest, peering up to watch his father set the dish on the plates meticulously. Luca doesn’t miss how the boy deeply inhales the delicious smell in the air.
“Smells yummy.”
“Thank you,” Luca replies, his excitement seems muted although his heart is soaring. He looks up to find Alfie staring at the plate, chin propped up on his little fist. You’ve always said that he looks just like his dad, but in that moment, Luca only sees you. Alfie has the way your mouth tugs ever so slightly into a smile, the way your eyes shine in childlike wonder. In quiet thoughtfulness.
No Michelin star, earned or retained, would ever amount to this.
“Can you go get your mum and tell her dinner’s ready, please?” He softly asks Alfie, as if not wanting to disrupt this peaceful silence. “Thank you, Chef.”
“Yes, chef.” The six-year-old salutes him and pads over to your home office, which doubles as the guest bedroom. The door is open, and he sees you reorganizing the linen closet with your back to him. He hugs you from behind, startling you.
“Oh!” You put your hand on his head, stroking him lightly. “Hey, bub.”
“Daddy told me to come get you and say dinner’s ready.”
“Gotcha. Thank you.” You half-expect him to run off like he usually does, but he lingers, his arms still wrapped around you. “What’s up, bubbie?”
“Nothing.” He buries his face against your side. “Love you, Mommy.”
“I love you too, bubbie.” This makes you smile, pleasantly surprised at this seemingly random admission.
“Love Daddy too, but don’t tell him that,” he whispers as he looks up at you, putting his forefinger in front of his mouth.
“Why not?”
“Sometimes he gets sad when I say that,” he murmurs. “He doesn’t tell me, but I know it.”
Oh. His playful exterior sometimes makes you forget just how emotionally sensitive he is. And it breaks your heart that he can see through the complicated adult emotions with his childlike eyes. 
“Alfie…” you level with him and pull him closer, “Your dad loves you very very much, and I’m sure he’d be happy to hear you say that. He’s just sad because… he’s been away, and he misses you a lot.”
“He should come home, then.”
It’s so simple, the way Alfie puts it. His Dad comes home and reunites with him and you, and his puzzle would piece together perfectly again. And you all live happily ever after. The end.
The truth, of course, is not so simple. But maybe, just for tonight… Maybe you and Luca can sacrifice a few of your own puzzle pieces. For your baby boy.
So you get back on your feet and guide your son out of the room. “Come on, bub. Let’s see what Daddy cooked for us, hm?”
When you and Alfie turn the corner into the kitchen-living area, Luca is wiping the side of the plate neatly. He smiles at you somewhat nervously, like he’s not sure what to do with himself, so you throw him the figurative olive branch.
“Smells amazing,” you compliment him as you and Alfie take your seats. “What are we having, Chef?”
Luca’s eyes light up and your heart stops. You stopped calling him ‘Chef’ long ago, when the moniker became synonymous with workaholism and neglect. But there’s no venom in the way you say it tonight. Call him sentimental, but it reminds him of the early summer days in the tiny apartment you first shared in Chicago.
Of blueberry pies and barely there bumps.
He has to remind himself that this whole ‘happy family’ shtick is just a charade now, it’s all for Alfie, it doesn’t mean anything for the two of us, but he can’t help but miss this.
And little does he know, so do you.
“Well, buckle up, you guys, because we are having…” He carries the plates over and serves it to you and Alfie with a flourish, “Baked sweet potato wedges with Mediterranean dip, and our pièce-de-résistance… Alfie’s Nuggies.”
It looks nothing short of beautiful, with the wedges fanned out like autumn leaves underneath a colorful burst of cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, olives, and feta cheese. The chicken nuggets are rich golden brown against the brilliant white plate. The splatters of sauce (is that Tahini?) is a hint of thoughtful chaos on the dish.
Your six-year-old let out a little noise of awe and amazement next to you, but no sound escapes you—not for the longest time.
“This is…” you look up at Luca as if he would have the word you’re looking for.
But his blue eyes just look a lot like I love you.
“Thank you,” you ultimately say, with absolutely no pretense whatsoever.
And if he does hear an ‘I love you’ hidden somewhere in there… he hopes he’s not imagining things.
*** 
08:37 PM
If you could travel just a few hours back in time and tell yourself that you would spend the whole day stuck at home in a nasty storm with your son and his father that you’re divorcing—and that you’d be okay with it, you would’ve probably scheduled yourself an MRI scan because clearly something is wrong.
But the night is winding down. Luca is tucking Alfie into bed for the first time in months. You are washing dishes in the quiet accompaniment of steady rain and running water, and everything feels just right.
“He’s out like a light,” Luca informs you quietly as he reemerges from Alfie’s bedroom and stops right by the kitchen counter. “Need a hand?”
“Nah, I’m just about done,” you casually wave him off. “You want anything to drink?”
“Uh… what do you got?”
“Scotch, gin…” you pause, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. The sink tap squeaks a little as you shut it off. “...wine.”
His heart skips. Don’t overthink it, he reminds himself. “Red or white?”
“Take your pick,” you shrug nonchalantly. 
Luca reaches up to see the bottles of wine you have in store, and you try not to pay too much attention as his shirt rides up around the waist—or the sleeve, showing off the remnants of Alfie’s crayon work over his inks… you’re just two co-parents hanging out. It’s normal, right?
“What about the Malbec?” he eventually chooses, taking out the bottle.
He’s always loved Malbec—this particular brand of Malbec you brought him when he first invited you for dinner on your third date.
Don’t overthink it, you remind yourself. “Yeah, sure.”
You pick up two wine glasses and set them down on the dining table, shuffling into the corner bench. Luca settles into the other bench, directly against the kitchen counter, pouring the wine onto both glasses.
“How many bedtime stories did Alfie manage to get out of you?” you pipe up, swirling the purplish liquid around.
“Just one…” he sips on his wine thoughtfully. “Although he made me read it three times.”
You smile, bemused. “Which one was it?”
“‘The Bear Who Did.’”
“Ah, yeah. He’s been into that one lately,” you muse. “But… for what it’s worth, I’m glad he asked you to tuck him in tonight.”
The two of you exchange a soft look. A ceasefire. A truce, at least when it comes to your son. Because you really do want Luca to have a good relationship with Alfie.
“Me too.”
“And I’m sorry you had to… make do with spending the day with Alfie here.”
He shakes his head softly. “Nah, don’t be. I had a good time. It’s nice to just hang out… at home.”
At home, the words echo in your head.
With you, they echo in his, loud and unsaid.
“So, uh… how have you been?”
“Ah, you know how it is. Work is kicking my ass—my current client’s only two blocks away, but the house is a total fixer-upper, and Alfie’s… Alfie.” You don’t want to backtalk your own son, although you both know how trying he can be sometimes. “But it’s all good. My mom helps out with Alfie, and Jess insists that I go out and live a little every now and again.”
“And do you? Live a little?”
“I mean, within reason. I can’t go clubbing ‘til 4am anymore. I think I’m getting old…” you stretch your arms, feeling that soreness just from your daily activities.
Luca grins, raising his glass. “I hear you. I don’t even really go out anymore.”
“Seriously?” 
“Mm-hm.”
You make an incredulous face. It would make sense for you not to go out much, with Alfie and everything. But he was alone, abroad… “Why, though?”
He just shrugs lightly. “I’m working. Whenever I’m off, I mostly just… eat or sleep.”
“I somehow find that hard to believe.” You take a dubious sip. You both know how much Luca enjoys grabbing a cheeky pint. He’s British; it’s in his blood, goddammit.
“Oh come on…”
“You don’t even go out drinking or whatever? Meet people?”
His gaze flashes towards you almost playfully. “Do you?”
Your face falls, not expecting to be caught so off-guard with such an innocent question. And upon seeing that, his face falls. Shit. And with that, the air between you shifts so dramatically.
Stupidly, you still try to save the conversation. “Of course my friends and I go out—”
“You know that’s not what I meant.” His voice darkens, his blue eyes piercing through you. 
This conversation is a long time coming. It’s a natural progression of your relationship—or the lack thereof. You separate, you get divorced, and eventually you move on. Two years is a more than acceptable time to start dating again. And still, you phrase out your next words very carefully.
“I’ve been on dates here and there…”
Luca sucks in a slow, calculated breath. “Does Alfie know?”
You shake your head. “It’s nothing serious so far.”
He’s not sure what’s worse, the fact that it’s nothing serious, or that you’re holding out for something serious in the future.
“Look, we both know this is happening sooner or later…”
“I know,” he quickly recovers—or as much as he can recover. He just stares down the stem of his glass.  “It just… It’s a lot to take in, that’s all.”
“I understand.” The wine feels like gravel down your throat, and the words coming out of your mouth feel like throwing up a boulder.
“Because I do miss you.”
Your eyes immediately dart over to his, as if you’re not sure you heard it right. “Luca…”
“I miss you everyday. I miss us. I miss everything we used to have.”
Your heart catches—no, stops altogether at his admission. “Luca, we can’t do this anymo—”
He swallows thickly, his jaw setting as he braces himself. “I’ve been thinking about it everyday—the whole time I’m away, and frankly, I’m kicking myself over not telling you this sooner.”
“That’s probably just the homesickness talking.” You turn away. This can’t be possible. This can’t be happening. What the fuck?! “It got you reminiscing about the good old days. Give it time, you’ll come around.” You try to maintain a neutral, distant, cold approach to this, although the crack in your voice betrays you.
“No. That’s not it.”
“Then what the fuck is it?”
Your words cut through the quiet apartment like a flash bang. Luca stops dead in his tracks in his shock, and honestly, so do you. Awful silence hushes over the room, and both of you are almost too afraid to break it. Neither of you even dare to move.
After what seems like forever, Luca moves first. A tear escapes his eye, and he wipes it away with his knuckle hurriedly. “Noma should’ve been a dream. And it is, in a way. I guess.” He stares blankly ahead, his life in Copenhagen replaying in his head like it’s on fast-forward, and the playback seems to just highlight how lonely he is there. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m utterly miserable there. I get up and go to work and I just feel empty. Because what’s the point? You and Alfie are way over here, being a family while I’m… doing what?” He wants to tear his hair out, because this is everything he’s dreamed of, and yet he is living the stuff of nightmares. “It makes no fucking sense.”
It makes even less sense to you. You can’t even begin to process this tangled mess in your head. “Luca… we are almost officially divorced. You’re telling me this now? When everything is—”
“I thought I was doing what was best for you. I thought I should just… let you cut your losses and—”
“The best for me? How the fuck did you think giving up was the best way forward for me?” The thought of it burns your eyes with angry tears. They melt, and you don’t do a thing to stop it from running down your face. “You didn’t think to fight for us while you still could?”
Luca’s heart aches to see that. He is dying to reach out and wipe them away, but he can’t. His voice is quiet and small and almost childlike. “I tried. You were just so… sure about the divorce. You had it all figured out. And I… I thought you had no room for me anymore.”
“I had to keep it together. I had to figure it out—for Alfie’s sake. For mine.” You stare at your little potted sunflower on the windowsill. “I don’t see the point in being vulnerable with you anymore when you’re already set on leaving.”
The words have run out. The whirlwind of emotions has passed. What he feels and what he wants is now very clear.
“I shouldn’t have left.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have.” You wished he didn’t. Everyday for the last two years. And everyday you set yourself up for disappointment because, the truth of the matter is, he did leave. So you stop wishing. “Because I don’t know how to come back from this. I really don’t.”
Nothing that comes out of your mouth is unexpected. But it doesn’t hurt any less to hear it from the horse’s mouth. “It’s just… seeing you guys today… We were a family again. And I would do anything for us to be a family again. Please.”
You sigh heavily. “What else is there to do, Luca…?”
“We can, I don’t know, figure something out, go to couples counseling—”
You groan in frustration, Jesus Christ not this again, wanting to tear your hair out when— CRASH! You accidentally knock over your wine glass and it shatters as it hits the floor. “Shit…”
“Mommy?” Alfie calls you from inside his room, sleepy but alert.
The two of you freeze just before you can move out of your seat. Afraid the slightest of noises would rattle your son.
“Yes, bubbie?” you try to sound bright and normal. Maybe if you can convince him that everything’s fine, he won’t come running in panic. 
“What was that?”
“I just knocked over a glass, kiddo, everything’s okay. Go back to sleep.”
You and Luca wait a few seconds with bated breath. One, two, three… ten seconds go by, and there’s no movement in the bedroom.
The coast is clear.
You scramble down to pick up the shards of glass. The spilled wine looks like blood in the dim light of the room. It’s a painful reminder of the broken pieces of your former life, the casualties. He quickly follows suit, as if struggling to put it all back together. The irony is not lost on either of you, you’re sure of that.
“It’s fine, Luca. I got it, I—” a sharp piece of glass accidentally cuts your palm as you pick it up in hurry. “Fuck!”
“You okay?” He takes your hand as quick as lightning, wanting to inspect the wound, but you snatch it away.
“I’m fine.” You get up on your feet, teetering over to the sink, away from the crime scene, careful not to step on any piece of glass.
Yet he still follows you, walking over to where you’re standing now. “Come on. Let me just take a look.” He reaches out to your wrist, running little circles with his thumb to ease your grasp.
“It’s not a big deal…” you let him look anyway, you figure it’s easier to just let him do his thing than to argue your way out of it. 
His calluses are brittle against your palm, but he handles you with the gentlest touch. The wound is not too big or too deep, but the sight of blood marring your palm makes his heart drop. There’s no visible piece stuck to it, that’s a good sign, he thinks. He rips off some paper towel and wets it on the sink, and softly dab at the gash, cleaning the wound and wiping the blood off.
You grit your teeth, not wanting to show any sign of pain although it stings. “It’s just a little cut…” your tone bears less and less conviction, as if you have no energy left to argue with him on such a small matter.
There’s a very particular way his eyebrows arch when he’s deep in thought. The left one always sits slightly higher than the right. Blue eyes fixed on the object of his focus. A minute gesture behind the chaos in his head. “You need a Band-Aid,” he points out. 
“It’s in the—”
Luca is already opening the drawer next to the stove, taking out a packet of a Star Wars-themed Band-Aid. He still remembers where everything is, and you can’t tell whether the ache in your chest is a good or bad thing.
He puts the Band-Aid on your cut, then takes your hand close to kiss it better, like he used to do.
“Um.” You freeze in your tracks, taken aback. And it seems he’s just as equally as taken aback by his own action. He is flushed with embarrassment, and you feel your face growing hot as well.
He’s the first to break the awkward silence, quiet and tentative. “I’ll clean up the mess. You just hang tight.”
It seems so mundane, sweeping broken glass and cleaning the floor. His body registers it as a simple muscle memory—he must’ve cleaned up messes on this very spot a million times. But his heart is heavy with the burden of your history, and all the pain that comes with your separation. He might not be able to put the pieces back together, but maybe he can clean up the mess and make it nice again for you.
And all the while, you’re stuck to the kitchen counter, watching him so effortlessly reacquainted with his former home. It’s as if he never left. For a confusing moment, it feels like home again. How did you manage without this view, this presence for so long?
Luca puts away the debris in the trash, hidden away in another kitchen drawer next to you, and hovers in front of you, as if wanting to reach out and touch you… but too afraid you’ll push him away.
“Does it still hurt?”
You can’t tear your eyes off of his. The little cut on your hand is but a dull ache now, but the insides of your chest feels like it’s been mangled beyond repair. You burst into tears, sobs ripping through the seams.
His arms wrap around you, keeping your tattered pieces together. Your face is buried in his chest, surrounded by soft cotton and earthy perfume, and your first thought is you can’t remember the last time you were in his arms like this. You rake your mind through all the memories, all the times you hugged each other hello and goodbye and all the times in between, and you can’t remember the last time you stopped, why would you stop—
“My love…” Luca’s voice soothes you, so quietly murmured against your forehead with a soft kiss, yet rings so clear in your ears. He cups your face with both hands, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “It’s okay... I got you.”
The palm of his hand grazes your lips, and you kiss it the way he kisses your Band-Aid earlier. You have no energy left to fight whatever is going on inside you. You don’t understand the nagging urge to be away from him, when being close to him feels this good. You miss his touch and his voice and his face, and you’re so overwhelmed with longing that you close the distance between your lips and his.
Luca gasps when you kiss him—and it feels like the first breath he’s drawn in two years. Your lips are just as he remembers, just as warm and inviting and familiar, and he relishes coming home to them tonight. He didn’t think he would be so lucky ever again, but now you’re here, kissing life back into him again.
Against your better judgment, you stumble into the bedroom, careful to make as little sound as possible as you tread down the hallway. Still tangled in each other. Refusing to let go even for a second. His five o’clock shadow scratches your skin, following the trail of his lips down your neck.
You push him into bed and climb on top of him without a single thought. You need him close, closer than the past two years, closer than now, and your clothes feel like they’re in the way. Of his hands, of his mouth, of his warmth…
You tear your dress off and throw it away, and he stops in his tracks. He has every part of you memorized, every curve and every ridge, every notch of your stretch marks, every inch of your C-section scar from Alfie’s birth… and yet he’s looking at you for the first time all over again.
“Beautiful…” it escapes his mouth just like that, and you kiss him senseless in return. You worry that if you stop, the moment will pass and this whole thing turns out to be just an illusion.
Or worse, a mistake.
You tug his t-shirt over his head, trying not to linger on his broad chest too long. He gets the idea—he is dying to say something, but doesn’t—and just unclasps your bra in response. He keeps his mouth busy by kissing and licking and sucking your newly exposed breasts.
It’s not that you haven’t been touched like this in a while; it’s just that you haven’t been touched by him like this for so long.. “Luca…”
He never thought he’d hear that again. His name in a wanton sigh, uttered by the lost love of his life. He’s not one to waste his chance. “It’s okay. I got you, my love. I got you.”
Because for the first time in a long time, it’s true. He’s got you. He’s got your body underneath him, your nipple in his mouth, your sweet sex in his hand.
God.
You’re so soft, so warm, so wet against his fingers. The little stuttered moan you let out sounds absolutely heavenly. He remembers exactly the last time he was here.
Christmas Eve, two years ago. 
Things had been tense long before that, but Luca was home and able to spend some time with his wife and kid at last. You didn’t seem all that chuffed having him around—whether he was here or not brought out that “neutral look of displeasure” from you these days— but at least you didn’t pull away when he rested his head on your shoulder as the three of you watched Jurassic Park (Alfie’s all-time favorite). Didn’t roll your eyes and turn away when he kissed you and wished you happy Christmas before bed.
And he wanted so desperately for you to openly want him again.
So he tentatively deepened the kiss and reiterated his love for you in every inch of your body that he could get his hands on. Trying to convince you that he was still here. Trying to convince himself that with every orgasm he pried out of you, that you still wanted him there.
But you just… laid there and watched. Hands locked in on the sheets, not even touching him. Motionless as he went through the motions of his thrusts. Numb as he touched and kissed and fucked you the way you used to like. He was fighting a losing battle. He might as well have been making love to a ghost. 
“Luca…” Your breathless voice snaps him out of his own intrusive thoughts, more clear and alive and real than any memory of you posing no desire for him.
“I— yeah, sorry. I just…” he shakes off his own thoughts.
“Hurry up, come on…” you needily thrust yourself into his hand.
“You sure?”
No, and neither does he. But at this point, you’re much too stubborn about your decision in the divorce and much too prideful to admit that you want him back and maybe just a tad too eager to make a mistake with him.
So you nod your head yes, and with a searing kiss, he fingerfucks you the way you needed him to. 
“Oh, God… fuck…” you sigh under the undoing of his fingers. It’s like he never forgot how to work your body. His fingers play a pattern on your clit that makes you sing. And when one slides into you, crooking and curling against your silky heat…
“Luca, I— now.”
He unlatches his mouth from your nipple almost begrudgingly, as if too sweet to part with you. “Not yet, baby. We can’t…”
“What, why?”
“Because…” he nips at the smooth flesh of your chest thoughtfully. How can he explain it to you in a way that makes sense? “I want…” to take as much time with you as possible, he adds another finger inside you deliciously slow. “I need…” to feel you in every way first, he chants in his head as he kisses you through your orgasm.
Your resolve is slipping, but the craving is as ravenous as ever. You try to squirm in protest anyway. “But…”
“Please.” His lips press against your forehead, eyes squeezed shut. “I got you, okay?”
His blue eyes meet yours, as familiar as the sky you’ve walked under your whole life. As sure as day. And before you realize it, you find yourself nodding along.
Watching him slither further down your body. Mouth paving the way between the valleys of your breasts, up the diamond-hard tops of your nipples.
Down your torso.
Between your nether lips.
You don’t remember the last time you did this either. Memories of attempts to rekindle the romance flash before your eyes. The nights that he climbed into bed late at night after work, still smelling like chocolate or mint or whatever ingredient he was working with that day. Waking you up with the parting of your legs and hushed kisses saying, “Missed you so much, baby…”
“Right there. Yes…” you pant as he laps you up where you’re dripping, catching every drop and coaxing more at the same time.
His eyes close, and he swallows back a needy groan. “Come for me, baby.”
The words shoot right into your core, and you’re suddenly overcome with the waves of pleasure running through you, grinding your hips into his mouth shamelessly. Has he always been so greedy in the way he ate you out?
Your head is spinning with need and you hope the broken words you string up are comprehensible enough for him. “Luca, come on, I can’t—”
“No, please—” he seems to understand just fine, but still he shakes his head and buries his face deeper into you.
“Luca…”
“Wait, just let me—”
So insistent. So stubborn. So… needy. You grasp a fistful of hair on the back of his head. Both heaving, you breathe out,
“Please.” 
The word stops him in his tracks. But it’s not so much the word as it is the gravity that comes with it. Whatever the two of you are doing, whatever you’re feeling is beyond words at this point.
It’s just you and him and this need.
And as much as he wants—needs— to satisfy his hunger, there’s just no way of stopping you anymore. Truth be told, he’s not even sure why he’s been stalling you in the first place. Not when you’re so eager to tug his clothes off and touch him absolutely everywhere. To stroke him, and taste him…
“No, baby.” He stops you just before you slither down his body, settling you back on the bed and caging you underneath him.
You throw him a look, indignant. If he’s gonna hold it off some more, you swear to God—
“No, I…” he kisses you hard, hoping you’ll get that he wants you too. More than anything. And that he’ll give you what you want. Hell, he would give you anything if he could come back to this again for the rest of his life. “Just trust me, okay?”
You marvel at the sight before you. So tall and broad and sturdy. With dark blond locks tousled in passion and eyes lidded from lust and longing, and it makes your heart stop because… there it is.
Love.
As much as you shut it out and as much as you avoid it, love is permanently etched to his actions. Tattooed onto the smallest of things. In the way he kisses your temple softly, and the way he caresses your skin as he aligns himself against you, and the way he holds you as he pushes in…
“Luca…” you gasp sharply.
He stops halfway into you, his eyes searching your face with compassion. “You okay?”
You’re aching and craving the stretch of him all at once, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, so you ultimately nod your head. I’m okay. 
And he knows that deep down. He feels the same. Soothed and tormented by your very presence, although he can’t help but ask, “Do you want me to stop?” Please don’t ask me to stop…
You shake your head quickly. Neither of you would ever dream of it. You would take everything—the weight and the sting of it all— and he would leave everything behind just to have this again.
Your hips colliding again in a frenzy of a rhythm you haven’t played in so long—still remembering every beat like it’s your own pulse. Your walls gripping him like you wouldn’t let him go.
He shudders a little. “I’m gonna come if you keep doing that…”
“I don’t care,” you murmur into his neck with a kiss, “Come.”
“What…?” He can’t have heard that right… right?
“I want you to.”
“Jesus…” he breathes out. “I wanna make this last, baby—”
You shake your head again and wrap your legs around him almost demandingly. “I want you to come inside me and fill me the fuck up… want you dripping down my legs… please…”
“Fuck!” The images flash before his eyes faster than he can stop his hands from grabbing you by the hips, slamming himself into you. 
Nor can he stop himself from coming deep inside you.
There’s no way to describe the way he feels at that moment. The way tension peaks and snaps into release. How it brings you into your climax as well. Your lips must be swollen from the assault of your own teeth as you hold back the filthy noises coming out of you. You don’t mind the building ache in your thigh muscles, because as soon as that warmth fills you up, your body is overcome by waves of bliss.
“Fuck…” he flops back onto his side of the bed—the right side—and quickly gathers you in his chest. It’s an effortless little maneuver, making sense at last as you lay half on top of him.
Your hand finds his—more puzzle pieces coming together as he fills the spaces between your fingers. You bring it to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Surprised to find the gold wedding band still adorning his ring finger.
***
9:56 PM
“Was that really your first time since we… you know?” Your murmured question rings loud in the absence of the rain. The storm has finally passed, but neither of you move—neither even dare to bring it up— afraid to ruin the moment. 
“It was.”
“Not even in a casual, ‘no strings attached’ kind of situation?”
“No.” He looks almost embarrassed to admit it, but there is no hesitation in his answer.
“Wow…” your heart sinks. Is it possible to feel good and bad at the same time?
Luca pauses for a moment. You can see the conflict brewing in his head. “Did you?”
You don’t have to answer. The sheer silence you take is an answer enough.
The confirmation feels like shit, but he tries to stay neutral. His thumb stills on the back of your hand. “Can I ask how many?”
“Gosh, does that even matter?” You sigh. There’s another argument coming—you can feel it.
“No, I just… I wanna know.”
“You don’t really wanna know.”
“Is it a lot?”
“I mean…”
“How many?” 
You take in a sharp breath. There’s no way out of this now. If the truth is what he wants, then the truth is what he shall get. “Twelve.”
He tenses up next to you. The whole world stops, and you can’t help but think, it’s over. There is no way this marriage is salvageable now. “What…?”
“I know that it’s a big number, and I know you might be upset—”
“That is a big number.” He doesn’t say anything about the latter part of her sentence, but it’s obvious that he’s upset, too. “I just… why?”
“I was trying to get over you.” It’s a pathetic answer, but that’s all it is to it. “I couldn’t sleep in this bed for months. I just couldn’t. Slept on the guest bed instead,” you motion at the next room, “and then one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like a switch flipped inside my brain, and I needed to—”
“What?”
“I needed to… overwrite the memories of you,” you admit feebly. “On this bed. On my body.”
Knife, meet heart. He’s not sure what answer he was expecting, but whatever it was, this hurts so much more. “And did it work?”
“Up to a point…” you pause, a sad smile in realization. “It’s funny. I keep getting bits and pieces of you somehow.”
“What do you mean?”
You close your eyes, your memories flashing, reminding you that every single time reminds you of Luca one way or another. “It’s… somebody’s perfume, or the timbre of their voice, or the way they hold my hand…”
“And you see me in them?” 
“Every single one.”
“Jesus…” Luca finds himself relieved and choked up at the same time. He doesn’t want you to ever get rid of your memories of him, but at the same time, it’s painful to hear that you tried anyway.
And you tried very hard.
“I’m sorry.”
He hums, and you realize… he hasn’t let go of your hand. Not once. Not even after your little confession. It makes the argument easier, knowing he’s there. It’ll be easier to part with him again after tonight, you hope, knowing you both did your best to understand. Why you needed to be apart. Why you did the things you did.
The armor has been shed, and the two of you are now naked, in every sense of the word.
Luca turns to look at you, studying your profile. He remembers the last time he was here.
He had just told you about Denmark. Stupid of him to feel excited, to tell you he’d just been offered his dream job, to ask you and Alfie to move someplace new with him, because it turned into a fight.
Worse than a fight; it was a death sentence.
You turned away and stared at the ceiling, and told him you couldn’t do this anymore.
And in some fucked up way, Luca feels as if he’d been brought back in time, and this is his one chance to make it right. So he asks you,
“Do you still love me?” 
You breathe out, heart clenching because in spite of yourself, “I do.”
“Do you want us to try again?”
“Luca…” you sigh heavily, “How would that even work? Alfie and I are here, and you have Noma–”
“No more Noma. I’m giving that up.” The answer is straightforward, and he surprises himself over how easily it rolls off of his tongue. How right.
“What? You wouldn’t…” Your face falls as you turn to him.
“I would. And I am,” he says firmly. “Look, I’ve thought about this for months now. I can’t do Noma anymore, I need to be home.” His gaze softens, and you feel the pattern running on the back of your hand again.
Slow and steady and certain.
The tear rolls off the corner of your eye and onto the pillow with the tiniest drop. “I wanted you to come home…”
“Then let me come home. Please?”
“I want to. I just…” you reach out and cup his face tentatively. “I just want to make sure that we’re not doing anything rash.”
His eyes light up. The only thing that matters is that you want him home, too. It takes him everything to let his logical part of the brain take control. “How about this, then?” Luca pauses thoughtfully. “We’ll take a minute. For me to sort out everything at Noma, find a replacement… and for us to figure out if this is really what we wanna do.
“If it starts to feel like a bad idea, maybe we should rethink it. But if it feels good… maybe we can give it another shot.
“And in the meantime, we’ll talk. We’ll FaceTime and… figure out what the hell to say to our lawyers.”
That makes you grimace. You were supposed to have another meeting with your divorce lawyers. Tomorrow is going to be awkward. But awkward beats saying goodbye to the man you’ve always loved, right? It’s a small price to pay.
“What do you say, baby?” He looks at you with all the hope that he has. “Just give me a minute to get everything sorted and then I’ll come home.”
You smile tearfully. “A minute is not enough… how about a month, hm?”
“Yeah, that makes more sense, actually.” He chuckles sheepishly. “A month. I can do that.”
“Good.” You sidle up to him and kiss him where his heart is. You’re willing to settle for having him just for the night, but you can’t wait until he comes home to you for good.
You hope he will.
984 notes · View notes
highvern · 7 months
Text
adamas et aurum
Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader
Genre: fluff
Warnings: gross domestic fluff, boyfriend mingyu
Length: ~1.7k
Note: more Drunk Goggles couple bc im beating a dead horse. idk why i do this to myself :) crying :) in :) the :) club :)
read more here
“You owe me a kiss.”
“Oh, do I?”
Mingyu huffs, face covered in sweat, backwards hat matting his hair to his skull, bare chest rose-colored from the fiery sun and swampy humidity. You’ve both spent all morning moving boxes to and fro so he’s about two seconds away from laying down on the floor for a much needed nap. When it came to heavier stuff, Mingyu insisted you stay and start unpacking the necessities so the apartment would at least be somewhat functional around all the mess. He didn’t have the heart to tell you that his shredded patience couldn’t handle any more of your help. Thank god some of the guys are coming over tomorrow to help him with the furniture.
Because of his chivalry, you’ve stayed cool in the AC, humming to the music blasting from a speaker in the kitchen as you work to make the new space a home. All the while Mingyu slaves away to lug in stuff he doesn’t remember either of you owning. 
“Boyfriend tax.”
“Ahhhh,” you nod. 
Jumping up on your toes, you deliver a cartoonishly wet smack on his lips as a thank you for his hard word.
“How’s it going?”
“Bathroom is mostly unpacked but we need to get some bins to organize under the sink. Oh! And the beds made too!” You chirp, turning back to your task of wiping out the cabinets and drawers of your new kitchen. “If you wanna wash up and lay down, I’ll order something to eat.”
“You’re the best.” he sighs, stepping into the space behind you, chest against your back, face tucked into the curve of your shoulder, hands grasping the edge of the counter on each side of your hips. 
“My man works hard, gotta take care of him.” You praise, twisting your neck to drop a kiss to his temple causing you to get a whiff of his sweat.
“Now go shower, you stink.” 
“Hey!” Mingyu objects, face moving over your shoulder so he can look at you. “I’m sorry I’ve been roleplaying as your hot shirtless mover for the last two hours. Bust my butt and this is how you thank me?”
Turning to face him, you tangle your arms around his neck, linking your hands behind his head and pulling him into a bear hug. His palms slide around the sensitive skin of your back, pulling you closer as your shirt sticks to his sweaty chest uncomfortably where you press together. But that doesn’t matter right now. Right now, you’re together, in the new apartment you share, starting the next chapter of your lives.
“Thank you, Mingyu. I love you.” You whisper into his collarbone.
“Damn right.” He mumbles, tilting his head down to drop a sweet peck to your mouth, arms giving a tight squeeze before swatting at your ass as he turns towards the bedroom.
“Hey!”
“Boyfriend tax!” He calls over his shoulder, amusement bubbling in his voice.
Your eyes trail after him, heart swelling as it begins to fully register what you’ve done. He’s here and his name is on the lease next to yours; your matching keys hanging by the door, assigned parking spots downstairs next to each other. Mingyu just went into your shared bedroom, to take a shower in your shared bathroom, and tonight you’ll curl up beside him in your shared bed.
Wonwoo moving in with his girlfriend has been the catalyst for the much needed conversation. Mingyu had essentially been living out of your apartment for months already, only returning to his own place every few days for fresh clothes or to see his friend. When his roommate told him he was planning to move out after their lease ended in four months you simply scoffed at his distress about where to live. 
“You basically live with me anyway.” You mumbled, not thinking about what the statement implied.
“I—,” he gapes. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”
“I just mean, you already stay here so much anyway.” You grumble, suddenly feeling awkward in his hold.
“Can you just ask me nicely?” He whines. “I wanna be romanced.”
Humoring him, you slide to the floor in front of the couch you two had been draped across. Dropping to one knee, you cup your hands together in a makeshift box like you’re proposing. Your eyes round and brows raise, attempting and failing to give him an earnest expression.
“Kim Mingyu, love of my life, future father of my children, bane of my existence. Will you do me the honor of moving in with me?”
“Bain of your existence?”
“Focus.” You snap your fingers. “Will you move in with me?”
“Duh,” he beams, tackling you to the ground and snaring you in a bear hug as you squeal in delight.
Your friends had warned you about signing a lease together; that no matter how many nights Mingyu stays at your apartment (twenty three in a row is his record), when you call the same place home things will be different. And all of his bad habits won’t change just because he’s living with his girlfriend. If anything they may get worse because it's his home now too and he’s no longer a long staying guest.
You already knew that Mingyu tends to leave the seat up after using the bathroom, and will collapse with laughter if you fall in; that he insists on burying his cold feet under your butt when sitting on the couch, occasionally wiggling his toes just to piss you off; and how he will put the carton of milk back in the fridge even if there's only a drop left no matter how many threats against his person you make.
But Mingyu also sets his alarm ten minutes earlier than needed so he can hold you in bed before starting the day, basking in each others drowsy warmth before braving the world outside the sheets; he frequently insists you sit between his legs on the floor and let him dry your hair after you shower, gently combing his fingers through it, sometimes twisting the locks into messy braids or buns with his clumsy hands; how he’ll surprise you with a candle light dinner, insisting you both dress up even though your sitting at the kitchen table on a Tuesday eating reheated leftovers, just because he can.
No matter how annoying his bad habits are, the good ones are worth their weight and more in gold.
A shockingly girlish shriek shatters your daydream.
Hightailing it to the bathroom, you spot your stark naked boyfriend through the plastic of the shower liner, quivering in the corner of the stall like a leaf blowing in the wind. 
“What’s wrong?”
“Its fucking hot!” He cries, over his shoulder, trying to shield his body from the spray by curling into the tiled wall.
Heaving a sigh of relief and annoyance, you can’t help rolling your eyes as you step towards the front of the tub and twist the faucet, adjusting to a cooler temperature for him so he doesn’t have to stick his arm through the scalding rain.
“Big baby,” you grumble before heading back to the kitchen.
“I heard that!”
“You were supposed to!”
-
Mingyu shuffles into the bedroom, towel draped low on his waist, beads of water falling from his hair to his collarbone as he looks for the duffle bag he packed with clothes for the next few days; but the scene before him stops him in his tracks. The sun from the window casts the room in a buttery yellow, beams of light dappling your figure sprawled on the bed, mouth open slightly and hair a mess around your face. He leans a shoulder against the door frame, tired eyes full of love and mouth lifted in a gentle smile as his soulmate snores quietly a few feet away.
When you asked if he wanted to move in together, Mingyu lacked the self control needed to stop from jumping up and screeching like a kid in a candy store. The thought of living with his favorite person in the world had his heart tremble and his palms sweat. Despite all the oddities and quirks he learned about you in the past two years of dating, almost everyone warned him that you can’t really know someone till you live with them. He thinks the months before today had prepared him for the inevitable annoyances you two would face.
He’s accepted that you leave hair on the walls of the shower that eventually clog the drain, pooling water around his feet when he hops in the stall before work; how you push around takeout boxes and spoiled produce in the fridge for days instead of throwing them out; and that piles of unfolded laundry will sit on the edge of the couch for days on end until one day the planets align and you decide to re-organize your entire closet after folding the wrinkle garments.
Mingyu accepts all of those things because he also knows you like to surprise him by grabbing all the ingredients for a recipe he mentions wanting to try in passing, happily volunteering to be his sous chef and taste tester, insisting you both don the couple aprons his mom got you for Christmas; that when he isn’t feeling well you’ll scratch his back until he falls asleep with his cheek squished on your stomach while you fret over him; how you always wait up for him when he gets ready for bed, glazed eyes opening every few minutes to blink lazily, soft breath tickling the skin between his shoulder blades where your head lays only interrupted by an occasional sleepy kiss on his spine while he brushes his teeth.
His friends mentioned all the ways moving in together will change the way you see each other. But in the two years you’ve been dating, each time your relationship changed it's been for the better. When you two started hanging out on your own and he found his opinion on you shifting completely. When you admitted you liked each other and he learned you were a lot braver than he was. When you two fought for the first time and he realized that as brave as you were, you weren’t invincible. When he said he loved you for the first time by accident and discovered you were just as in this as he was. All the fights that challenged you to understand each other better, the struggles that strained your ability to take care of one another; all of it had changed your relationship but pressure makes a diamond.
A lot like the one he plans to give you when he asks if you want to change your relationship again one day.
573 notes · View notes
eyelessfaces · 21 days
Text
uncalled for
summary: you get quite upset when poe "saves" your assigned mission by giving orders to your teams without consulting you; poe is determined to fix his mistake.
warnings: (public) arguing, talks of the future; family and having kids
tags: gn!reader, angst, being parents to bb8, fluff, this ends up being real sweet tbh
word count: 1.7k
masterlist | taglist | ao3
updates blog: @eyelessupdates
(uh yeah I'm back if you even noticed I was gone lol. I might just post this and disappear again for a little longer idk but anyways I'll explain the reason whenever I'm back for good; I'm okay don't worry, and I'm still gonna post fics don't worry it's nothing too serious fr)
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It causes a disruption when you both barge into the hangar; despite the constant clattering and whirring of tools and material there, both your bitter shoutings have been overlapping the sounds ever since Poe started following you closely, right from the moment you hastily jumped out of your x wing to try to forget about the awful management of your mission that would probably cost you to never get to lead one again. 
“It was my call, not yours” you affirm bitterly, voice dripping with resentment, your steps heavy and hurried as you try to shake Poe off but he is anything if not persevering, so it only manages to piss you off even more and fuel your frustration. “I didn’t need you to save my mission or whatever,” you exclaim, causing heads to turn as you walk across the large room, barely minding what is going on around you. 
“I did because I knew it would work!” Poe tries to explain, still heeling you closely. “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure it would be successful” he declares louder than he needs to, thrown off when you suddenly stop in your steps, turning to him.
“So you think you can make decisions for me? You think I can’t do it, can’t command a mission correctly?” you rhetorically ask, revolted, sighing a profanity under your breath before you storm off again, your steps resonating with frustration. Poe sighs and winces before he follows you again, taking a hold of your arm.
“Babe come on you know that’s not–”
You stop again, your patience running short. “You had no right to encroach on my orders, I knew what I had to do, and you stepping in with your own instructions could have blown the whole mission up!” you call out, pressing a finger to his chest. 
It’s when you finally take a moment to take a look at his face that you realize it, what is going on; you are being the center of attention, the little show everyone stopped their current task to sit and watch, your every word carefully awaited by your unwanted audience. 
You sigh softly, taking a moment to step back from the situation. “Now leave me alone before we embarrass ourselves further or before I tell you things I don’t really mean just because I’m angry and don’t wanna talk to you” you hiss softly before leaving Poe in the middle of the busy room where he watches you walk away, helplessly standing there. 
When he looks around him, most people turn away and avert their gazes to pretend they haven’t witnessed anything, and Poe is well too aware of the tension still lingering in the air even as you exit the room.
When Jessika climbs down from her ladder after watching the scene from her cockpit, BB-8 rolls over to her and chirps sadly, having observed yours and Poe’s argument from afar just like most of the hangar after his master went running after you. She kneels down to the droid’s level, giving him a sympathetic smile.
“That’s gonna be fine Beebs, they always end up figuring it out somehow” she affirms as the droid’s upper part sinks in distress accompanied by saddened beeps. Jessika can’t help but smile fondly at him and his obvious concern, at the fact that he quite literally acts like you are his parents.
A few hours have passed when Poe joins you again; you don't notice him at first, having made sure to get focused enough on your paperwork to forget about the whole situation and try to ease the frustration within you. It's only when you put your datapad down that you see him leaning against the door frame.
“You're so pretty when you're focused” he smiles gently when your eyes meet his figure, causing you to roll your eyes and reluctantly smile at his words despite your lingering frustration. 
“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh softly as you try to hide your slight smirk, gaze darting back down to enter numbers into your datapad.
He acknowledges your feelings with a nod, his lips pressed together in a tight line. “I know.” he admits, stepping into the room. “That’s why I’m here” You look back up at him, taking a deep breath as you set your datapad aside; despite the fact that everything he did since you wrapped your mission up got on your nerves, deep down you only wish for this to situation to get figured out and eventually be behind the both of you. You join him in front of your desk, leaning against it.
“I knew what I was doing. I was handling it” you affirm before he even gets the chance to do so much as open his mouth.
He holds a hand up to slow you down. “I know,” he nods understandingly. “I shouldn’t have redirected the plan, I should have trusted you. I was just afraid things would go wrong considering how it was all starting to go down so quickly” he explains. “I know I could have fucked it all up, everything you put in place so the mission could go right” you slightly tilt your head to the side in agreement. 
“And I know my move was probably a lot more dangerous than the plan you had in mind to make everything right but you know I would never put you or our teams in danger, only myself” he declares with a concerned nod, causing your expression to soften. “You, never. I would never risk it, no matter what” there’s a soft frown over his face as his eyes flicker with sincerity, his confession making your heart ache as it hangs in the air before he talks again. “And I never doubted your ability to command a mission.” 
You nod with a heavy sigh, acknowledging his apology. “I should apologize too. I shouldn't have lashed out on you like that either.” you admit and nod sheepishly, reflecting on your impulsive behavior. “I really wanted this mission to go right”
“For what it’s worth,” he starts with a small smile, trying to dissimulate a bigger one. “I talked about it with Leia and she thinks you did pretty good” his declaration doesn’t fail to draw an appreciative smile from you, one that makes him mirror your action. “And she thinks we would work great together”
“And I agree,” you reply, finally feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as the tension between you begins to dissipate. “We do make a good team.”
Poe’s smile widens, relieved to see you loosen up a bit. “Yeah, we do” he agrees with a small huff, stepping closer to you. “I just hate seeing you so worked up.”
You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “I hate getting worked up,” you scoff. 
“I’ll try to think about it twice next time,” Poe promises, reaching out to gently take your hand in his. “I don’t want to step on your toes or make you feel like I don’t trust you or your judgment.”
Your fingers intertwine with his, the warmth of his touch calming you further. “Well I’ll try not to snap at you,” you promise in return, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze as you let your head rest against his chest with a small, barely audible sigh. “Especially not in front of everyone,” you mutter, earning an amused chuckle from him. You melt into his touch as he leans to press a gentle kiss over your forehead, his hand that is not holding yours coming to wrap around you.
It is only after you pull away from his embrace and leave a chaste kiss to his lips that the corner of your eye notices a sort of spy in the corner of the door frame.
“What’s he doing here” 
Poe frowns before he turns around, huffing out a laugh when he notices BB-8 peeking out the door. “How long have you been here?” he jokingly scolds his droid that fully reveals himself now that he has been caught. “You know he doesn’t like when we fight” he softly sighs turning back to you, a mix of amusement and concern in his eyes before he looks at BB rolling over the both of you.
You shake your head, unable to suppress your smile at BB-8’s presence. “Very sweet of him to be looking out for us,” you start, reaching out to pat the droid’s dome affectionately. “But maybe he should learn not to eavesdrop.”
BB-8 chirps playfully, obviously pleased with the attention, seemingly eager to be a part of the reconciliation.
Poe chuckles, kneeling down to scratch behind BB-8’s sensor with a fond smile. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll work on that,” he says before glancing back at you with a soft smile. “He's our kid, he’s been worried sick about us, weren't you?” he turns to BB, who's beeping frantically in agreement.
You glance at him, then back at Poe, a softness settling in your chest at the sight of them together, your little family. “Our first kid, yeah” you smile softly, heart fluttering inside your chest.
“First? Meaning there's gonna be more?” Poe asks with a playful smile, getting back on his feet. He raises his eyebrows as he awaits your response, and you both laugh at the sudden change of atmosphere as Poe wraps a hand around you before pressing a kiss to your temple.
You huff out a laugh at his quick jump to conclusion, “I don't know, you're a pretty good dad to this one,” you shrug.
“A couple hours ago I was dead to you and now we're talking having kids” he laughs into your hair, a teasing tone in his voice. 
“You weren’t even close to being dead to me, you’re so dramatic Poe” you declare with a small scoff, poking his chest lightly. “That’s the reason Beebs loves you so much” you tease, making him huff out a laugh. “I’d say we should focus on surviving one parenting experience first,” you chuckle looking down at BB-8, nudging Poe playfully. “But who knows what the future holds?”
Poe grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement as his arm grasps tighter around his hold on you. “As long as I have you by my side, I'm up for anything babe.”
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