#im anticipating 5k

[cdelphiki]

I'm working on the next chapter for J&3T and I'm at 3738 words in the final draft and I still have over 1100 words in the draft, which by the way is just the dialogue with some very minor "and then he did this" notes. So 🙃 This is a long chapter. There's not a spot to split it, either. I wonder if I'll break 6k with it.

[real-life-cloud]

:((

[notiddygxthgf]

2/2

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: Yuuji Itadori truly was the best friend a girl like you could ask for, but he wasn't the only reason you came to visit. (His older brother, the devilishly handsome Choso Kamo, had always been the apple of your eye).

★ c.w.: slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual smut, childhood sweethearts, kinda, mutual pining, choso with a tongue piercing, rough sex, cunnilingus, backshots, unprotected sex, regular people au, two year age gap, PWP.

★ a/n: part two! its all smut lol. anyway, like I said, this one shot is finished (just split btw two chaps bc theres 11k words). but if u comment and persuade me who knows! I can always do another. im a whore for ur validation.

★ w.c.; 5k

best friend's brother ; chapter index

YUUJI COOCHIE <3

|  come over tn?

|  i got smth i wanna run by u first

YOU

|  omw.

You stood on Itadori’s porch, finger poised over the doorbell a month after your eighteenth birthday. You had been anticipating to see your best friend, Itadori. But as the door swings open, what you don’t expect is to come face to face with Itadori’s older brother.

Your heart drops, and your breath catches in your throat as you take in his appearance. It felt for a moment as if time had stood still since you last saw him. He had only grown more handsome during your time apart. His dark hair was done back into two messy buns, deep bags residing beneath his deep eyes. 

Choso looked absolutely breathtaking . His fitted black tee clung to his chest and arms, showing off his toned physique, while the baggy black sweats he was sporting gave him an effortlessly cool appearance.

His presence exudes a magnetic charm that takes you back to when you were 17. His half smirk sends a wonton shiver down your spine.

“Hey there,” He says, deep, rich voice sending ripples of familiarity throughout your body.

When his lips pull away from his teeth, forming syllables and words, you couldn’t help but notice a small glint of metal near the tip of his tongue. You realized immediately what had seemed so different about him, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“You pierced your tongue?” You blurt out, unable to hide your shock.

Choso nearly snorts, though his eyes never leave yours. “You’re not surprised to see me?” He teases.

“I am,” You retort quickly, trying to regain your composure. “You’re home for the holidays?”

He nods, gaze still fixed on your red face. “Just came home last night.”

That would explain why I didn’t see you, you thought.

“I’m glad you came, though, I’ve been holding onto your birthday gift for a while now,” He sighed, stepping aside to let you into the house but keeping his arm braced on the doorframe. 

You slide under his muscular arm, doing your best to ignore the way your body bristled with electricity when you brushed up against him.

You set your bag on the ground near the door, kicking off your shoes and neatly pushing them aside while Choso locked the door behind you. 

“It’s in my room,” he said, passing you.

You followed him nervously up the stairs into his bedroom, heart pounding a little louder with every step. This would be the first time you would find yourself alone in Choso’s room, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

As you enter his bedroom, you drank in your surroundings – a rare sight. The room was a reflection of Choso’s personality; band tees all over the walls, sheets laid flat and clean, laundry sitting in a basket in a neat, folded pile – a subtle hint of organized chaos.

It felt both familiar and new at the same time. The air was thick with anticipation, and memories of your whirlwind summer fling with Choso came flooding back.

You brace your hands on the door. “Is Itadori home?” You ask him, hands tracing the doorframe while Choso rummaged through his drawer. You sat on his bed.

“Nah,” he replied casually.

Furrowing your brows, you tried to make sense of the situation. But told me to come over…

“Is he coming?” You tried again, voice tinged with uncertainty.

Choso rose up from the bedside drawer, extending a small box towards you with a slight grin. “Nope,” he said.

The realization hit you like a freight train. This was a fucking setup, and Itadori was the mastermind behind it all.

He wanted you alone with his brother. He knew about your fling with him. 

He didn’t notice when the two of you had disappeared to the pantry for ten minutes. 

Though the moment you returned to see him glancing at you with a curious brow raised, you knew he had finally caught on. Even if he didn’t say anything about it.

He knew.

He had set you up.

Your face was on fire. Still, you took the small box from Choso, an awkward smile on your face, and carefully undid the little bow. As you opened it, you revealed its contents – a tee shirt with Choso’s University crest on it, a glace pendant on a fabric necklace, and a box set of your favorite film saga.

Choso had never given you a gift for your birthday before, at least not anything beyond a card. Briefly, you wondered if it was his way of making up for your 18th birthday party, the one he had missed.

“Choso…” You began, a humorous grin on your lips. “Merch?”

He shrugged playfully, his gaze locked onto yours. “In case you miss me,” he replied, tone teasing yet sincere.

With a genuine smile, you leaned over and hugged him. “I love it,” you had told him.

Choso reached into the box for the necklace, gesturing for you to come closer. You leaned in, allowing him to loop the fabric over your head. His fingers brushed against your skin, your neck as he adjusted it.

He froze. You froze.

For a while, the room was quiet. There was an intense stare-off between you two. Choso cleared his throat, seemingly about to break the moment, but you had other plans. Gently, you gripped his chin between your index finger and your thumb, turning his head back to you. 

Gently, you tugged his lower lip down. He stuck his tongue out to wet the corner of his lips in return.

Your breath hitched as your gazes locked, and the air in the room shifted. Choso’s dark eyes shifted beneath your gaze, and you found yourself drawn closer to him.

You swallowed. “How bad did it hurt?” You asked, eyes fixed on the sliver of metal you had caught a glimpse of inside of his mouth.

Choso raised a finger towards his mouth, bringing your attention back to his tongue. “This?” He asked. “Hurt like a bitch, not gonna lie, but it healed up real nice.”

Wordlessly, he stuck his tongue out so you could see it up close. You examined it carefully – it really had healed up rather nicely. There was a small, silver ball wedged into the pink muscle. You wondered how it would feel on your lips, your neck, your body .

Choso closed his mouth. “I got it the first weekend after move-in day,” He explained.

“Why?” You inquired, curiosity finally getting the better of you.

He shrugged with a smirk, “Thought it would look hot. What do you think?”

“I think it looks like a pain in the ass,” You retorted. “Don’t any of the girls you kiss complain about that thing?”

“Quite the contrary,” he remarked, licking his lips. “Why’d you ask?”

You tried to ignore the jealousy that bubbled up inside of you, deep inside of you at the thought of him kissing other girls. You had to remind yourself who you were talking to here. You would have been naive to expect loyalty from a college freshman.

“Looks cold,” you commented instead. “I don’t imagine that would feel very good.”

And his eyes, those dark, beautiful cesspools of emotion, dropped down to your lips, lingering for a moment too long before returning to meet your gaze. “You wanna find out?” He asked.

“Piss off,” You scoffed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. But the blush on your cheeks betrayed the effect his words had on you. “Fuckin’ tease.”

He didn’t move back. No, instead, he leaned in a little closer. “You sure?” He whispered, warm breath grazing the shell of your ear. “I can show you how good it feels, if you want.”

And that’s how you wound up here, with his face buried between your legs. He kissed his way up and down the skin of your thighs. You made quick work of his twin buns, tugging the ties out of his hair.

His lips curled into a knowing smirk. He lifted one of your legs onto his broad shoulder, running his tongue along the length of your inner thigh, pressing a kiss right where your ass met your legs. The metal ball on his tongue felt odd against your skin, but not necessarily unpleasurable.

You had never gone this far with him before. You were turned on beyond comprehension, hungry eyes drinking in the rosey hue that dusted his pale complexion while he sucked on your skin – hard enough for it to hurt, hard enough to leave a mark. 

Tenderly, Choso reached for your panties. He appeared to be on the precipice of a decision. 

“Can I…” He panted, trailing his thumb over the thin piece of fabric that separated the two of you. “Can I take these off?”

You nodded quickly, lifting your hips up for him while he guided the panties off of your legs. 

He licked his lips and parted your legs a second time, fully exposing you to his ravenous gaze. 

“You look like heaven,” He breathed out, voice trembling. He took a moment to admire you, smiling at the way you tried to hide your face. “Wanna taste…”

You had never done this before. The one man you had ever dared to hook up with hadn’t bothered. So you swallowed the lump in your throat, watching him get down on all fours and dip his head down between your legs like a man with his head bowed in worship. 

Though you were far from holy, in that moment, you felt like you were God.

His tongue was hot and wet against your skin, licking a stripe from bottom to top. The metal ball of his tongue piercing caught on your puffy clit, eliciting a quiet gasp. 

“Feel good, baby?” He teased, relishing in the way your thighs tensed around his head. His eyes flitted between you and your pussy – spread open for him like a buffet – pupils blown wide with desire. His pink lips parted around his tongue a second time, and this time you watched him.

Watched him press the metal ball against your clit, rolling over it in slow, steady circles.

You felt like you could die here. 

He adjusted his grip on your hips, pulling you down on the bed until you felt his nose pressing in between your folds. He kissed your heat, moaning into you.  Then, without so much as a warning, he began to eat you out like a starved man.

“Fuck, Cho–” You cried out for him, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his inky black tresses. You had never felt so good in your life, like he had been waiting for this as long as you had. You were sensitive, far too sensitive to comprehend the way your body felt, the way his tongue piercing felt as it glided over your hot flesh.

He didn’t slow down. He licked, slurped, and kissed your swollen clit, keeping that unforgiving pace up until your hips began to jump against his tongue.

“Shit,” You hissed,

He moaned into you in response, meeting your gaze with an intense fire burning behind his eyes. His tongue massaged you up to what you know would be the hardest orgasm of your life – that damn piece of metal made for one hell of a stimulant. It felt like it was pressing right up into your pressure points, deeper than his tongue was able to reach.

You felt yourself come apart at the seams, reduced to a moaning mess in a matter of minutes, riding his tongue like your life depended on it. He stopped moving for a moment, letting you grip him by the hair and ride his face. 

You couldn’t look away.

He looked amazing, fire burning behind his eyes, fingertips biting into the skin of your thighs, brows furrowed with concentration. His eyes never left yours, not even once.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, sitting back and allowing him to resume what he had been doing earlier – that thing with his tongue. 

And resume it he did, assuming a more demanding pace this time. It almost made you want to cry – the pace, the ball on his tongue – it was almost too much to bear. It felt so good.

You felt that familiar coil in your abdomen, almost like you were about to cum, then in a moment’s width he had pulled away. 

You struggled to regain your surroundings, vision cloudy and hazy with pleasure. You could hear your rampant heartbeat racing in your own ears. 

Choso leaned back with a stretch, cracking his neck and licking his lips. The entirebottom half of his face was drenched, dripping with an obscene mixture of your slick and his spit. 

He looked gorgeous, even when his face was tinted red. 

“Choso…” You breathed, letting a breathless chuckle slip between your parted lips.

He grinned back at you. “Any complaints?”

You didn’t glorify him with a response, gripping him by the fabric of his shirt and tugging him up and over you. You searched for his lips, locking them between yours in a messy, heated kiss. The taste of you lingered on his tongue, tangy and a little sweet.

“Shut up and fuck me, Kamo,” You panted with a grin of your own.

That was all he needed to push you onto your back, diving back in to ravage your lips again. It was all a rushed, passionate haze – he tugged your tee shirt over your head, you shoved your skirt down to your ankles and kicked it off the side of the bed. He leaned back with a stretch to reach for the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head and flinging it to the side. 

Your mouth nearly watered for him. He was everything you had dreamed of and so much more. Well defined arms, pecs, abs – a few tattoos littered the broad expanse of his chest. His torso tapered down into a thin, slutty waist. You let your hand slide down his abdomen, eliciting a quiet groan from him as your painted fingernails caught on his toned abs, ghosted over the large tent in his sweats that left nothing to the imagination. 

He was big. Bigger than you had anticipated. The last man you were with was about 3 inches (which was probably for the better, because it had been your first time). He felt about three times as big as that. Maybe more.

It didn’t take long for him to flip you onto your stomach, pulling your ass flush against his navel. He reached for a handful of your hair, jerking your head to the side, then uttered against your ear, “G’nna fuck that attitude right out’ta you.”

He left you for a moment while he undid the strings of his sweatpants. You couldn’t watch. You knew if you saw it, you would have doubts. 

But you found yourself looking back anyway, right as he had told you. “Wanna reach into that drawer and grab me a condom?”

“Are you um…” You swallowed. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”

You knew you were clean because you were so disgusted by the man you had hooked up with before Choso that you’d taken yourself to the planned parenthood in town the day after to be tested. Even if you had used a condom.

Choso’s brow quirked up at that. “No, I don’t have any STDs. I get tested twice a year.”

Oh. Okay.

Again, you didn’t want to think about how many women had taken his dick before you. 

“Never gone raw before, though,” He mused quietly, hand rubbing mindless circles over the skin of your ass. 

“Really?” You asked.

“Is that a surprise?” He retorted, though he didn’t seem very hurt by your comment. “Can’t babytrap me.”

You thought about definitely didn’t think about Choso being a father. 

“Is there any way for you to, like…” You hummed, trailing off. Your inexperience had never been more disgustingly apparent. “Pull out?”

“You’re talking like this is your first time,” he laughed breathily.

You paused. His eyes widened.

“Is… this your first time?” He asked again.

“I had sex with this one guy from my class a while ago,” You said after an awkward silence. “He was small and, like, really bad at it.”

Choso seemed humored by your honest admission, though it came at the expense of your own embarrassment. “Why’d you go through with it, then?”

“I only did it to get back at you,” You turned your head back to the pillowcase below you. With a pout, you admitted, “Thought for some reason that by me having sex, I was proving something. I was younger and stupider, okay?”

“So… you’ve only had sex once?” He asked. You didn’t realize this was an interrogation. 

You nodded embarrasedly. Somehow this was more humiliating than being spread open for him like you were right now.

“You sure you want this?” He hummed, roaching forward to tuck your hair behind your ear. It was strangely intimate. When you nodded, he sighed. “We’ll go slow, then. I don’t wanna hurt you–”

“Don’t treat me like I’m fragile,” You cut him off, finally turning back to look at him. “I can take it, okay? Just answer the damn question.”

Choso leaned down over you, pinning you into the bed, kissing down your spine. “We can… do backshots,” he murmured against your skin. “Want that?”

“Mhm,” You sighed, easing into his touch.

You had waited far too long for this for something like a condom to get in between the two of you. You wanted to feel him. All of him. 

Choso rolled back, slipping his tip between your fold and swiping it through your slick. You watched him, watched the way he bit his lip at the sensation, eyes glued onto the place where you met him . 

He pursed his lips, letting spit fall from his lips. You watched it dribble down, landing right onto your twitching hole. 

That was so fucking hot .

Then, without a word of warning, he pushed the tip in. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, feeling the burn, the stretch of his girth inside of you. He paused for a moment when the tip was the only thing inside of you, brows drawn together, breaths shallow.

It took everything you had not to cry out in pain. You had been waiting your whole life for this.

But, shit, it hurt. He was big. You felt your body struggle to accommodate him.

Maybe some prep should have been in order…

Oh well, gotta see it through.

As if sensing your internal dilemma, Choso reached down, intertwining his fingers with yours. He placed a soft kiss to the back of your neck. 

“You okay?” He asked you.

No . Yes.

“Yeah,” You bit out. “Just… I ‘jus need a minute.”

“Just tell me when,” he pressed another kiss to your hot skin. “You’re doing so good.”

It took you a few more minutes to adjust to him. Every minute, he would slip in a little further, just enough to make your skin hot and flushed. You could feel him throbbing inside of you, throbbing against your spongy walls.

Eventually, you gave him the green light. And, fuck, it was like something inside of him had snapped. He slid the rest of the way in until his hips were flush with your ass. He drew out, slowly, then thrust back in again.

It felt like he was pulling you apart over and over again, snapping his hips against yours in a progressively harder fashion. 

Choso whimpered quitedly, pausing his harsh movements to change pace. You clenched around him in response, something that made him double over. “Ah, fuck,” He gasped. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

He drew back, thrusting into you once more. You felt your whole body jolt forward with a loud moan of your own.

With wild, passionate eyes, Choso pulled out again, leaving just enough room for the tip. Then, he slammed back into you. Again, again, again – he was relishing in the way you cried into the pillow.

“Fuck, fuck,” You chanted, like some sort of sinful prayer. “ Fuck me, Cho– ”

“Might not last long if you keep callin’ my name like that,” He gasped, tangling a large hand into your messy tresses and gripping it tightly. 

You drew your brows together, allowing yourself to be lost in the pleasure, the attention he was giving you. What would Itadori think, you wondered, if he walked in on you like this – face down ass up in his big brother’s bed?

“Choso ,” You groaned into the pillow. It felt like he was scratching an itch deep inside of you – not your coochie, but your soul. It felt like you were made for this. “ Choso, Fuck. ”

Itadori slipped into his house with a quiet sigh. He kicked his shoes off, set his bag down on the floor, and then reached for his scarf. It had been one long, hellish day. He felt bad making you wait for him, but he didn’t doubt that you would have made yourself right at home in his bedroom by now. You were probably sprawled out over his bed, passed out or playing with his PS5.

He froze when he heard something come from upstairs. It sounded like furniture being moved around, or something like that. There were voices, too.

With knitted brows, he walked hesitantly towards the stairs. Was it coming from up there?

“Fuck, Choso,” He heard a vaguely familiar – albeit very muffled voice – moan. 

It was you. You and another muffled voice.

“Choso, Choso!” 

“Right there?”

“Fuck– yes! Don’t stop!”

He quirked a brow. Then, with a sigh and a dejected shake of his head, he hid away in the kitchen.

“Please!” You gasped, you fumbled around behind you in search of his hand. He grabbed it, pinning your arm behind your back and thrusting into your sore pussy from a new angle – one that made you feel dizzy. You didn’t know how long the two of you had been going at it. All you knew was that you never wanted it to end, that your mind was a blissful haze.

Your body slid up against the bedsheets – up and down, up and down, clenched fingers leaving wrinkles in their wake. 

“Fuck me harder,” You pled.

And fuck you harder he sure did. His chest rolled against your backside, pinning you into the mattress and holding you right where he wanted you. Then he fucked you a little harder.

You were all but screaming his name at that point. “Choso–” 

The head of his cock was bullying into you, beating against that spot deep within you that made your feet fly up, rubbing the back of his thighs as if to tell him ‘ keep going’.You gripped the sheets with unwarranted strength, feeling yourself drip and clench around him – hearing the obscene squelch you made when the two of you met in the middle. 

“ Fu-u-uck ,” You cried, voice high and weak.

“Quit suckin’ me in like that,” He chuckled, though it was cut short by a deep, guttural groan as you did it again. “ Shit , you want kids or somethin’?”

There was a knot in your stomach. A vaguely familiar warmth that seemed to only grow hotter by the second.

“ So perfect, so wet ,” Choso commended you, licking the shell of your ear, peppering butterfly kisses to the back of your neck. Your name fell out of his pretty lips between a cacophony of sinful noises.

You felt yourself get lost in him, craning your head around to take another look at him. His angelic face, scrunched up with pleasure, mouth hanging open just slightly, pale face dusted with pink. Inky black hair plastered to his forehead and neck with sweat. The muscles in his chest and torso rippled.

“I’ve wanted you…” You gasped, trying your best to articulate despite the stimulation he was giving you – it was almost too much. “Since I was young – fuck .”

His hips stuttered. He pulled your hair away from your neck, kissing the junction where your jaw met your neck. 

He gripped your hair to crane your head back, slowing his thrusts to long, deep strokes that had you trembling. 

“The feeling was mutual,” Choso grunted, trying to keep himself together.

You felt your eyes roll almost all the way back into your fucking head, mouth hanging open, drooling shamelessly on his pillow, his sheets.

You were close. So close.

Those deep, lust-filled eyes of him weren’t doing anything to slow the train that was coming. Each thrust, each slide of his cockhead against your g-spot brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“You feel even better than I imagined,” He growled, and you nearly came right then and there. 

He moved his hands so that your hips were up in the air for him, bringing his other arm around your neck to pin you there. When he picked up pace this time, you felt yourself drip – like, actually drip – all over him.

I wanna have his kids .

Your moans and pleas matched the pace of his sloppy thrusts. He was getting close, too. You could hear it. No, seriously, noises like that should have been criminal.

The feeling of being filled by him was driving you up the wall – almost as hard as he was currently driving you into the mattress. You never wanted it to end. 

But, shit, it was about to.

“Choso,” You whimpered. He didn’t slow down. “Think ‘m g’nna cum.”

“Yeah?” he gritted out, breath fanning over your neck and your cheek. He reached a hand down, releasing your neck to rub slow circles on your puffy clit – a speed that felt foreign compared to the harsh strokes he was giving you, but not entirely unwelcome.

That was all it took to have you hurling towards the edge, ass jumping up and down to meet his thrust in the middle, to take as much of him in as you possibly could.

“Yeah, shit,” He gasped. He was trying to hold on for you, but you were making it realhard. “G’nna cum for me, baby? Lemme fuckin’ hear it.”

You were all but throwing it back on him, mindlessly chasing your release like a bitch in heat. The moment you got the green light, your orgasm snapped. You cried out his name one final time, arching your back all the way into the sheets, spasming wildly around him. The shock tore through you in waves.

Your hips jolted with hypersensitivity while he fucked you through it.

Choso’s hips stuttered. He twitched, like he couldn’t take another minute of this, then he remarked, “That was so fuckin’ hot, holy shit – fuck, wait–”

He slid out of you rapidly, leaving you to gasp at the sudden loss of him. The next thing you know, he was stroking himself to completion. He came with a broken whimper of your name, spurting ropes of warm cum all over your back.

You took a moment to catch your breath. He did the same. A few moments, actually.

The silence that followed was deafening. He groaned, running a shaky hand through his hair. You collapsed into the bed.

He had left the bedside at one point, though only for a moment before he returned with a warm wash rag. He cleaned his love paint off of your spine.

Then, tossing the rag into his hamper, he collapsed next to you.

You chuckled breathlessly, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him with all of the strength you had left in you (not much). “Shit…” 

“Shit,” he agreed, licking his lips. “You were great.”

“You were better,” You said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk home tonight, though.”

Choso shrugged. He reached down, pulling the covers over the two of you. “Sleep here, then.”

Sleep here.

You recalled many nights of him walking girls to the door. Choso never let girls stay the night.

He wants me to spend the night with hiim.

You laughed, reveling in the irony of it all. Years and years of pining led you here, to this. “What would Itadori think?”

Choso threw an arm over your waist, pulling you closer to his side. “Fuck what Itadori thinks.”

Your world went black a moment later.

Your eyes fluttered open as you lay in the aftermath of a steamy evening with the man of your dreams. Choso, your best friend’s brother. The one you had fucked.

His lips were pressed into the slightest pout. You watched him snore, taking note of how peaceful he looked while he slept, taking note of the way his tousled black hair fell into his pretty face.

With a contented sigh, you reached for a shirt that lay nearby – his shirt. The one he had taken off yesterday. You slipped out from beneath the covers, padding quietly out of Choso’s bedroom. Your feet were quiet against the wooden steps.

As you entered the living room space, you contemplated sneaking into the kitchen in search of some much-needed sustenance. It had to have been later in the afternoon at that point – you assumed that you and Choso had been sleeping for a few hours, at least. Your stomach grumbled in agreement.

Just as you were about to step into the familiar kitchen, however, you froze. There, sitting at the table, munching on a Kit Kat bar like it was no one’s business, was her best friend. 

Itadori.

“Hey…” You said rather awkwardly, heart racing. “You’re… you’re home.”

Itadori quirked a brow, looking you up and down curiously. His eyes noticeably lingered on your neck, right were you had a sneaking suspicion Choso had marked you with his lips and teeth. 

“Hey,” He finally said. “You two finally done up there?”

“You heard that. Of course you did,” You sighed, dropping your stiff arms and plopping into the stool next to him at the kitchen island. You faceplanted into the cold surface, groaning, “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know my brother’s good in bed,” Itadori took another bite. He placed a heart over his chest, feigning an exaggerated cry of, “ Choso– oh, Choso, don’t stop, I’m cu–”

“He told me you weren’t coming home,” You groaned, even louder this time. You were glad that Itadori couldn’t see the nasty shade of red that had painted your features.

“He lied,” Your best friend chuckled, crumpling the wrapper of his Kit Kat bar and tossing it in the trash bin. He stood off, dusting his hands on his pants, reaching for his phone. Then, like nothing had happened, he said,  “I’m ordering Chinese. You want?”

You raised your head at that, taking a slow glance at the room around the two of you. “I could go for some beef and broccoli…”

You loved the bond you had with Yuuji. Unbreakable, truly. Sometimes a little toocomfortable. This was, undoubtedly, one of those times.

Itadori dialed a few numbers into his phone. He paused, raising his brow again, “I think you’ve had enough meat tonight, don’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up,” You sighed, though you laughed a bit at his joke. 

Images of Choso flashed through your mind. The image of him spitting on the tip before slipping it in. The image of him tangling a fist in your hair, craning your head back to look at him while he pounded you into the mattress.

With a faint smirk of your own, you remarked. “You’re probably right. I should save room for all of the meat I’m gonna be eatin’ tonight after you go to bed.”

“Please shut up,” Itadori sighed, running the palms of his hands over his exasperated face. With a shake of his head, he held the phone up to his ear. “I really don’t want to think about my brother putting his dick in you. Not while dinner is also in the question.”

You shrugged. Your phone buzzed. Turning it over, you read the new message you had received.

CHOSO    just now

Whered u go beautiful

Your phone chimed a second time.

CHOSO    just now

Steamed dumplings n fried rice plz

You turned the screen over with a grin, telling Itadori. “Your brother wants steamed dumplings and fried rice.”

“I’d say fuck my brother, but tonight’s game night and I don’t want you taking that literally,” Itadori sighed. Still, he unmuted himself, telling the woman on the other side of the phone, “Another order of fried rice and dumplings, too, please.”

Yuuji Itadori really was the best friend a girl like you could ask for.

a/n: hi there my little steamed dumplins <33 lmk what u thought!!! I love reading ur comments and dms. again, this is a one shot, but I would totally drop another part if yall would like -- gotta show papa choso some love. comment and lmk what u think pookiesss

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 ,

wanna join the ' choso kamo ' taglist?| bfb; chapter index

[ittefaqan]

byler r so gold rush coded

[livingemkayde]

carousel 

neighbor!joel miller/dbf!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: Rated 18+, CONSIDER THIS YOUR COMMUNITY LABEL minors please dni, smut, age gap, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v, praise kink, light choking, dom!joel, dirty talk, pet names. can you tell i have a thing for car sex. Probably more but…yk. 

a/n: im so grateful you guys are giving me the opportunity to share my writing with a huge community. I cant thank you enough. This has been an outlet for me emotionally that i never anticipated. I love writing and i love love love reading your feedback. just for all the love you get double the smut. thank you again. please enjoy. 

if u wanna listen to a song while reading, Let The Light In by ldr was playing while i wrote this lol. apple music spotify

wc: 5k (jesus)

this is apart of my small dbf!joel mini series, read the previous parts here:

part i part ii part iii

if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist!

He pumps his cock with your slick on his hand, moving so it's trained at your aching entrance — his hand shoots out above your head and braces himself on the car door.  “Fuckin’ in the car like teenagers,” he grunts, running his tip along your clit.  “Please Joel,” you whine. You don’t know if you can take it any longer.  Joel squeezes the tip in, your walls accept him graciously, the desire to be filled overwhelming your senses.  He slides in slowly. You whine for him to go faster.  “Need you — please, just —”  “Shut up — fuck — not gonna last,” he groans into the crook of your neck. 

You try not to think about Joel — somewhere in the back of your mind you know it’s dangerous that he occupies so much of your brain at all times. 

But you really can’t help yourself. 

Especially when his stares linger a bit too long.

Or when your dad makes burgers and Joel’s thigh grazes against yours under the table. 

And definitely not when his hands find your waist when everyone is shuffling around the kitchen, putting dishes away. 

And it might physically hurt to ignore him when Sarah convinces you to run into the ocean at midnight and he’s waiting with towels for you on the deck — his hands brushing your ass when he wraps the towel around your body. 

You thought you might have been doing an okay job at it, until you find yourself outside his bedroom door, contemplating knocking. You really didn’t want to seem desperate. But the tug in your lower stomach sends you forward, bracing your hand to knock. 

You look to your left, Sarah's room is at the end of the hall and your dad’s is around the corner. You tiptoed through the dark hallway to get some water and you couldn’t help but walk past his door — to your surprise the light was on — seeping out under the door into the hallway. 

You hear him moving. And the light turns off at your feet. You gasp and move back. But he opens the door, and catches you outside his room. 

He meets you with a curious face. You read the silent question etched into it. 

What are you doin’?

You shake your head, attempting to convey an overall I wasn’t doing anything vibe but he gives you a knowing look that makes you blush. 

He nods his head towards the stairs and moves past you. 

You follow his figure. He’s wearing pants that hug his hips and a t-shirt. He’s very simple. Yet he’s very Joel, and you can’t take your eyes off him.

He leads you into the kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge, you sit at the table. 

When he joins you, it’s almost like you’re both too scared to make any noise, you sit in silence, watching him as he tips the beer, sipping it, while keeping his eyes trained on you. 

You aren’t dressed for the occasion, and it's a bit cold, but you don’t think he minds. 

“I was just getting some water,” you manage to get out, your voice a bit hoarse. 

“Sure,” he replies, tipping his beer towards you, chuckling a bit.

“What? I was,” you say defensively. 

“Your room was the other way,” he notes, shrugging. 

You blush and try to hide your face.

“Whatever.”  

“S’alright, baby,” he says coolly — like his words don’t shoot down right to your core, “Just didn’t know you were so needy.” 

“Fuck you,” you mumble, a laugh crinkling your eyes, “You’d like that,” you bite. 

He laughs too. 

“Maybe I would,” he says. 

A few beats pass. There’s enough tension at the table you could cut it with a knife. 

“You wanna tell me?” 

“Not really,” you tease him with a smirk, “I was just surprised you were awake is all,” you say when he doesn’t respond, leaning back in your chair. 

He lets out a huff and downs the rest of his beer. 

“Could say the same ‘bout you.” 

“I’ve got some things on my mind,” you say sheepishly, teasing. 

“Yeah?” 

You nod. 

“What things?” 

You stand, stalking towards him, he parts his legs to let you slot yourself in between his thighs. He looks up at you. 

“Don’t be an ass,” you mumble while looking at his lips, “You know what things.”

“I don’t play guessin’ games.”

“I’m not playing any games,” you quip back. 

Something in your tone switches the conversation.  

It sort of stops Joel in his tracks. He looks up at you, and then his hand finds your hip, pushing against the bone. His fingers dip into your shirt, rubbing over the bruise he pushed into your skin from earlier — he bends to place a chaste kiss to the bruise. It makes your breath hitch. You think he might push you away, or tease you for being bratty with him. But he looks up at you with caramel brown eyes. 

“On your knees then,” he says, stone-cold. 

Your eyes widen, and you look around the kitchen in shock even though you know you’re alone with Joel. 

He looks up at you — maybe a little shocked that you comply so quickly without putting up a fight. But you were a goner the second you walked by his room and your body is dropping in between his legs before you know any better. 

Your knees hit the floor and you sit back on your heels, settling in between his feet. 

He groans and pushes forward to rest his elbows on his knees, looking down at you. One hand grabs your face, tilting it up so you’re looking at him. The hold on your jaw squishes your cheeks a bit. 

“You want it?” he says. 

Your eyes intuitively look down to his zipper. 

You nod. 

“Use your words.” 

“Yes,” you let out as best you can with his hand on your jaw. 

“Fuckin’ dirty girl,” Joel groans. His hand keeps your jaw in place, the other undoes his belt and frees his cock. 

“Thought ‘bout me all night, huh?” 

You nod out of habit. 

“What I just fuckin’ say?” he shakes his head, the hold on your jaw comes down to your throat, squeezing gently. 

“Yes — yes,” you say quickly. 

You look down to his cock again, the tip of it gleaming with precum. It sends a white heat straight to the apex at your thighs. 

“Please,” you whimper, looking up at him, “Can I?” 

Joel can’t resist you. You both know that much. 

“Alright,” he drops his hand from your throat. “C’mon princess.” 

He leans back slightly. You spring to your knees, not waiting for his permission, and take the tip of his cock into the heat of your mouth. The saltiness of it hits your tongue and you whimper around his length. It makes him groan. 

“Shit.” you hear him curse above you. 

He gathers your hair, raking it up into a mess at the top of your head. You suck and lick his tip, teasing him a bit before he gets impatient and pushes your head down. You don’t mind his advances, bracing your tongue for his length. 

But he’s big. 

Bigger than the few you’ve had — and you choke when he hits the back of your throat. You brace yourself on his thigh, trying to take the little he’s pushing you down on. 

“You can take it baby, c’mon. Slow.” 

His words shoot straight down to your cunt. You try but you’re not used to his length. 

“Chokin’ on it, c’mere —” he makes a move to pull his cock from your mouth but you whimper and slide in more across your tongue. He groans, “— fuck, baby.” 

You want to take more. You know you can take more. 

“Doin’ so good,” he grunts when you swallow more of him, “Fuck — you —”

Joel's hand holding your hair moves to your face. He runs his thumb across your cheek. It makes you look up at him through your lashes. His praise rings in your ears, and you can feel your hot slick dribble down your thighs. 

He stares at you taking him — mouth slack with lust. His rich drawl, velvet, coaxes you down further. 

“Goddamn angel —” he moans, “— so fuckin’ perfect.” 

His head tips back in pleasure when you take what doesn't fit in your mouth into your hand. 

He wipes the tears that spring from your efforts away with his thumb, looking at you kinda sympathetically. 

“Attagirl, fuckin’ made f’me, baby,” he whispers. You look up at him again, because it sounds like he might actually mean that. You press your thighs together at the thought. 

His words become quiet whimpers mixed with groans as you bob your head, steadily taking more — replacing your hand with your mouth. 

“In your fuckin’ throat,” he hisses out when your nose brushes against the mess of hair at the base. 

He slots his fingers through your hair, his hands, frantically touching you anywhere he can scramble to. 

When Joel goes silent you know he’s close. His soft breath becomes pants above you. 

When he grips your hair hard, you know he’s teetering on the edge and who are you to deny him?

His hips slightly cant towards your mouth, chasing his high, and he spurts down your throat in hot succession. He lets out a string of curses followed by your name. It makes you blush as you swallow. 

You release his cock from your mouth, sinking back onto your heels as you rest your cheek on his thigh. His breath rises and falls and you watch the place where his heart should be rhythmically moving. 

“Don't fuckin’ look at me like that,” he says, shaking his head and trying to avert his eyes. You look up at him, lazy, the slick between your thighs is enough to put a tortured look through your brows. 

His thumb wipes your chin, some cum dragging across your swollen lips, and sticks his thumb back into your mouth as you suck it clean. 

“Jesus, baby.” 

“What?” you smile back at him. 

Joel looks down at you, resting against his knee, in between his legs, your eyes lidded with lust and exhaustion. 

He bends down to kiss your lips, and then your forehead, whispering into your skin —

“You’re killin’ me.”

_

Everyone takes it easy the next morning, Sarah dips into the ocean in the afternoon, you help your dad with lunch. 

It's uneventful but it's nice. 

Your dad suggests going to the boardwalk for dinner, which you all agree to, Sarah wanted to check out the rides there. 

You slip into a dress, your dad said the restaurant was a bit fancy. You’re just grateful you brought a dress in the first place. You meet everyone downstairs, Joel looks up at you descending which makes you laugh a bit. It’s sort of like prom when you first come down the stairs and your date is waiting for you. Or like he’s prince charming and you’re Cinderella. 

But you get snapped out of that trance quickly. 

“Ready to go kiddo?” your dad says, moving towards the entrance. 

You smile at him, Sarah comes to your side, linking arms and goes on about how there's a ferris wheel and carousel on the boardwalk, across from the beachfront restaurants. 

You all pile into the truck, Joel in the driver’s seat. It's a short walk but it’ll be easier to drive with so many people.

Your dad was right, the restaurant is a bit fancy. And it feels like you’re suffocating when you sit down across from Joel, Sarah at your side. He looks up at you — you blush and smile to yourself, opening the menu. It’s far too formal for the four of you, but it’s a nice change. And you like seeing Joel in a button down. 

Dinner drowns on — you aren’t really paying attention to much because Joel’s foot keeps bumping into yours. Maybe it’s accidental. Or maybe it's a silent plea. 

Sarah’s voice snaps you out of it. 

“Please dad?” she asks, having cleaned her plate. 

You remember them talking in the truck, Sarah saying something about meeting a few friends her age on the beach. 

“They down near the rides?” Joel says, gruff. 

“Yes, dad. Like I’ve told you a million times,” she rolls her eyes and Joel laughs a bit, waving her off with a twenty and telling her to be safe and get back by midnight.

The two men turn their attention back to you. 

Joel’s foot knocks into yours again and you shoot him a look — though he doesn’t seem to be paying it much attention. You’d be lying if you said the uncertainty of his touches left you completely unbothered. 

You finish dinner with a coffee, the men have their drinks. 

You can't really think about much else until your dad's voice snaps you out of it. 

“So, what do you think?” 

But he's not talking to you. He's talking to Joel. 

“What do I think ‘bout what?” He asks. 

“Dude—” your dad is sipping at his whiskey, “Theresa?” 

Doesn’t seem like appropriate conversation when you’re present but that doesn’t really cross your mind because who the fuck is Theresa? 

“Uh, yeah she’s nice, man,” Joel says awkwardly. 

Nice? 

“Nice?” your dad scoffs, echoing your sentiment. 

Your dad looks over at you — “Been tryin’ to set Joel up with a lady,” he says, explaining. But it feels more like a punch in the face. Your eyes widen, you choke a little on your coffee. 

“Oh,” you say. Joel doesn’t meet your eye, “She from the neighborhood?” you inquire, thinking about the woman from the barbecue. 

Your dad nods. 

“She’s a teacher,” he says. “You probably met her at the barbecue.” 

He turns back to Joel.

“She likes you dude,” your dad says. “Think she’d be good for you.”

That feels less like a punch in the gut and more like you got roundhouse kicked in the face and slammed into the ground. You try not to let it get to you. 

“Just don’t know if I’m lookin’ right now,” is all he says in reply. You try not to look at him, but your brain subconsciously makes an effort for you, peering up at him through your lashes. He catches your eye quickly — and drops it in just as much time. 

Your dad grunts in response, waving down the waiter to get the bill. 

“What ever happened to that Liam kid?” he says, talking to you now. 

“Oh,” you reply kinda absentmindedly. You haven't really thought of Liam in a couple days. His texts remain unopened in your phone. 

“Nothing,” you shrug. 

“Hm, nice kid though,” your dad claps Joel on the back, “Ain’t you think so?” he says, talking to Joel now.

“Sure,” Joel lets out in his rich drawl. 

Another tap on your foot.

Joel’s eyes stare into yours but he doesn’t look angry — it's more of an expression you can’t read. 

He isn’t mad right? 

“Yeah,” you say, the conversation dying down. 

Your dad doesn’t see your stolen glances. 

“Why don’t you go with Joel, kiddo?” he says, fishing bills out of his wallet. 

“What?” You ask, shocked. 

“Need to handle some work-things back at the house, but I heard the boardwalk here is nice at night,” he nods over to the exit. 

You look at Joel tentatively. He nods towards the exit, giving your dad a handshake while you follow him outside. 

The cool air hits you. You shiver a bit, wrapping your arms around yourself. 

You fall into a steady stroll towards the boardwalk. You can see the lights from the ferris wheel a couple hundred feet ahead of you, the ocean water shining under the moonlight as you walk along the coast.

You look over at Joel, his hands digging into his pockets. 

“Good dinner?” you ask, smiling.

“Mhm,” he says.

You settle into the night, walking towards the carousel lighting up the center of the boardwalk. 

“C’mon, Joel,” you say, looking towards the small line waiting to get on. The lights shine a white-yellow — lighting up his eyes in the darkness. Kids scream. Adults laugh. It’s a bit too perfect. 

He looks at you and huffs. Almost like a no is already trained on his lips from habit. But when he looks at you, he stops himself. 

“Alright, c’mon,” he grabs you by your hand, interlacing your fingers and steps in line. 

The previous ride ends quickly, Joel steps on the platform first, helping you up, extending his hand. 

You both sit on one of the benches meant for parents. He drops an arm around you, like it’s second nature. You snuggle into it. 

“Haven’t been on one of these in years,” he says when the music starts and the platform begins to spin. Some kids run by, trying to claim the best animal. 

“Me too,” you say in reply. 

You remember the last time you’d been on a carousel. Your dad and Joel organized a day trip to the state fair — though it feels like forever ago — during high school. 

“State fair, remember?” You say, hesitant. 

“Yup,” he squeezes your shoulder. 

“Didn’t think you ‘member,” he continues. 

“Of course I do,” you look at him, he meets your eye. “You gave me my first sip of beer.” 

You wonder if that might strike a nerve. It’s more than a loaded statement — a bomb already counting down. 

He huffs a laugh. 

“Now look at you,” he says. 

“Yeah, all grown up or something,” you say, teasingly. 

“Or something’,” he echoes, with a huff, not meeting your eye.  

A few moments pass. 

You see a particularly pretty horse out of the corner of your eye. You begin to stand on the moving platform, Joel scrambles for your waist. 

“The hell are you doin’?” he grabs you, standing. 

You look back at him, entranced by the light circling his face. It looks perfect — he looks perfect. Picturesque. Hallmark. Like it could be a movie scene. Maybe in another life he would kiss you — with the horses spinning around you, the night sky staring down when he kisses you like nothing else matters. 

But you know Joel. 

And you know putting his arm around you was pushing his boundaries. 

“C’mon,” you pull him towards the horse that caught your eye. 

He grunts but follows you. 

You get on, both legs on one side, stumbling a bit on the way there. But you’re having fun, and Joel is here and he doesn’t want to leave. 

He stands next to the horse, looking up at you.

“Havin’ fun?” 

“Loads,” you smile at him, he smirks back, hiding his face when you touch the spot between his neck and his shoulder, squeezing. 

“You look pretty,” he cuts through the music. 

You try to hide your shock. 

Pretty. 

It's not like this with other guys. Sure, they've called you pretty, some even called you beautiful. But with Joel, you feel like he really means it. 

It also shoots down to the white heat building in your stomach. 

“You clean up nice, Miller,” you say with a blush. 

The ride ends, you both settle, walking through the boardwalk. A breeze rushes through, it sends a chill up your spine. 

You wrap your arms around yourself to trap some heat even though your efforts are fruitless. 

But Joel notices. 

“Got a jacket in the truck. C’mon,” he says, turning to walk back to the truck parked near the beach. 

You follow him. 

It might even be on instinct, but you snake your hand through his, interlocking your fingers while your other hand holds onto his arm where the crease of his elbow is. 

You don’t see him smile. 

When you get to the truck he opens the back door, leaning in to grab his jacket out of the backseat. He wraps it around your body. The smell instantly fills your nostrils and shoots down to your core. It’s his heavy work jacket and it’s entirely too big for your small frame but you like it — love it. 

When you finish putting it on, he looks at you, still standing by the open car door. He leans back against the seat cushion, looking at you with crossed arms. 

“A little big,” you giggle, showing him your hands which disappear into the canvas sleeves. 

“Looks good on you,” he says with a smile. 

You walk towards him, he wraps his arms around you. 

“Thanks,” you say into his chest. 

Joel hums in response. 

A breeze pushes on your legs and you can feel your nipples pebble against your dress — you think Joel can feel it too if his sudden stiffness is any indication.

You adjust in his arms, slotting yourself between his legs. 

You can feel him. 

“Kiss me,” you say, looking up at him. 

“We’re in public,” he doesn’t look down at you, but you can see the muscle in his jaw tick. You don’t know why he’s being withholding. No one is nearby — Joel’s truck is the only one left in the parking lot. 

“Please?” 

“Not now.” 

His tone might suggest he doesn’t actually want to kiss you. But his cock pressing hard against your stomach tells a different story. 

“Joel,” you whine, wriggling against him. 

“Quit,” he says. 

You try to stop moving. But the feeling of him, hard, against you, makes your cunt throb.

He stops you before you make any decisions. 

“Don’t.” 

“I didn’t even do anything.”

“Know you’re thinkin’ of somethin’,” he says, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Needy,” he complains. 

You’re about to drop it. But his hand snakes around your waist under his jacket. The movement hikes your dress up, his hand resting on your low back.

You are — needy. 

But you just need him.

“Joel,” you say, giving him a warning. 

“What, baby?” he says, teasing. 

“Please.” 

Not a question — a statement. 

A plea. 

Joel looks down at you for a couple seconds. Then he taps your ass towards the inside of the truck. 

“Get in,” he moves so you can crawl in first, spinning around when you get to the other side of the truck’s backseat, shucking off his jacket and hiking up your dress. He crawls in after you, shutting the door. 

He’s quick with his belt, undoing his jeans in a frantic fashion — pulling his tucked shirt out of his pants. His cock is free before you have the chance to pull down your panties. 

Joel pushes your dress up more, revealing your underwear. He plays with the straps a bit, before pushing them to the side roughly. The sudden movement causes them to rip a little.

“Joel!” you say, as he grabs your panties and stuffs them into his pocket. 

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he pants, sucking a mark into your hip. 

His fingers find your core as you lay down along the back seat, opening your legs, your thighs covered with slick. Joel’s thick fingers slide through your folds. His breath hitches and he lets out a curse to find you soaking wet, staining your legs. 

“Fuck baby, you didn’t…?” he trails off, referring to after you had his cock in your mouth and he told you to get some rest. 

You shake your head. “Waiting for you,” you pant, breathless. 

“Christ,” he groans, playing a thumb on your clit as you writhe under him. “This all for me?” 

“Yes — Joel — you,” you say through moans. 

He pumps his cock with your slick on his hand, moving so it's trained at your aching entrance — his hand shoots out above your head and braces himself on the car door. 

“Fuckin’ in the car like teenagers,” he grunts, running his tip along your clit. 

“Please Joel,” you whine. You don’t know if you can take it any longer. 

Joel squeezes the tip in, your walls accept him graciously, the desire to be filled overwhelming your senses. 

He slides in slowly. You whine for him to go faster. 

“Need you — please, just —” 

“Shut up — fuck — not gonna last,” he groans into the crook of your neck. 

“God—” you moan when he slides home, his hips pressing into your thighs. 

Joel can feel you pulsing around him. You’re dangerously close already. 

The windows gather condensation from your combined pants. 

You try to angle your hips up to meet him, fucking him back as he thrusts slowly, but that makes him groan more. 

“Jesus Christ, baby,” he says, his thick drawl wrapping all through the truck, stoking the fire burning in your low belly. 

You want more — no — need more. 

You push his chest back. He looks at you confused but compiles. He sits back in the seats, you straddle him, pushing his cock towards your entrance. 

You look at him. He stares back in awe. 

“Baby—” you cut him off by sinking down on his cock, the tip sneaking past your entrance. He lets out a strangled groan. 

You take him, inch by inch, feeling his girth stretch you out in an entirely different way at this angle. 

“Fuck, feel so good, Joel,” you settle on top of him, both of your chests panting against each other as you grind your hips a bit. “So deep,” you moan out, cockdrunk. 

His hands find your waist and hips, begging you to move — to do anything. You look down to his jacket on the seat. His work jacket. That he wears around the neighborhood. You’re not sure why but your dad’s comments about Theresa enter your mind. 

“Do you have a crush on anyone in the neighborhood?” 

“What?” he asks with a grunt. “I’m literally inside you.” 

“I know, but…” 

You shift a bit in his lap, the movement makes both of you moan out. 

“Said she’d be good for you,” you manage to get out. 

“Don’t really remember her,” he whispers, trying to push his hips into you. “‘N don’t agree.” 

“You don’t like her? — ah —” you start rocking on his hips, chasing a high that's settled in your stomach on instinct. 

“No,” he fucks into you, chasing his own.

“Then what do you think?”

His eyes dart up to yours, holding your gaze for the first time tonight, not breaking it or looking away.  

“Think I like you,” he breathes into your cheek. 

He says it with such a genuine tone even though he’s deep inside you. It makes your stomach do a flip, finding the urge to ride him incessant through your loud thoughts of what could be. When he says things like that it’s hard to ignore it any longer. When he looks at you like that you know you’re completely done for. 

“Fuck —” you say, clenching around him. 

You ride him, the notion of his words settling in your chest and pushing you towards your release quicker than you thought possible. 

You’re coming before he can respond. 

“Oh my — fuck, Joel,” you whine. 

“That’s it, attagirl — fuck,” he goes silent, chasing his own high as you relax around him. 

His hands urge you to continue moving. He kisses you, like a man starved. All your silent begging through the night erupting with one kiss as you come down from your high. It's like he was telling you at the restaurant — be patient and at the carousel — just wait. 

Your stomach tightens at the feeling of his breath on your neck, sucking and biting and just smelling your skin. 

You continue to ride him through your post orgasmic haze. He chases his own release like he's done the whole night. 

“Oh baby — I —” he groans when you nip at his earlobe. 

“Please Joel, wanna feel you,” you whisper into his ear. 

He groans at that, pushing you down by your hips faster, you grind against him, a piece of clay destined to be molded to his body perfectly. 

“Jesus — fuck,” he groans, wrapping his arms around you, sinking his teeth into your neck, and coming inside you with hot hands running over your back. 

When he relaxes under you, he presses soft kisses to your temple, you tremble from the thought of his hot slick oozing out of you through the night. 

“Did so good for me, such a good girl,” he whispers into the dark truck. 

You slump against him, he holds onto you. 

His words ring in your ears. 

Think I like you.

You smile when you look at him. 

“What?” he asks, a smirk on his lips. 

“You said you like me,” you chide, teasing him. 

“Shut up,” he breathes, laughing a bit. 

“Don’t worry,” you kiss him, “I like you too.” 

_

taglist! (comment or message me if you would like to be added) kisses to you all:

@nostalxgic @iluvurfather

@thatgirlpeaches @prettyangelsthing @loreleiintheskye @ghostofjoharvelle @vickywallace @nevertrustapanda16 @crocodiile @lovely-ateez @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @expir3dl0v3 @koshkaj-blog @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @smol-beb @bbyanarchist @evyiione @dlwrish @mishala005 @mxtokko @faeriemel @caatheeriinee07 @virgils-left-hoodie-string @sorry--for-the-mess

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey love! if you're still accepting requests, could I get an extremely wild, rough and feral nsfw Daemon x wife fem!reader please? (feel free to ignore and sorry if the request is weird, but I'm thirsty for this handsome fictional man who unfortunately doesn't exist)

Frost Bite

Daemon Targayen x Stark!Reader

Summary: You were travelling back to home soil in anticipation of your wolf's heat cycle. Besides the fact that you could not stand the sound of your prince husband's breathing and the fact you were certain he would perish in the cold, there was one more reason why you did not want him to join you: the fact the heat was affecting you too.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Basically PWP, 5k+ SMUT T_T (non-con [daemon touches her while she's asleep], virgin!reader, she cries for various reasons, fingering, choking, biting, degradation kink, corruption kink, spitting, marking, edging, oral [fem receiving], breeding kink, cream pie), RIP feminism, opens with a wet dream, brief mentions of near death experience in a snow storm, dark!daemon (but imo its just canon daemon) fem!reader, wife!Reader, soft!daemon, typos, etc.

A/N: YEAH MINORS DNI. LOL SO I was planning to write this for my part 2 of my Stark!Reader, but i got lazy and didn't want to create a whole plot leading up to the smut, so i removed it all together, which I guess worked out swell for you nonnie, since I was planning something absolutely unhinged. I hope you liked that fic of mine since you're basically getting a p3 of it So here's part 1, here's part 2, but you don't need to read any of them to understand, but i suggest you do for background cos lol this is PWP T_T Next part ig but its a blurb "✨Magic✨" OMG NEXT PART BUT ITS NOT A BLURB "Moon Cycle" Also nonnie, i wanted to tell you albeit asking for smut is pretty awkward HAHAHAH you gotta process these feelings somehow you know. i mean, we could have been criminals, like Daemon, instead but we're not, and that's what matters (unless you are a criminal in which case im closing my eyes) this gif of him is so large on pc but idc he's so hot MATT I WANT YOU SO BAD FUCK OFF if someone snitches to big brother again like in In Your Defense /: Idk if you want to be, but I'm tagging everyone I tagged in the previous fic, as well as the others that commented there SO HI THIS IS SMUT YOU CAN GO IF YOU WANT LOL HAHHAH @aralezinspace @em-the-lurker @blue1006 @mukduk-not-murder @min-jianhyung @deniixlovezelda @moonmaiden1996 @thatmysteriousblog

I caught him. I caught him doing the very thing I dreaded to catch him do. The one thing I accused him of doing every night, though in my heart of hearts I wished he did not... not that I would ever admit it to his face. Because why would I? Admitting it would mean- "You want me," Daemon heaved against the neck of the woman beneath him. He cranes his neck up as he thrust into her, smirking, eyes dark, "you want this to be you," he pants as he stares at me, "don't you?" I am in my place, frozen, watching and hearing the woman come undone underneath my husband who kisses her tenderly. "Daemon," I whimper helplessly, teary eyed, "Daemon please." "Fuck off."

I jolt awake, sweat sheening my neck and chest. I turn to my bed, empty, because though Daemon insisted we sleep together and I could not fight him in his decision, he did not return to me until nigh dawn.

I wipe my face as I recall my intensifying dreams.

It seems my travels up North would come quicker than anticipated.

And as much as I wanted to tell him I told you so, oh to all the gods, how badly he deserved it, there was no time for me to gloat when Daemon did the very thing I warned him not to, fall into the icy river.

It was instantaneous. The cracking of the ice, the splashing of water, the scream that escaped me. Maybe I should have left him in the cave we kept Caraxes, who he insisted on bringing. But then again he would have insisted on joining me to the cabin, the way he insisted on joining me here up North in the first place.

And now I had to deal with the consequences of his actions.

It was sheer miracle that I got him out of the river without falling into it myself, sheer stupidity of me to rid him of his coat and offer him mine when the blistering snow storm was not relenting, and quite clearly the sheer will of the gods that both of us made it to the cabin... barely.

The moment we walked in, I shut the door and scrambled towards the fireplace. As my fingers shivered, I thought of Havoc, and how at least I know she would find mine and Daemon's corpses if ever we do not make it. I had sent her away when the storm came out of nowhere because we had to find cover for Caraxes, and she would not have been any of help to us if she were here with us anyway.

My poor pup. She would be heartbroken if she saw me frozen. And Caraxes...

I curse the flint, I curse the cold, I curse the gods, and I curse Daemon for every time I failed to light a fire. I thanked the Stranger for finally allowing me the mercy of my eventual success.

Once the fire was burning steady, I get on my feet and run to Daemon, hauling him over to the fire roughly in haste where he helpelessly kneels in front of. He could do nothing but shiver as I scramble to get some dry clothes and sheets for the both of us.

I yank him closer to the fire and begin to undress him.

Seeing as he is nothing but docile to my actions and how his skin was turning grey, I began to grow frantic, "you cannot fucking die, you prick!"

I rip his top off and quickly clothe him, "I did not go through all the trouble of marrying you for nothing. I refuse to be forced into another marriage because your stupid ass froze to death."

Daemon's shudder comes out in a thick condensation.

"Fuck," I whimper, as I struggle to get him out of his boots and breeches.

I shrivel up at the feel of his frozen fingers then brush against my arm and I shake my head rapidly, realizing there was no choice. The only way I can warm him quickly enough is if I share my own.

I strip him naked, pulling off the shirt I struggled to put on him as well, then wrap him in a fur blanket in the meantime. I then take off my own clothes and hiss at the nipping cold.

The fact Daemon does not even look at my naked form strikes a chord in me.

I straighten him up and fix the blankets on his legs and thighs before I sit on his lap. I press my bare chest against his and whimper at his dangerously concerning coldness.

He shivers against me as his face rests helplessly on my shoulder. His breath that hits my skin is not even hot.

"Remember, you're too fucking stubborn to die," I say as I wrap my legs around his torso and graciously place his fingers beneath my bottom.

His lack of warmth literally brings tears to my eyes.

I reach out for the other blanket and wrap it over myself, consequently Daemon, before I wrap my arms around him and breathe hotly against his face.

I rub his back, "will you allow irony to take you? The hot blooded prince defeated by the cold?"

He releases a shiver and moves his head. He mutters something, but his quaking body does not allow me to make sense of it.

"Do not waste your energy," I chide.

And so for a long moment, we stay like this, wrapped in each other's arms, sharing each other's heat. I do my best to warm him. I even nuzzle against him, the way Havoc did me, just so I could warm his stupid face.

Daemon finally finds it in him to lean against my touch, and when he does, he mutters under his breath, "irony-" shudder, "-would be if the- N-Northern princ-ces-s-ss died in the cold."

My face contorts and yet I cannot help but chuckle at him, glad he can sputter his nonsense again, "then I should make Caraxes burn you for your stupidity."

I shiver when I feel his icy lips kiss my neck. Goosebumps form on my skin when I feel the hot breath that follows. My hands rake up to his nape, where I then dig my fingers as I pull away.

"N-n-nno!" he stutters, hands coming around my hips to brace me tightly, "I ss-swear I'm not warm yet-t-t."

I pull back again though to face him when I said, "I only wanted to tell you," I lean my forehead against his face, "I fucking told you so, you stupid idiot."

I rest my face on his shoulder and close my eyes, knowing I would not be off him any time soon.

I dream about him. I dream about kissing his shivers away. I dream about pulling the fur blanket that separated our legs away, and riding him until he was warm.

I dream about how good he feels, and how he burns inside me. I dream about calling his name, unlike how I did in my other dreams. I was no longer calling out in betrayal, I was calling out in pleasure.

Daemon.

Daemon.

"Daemon," I trail off in a groan, willing my heavy eyelids open. I feel pressure building up inside me before I understand what's happening.

I not know how, but I am laid on a bed, head on a pillow, form still naked. Daemon is sat up beside me, peering down at me and his hands.

I whine.

His fingers-

"Oh fucking hell," he groans as his other hand begins to knead at my breasts, "you feels so good wrapped around my fingers, I-"

I cut him off with my squeak, hands flying to his arm, thighs closing shut, squeezing this hand in between my thighs.

"Daemon," the dazed quality of my voice is gone.

He tilts his head, face twisting, a challenge.

When I struggle and wrangle against him, all it takes is his hand on my throat to make me go still. I barely manage a choke and my breath continues to leave me as his fingers quicken their pace inside me.

He only releases me after I shake and shudder when I come.

It is overwhelming and nothing at all like I have dreamed or imagined, unlike all the times I've touched myself in secret. It was intense but there was a shame tied to it.

My entire body is hot and tears prick my eyes at his relentless ministrations.

"You were too fucking ready for that," Daemon mutters dryly as he quickly pulls away and shifts in his spot, "how long have you imagined fucking me, hmm?"

Before I even have the brain to do something, he crawls down the bed, "was it when you caught me touching myself to you?" He sinks down, grabbing my legs, "or have you done it before and withheld me of your sweet cunt for no fucking reason?"

All at once, he brings his face between my legs and begins to lick all the slickness off my pulsing core.

"DAEMON!" I scream, pressing my thighs close as I push myself up on my elbows, trying to break free of him.

He ignores me and forces my legs open even as I kick them in protest, "you will not deny me something you so clearly want yourself."

He grunts and pushes my legs down before grabbing my hands that were shoving him away, "you fucking bitch," he grips me tightly, "you will not find it in yourself to fight me off once I make a whore out of you."

I growl at his words, feeling my stomach drop along with my tears because of it.

I was realizing just how strong he really was, and how in moments where our arguments got a bit physical, he has probably holding back. The revelation of this does not cease my attempts at freeing myself, but it is as pointless as I feared.

Daemon rises up from his spot, nearing me, up until he is breathing against my cheek and rubbing his hardened length against my wetness.

I turn away from him, unable to really do anything else and shudder as he speaks, "you said it yourself, you did not go through all this trouble marrying me for nothing."

I screw my eyes shut, feeling tears fall, "Daemon."

He shushes me, pulling my arms up above my head, "you should not worry. I refuse to die now that I know of your lust."

I whimper as he rolls his hips against me, "still, the idea of someone claiming you- fuck-" he groans gutturally, "had I died..." he trails of in another groan, "someone else would have gotten my prize and it would have been all be your fault."

Daemon squeezes my wrist in one hand then grabs my jaw, forcing me to turn to him. I keep my eyes shut though as he heaves hotly, "I should utterly ruin every part of you so you can never have anyone but me. Though make no mistake, I would never let that happen as I so fucking breathe."

"Hypocrite," I scoff.

He laughs and I tense at the feeling of his vibrations, "she speaks."

I dare to look at him as I pant, "you do not desire me. You're just a spoiled brat who merely wants to wet his cock, just like how you do every night."

"Oh," he groans, "is this jealousy I hear?" He squeezes my cheeks, "is my pretty whore jealous that she is not the only one?"

"Fuck you!" I manage out though muffled.

Daemon laughs at the feel of tears rushing down his fingers, "do not cry, foolish wife. I'll have you know I have not wet my cock ever since I called out your name when I fucked someone else before our wedding day."

He releases my face. I attempt to even out my breath.

"I hadn't even realized until she asked me who-"

"And you think you deserve an award for that?!" I quip through my heavy breathing.

He lets out a laugh that makes me whimper, "I think you ought to know that mine own want for you has made everyone else undesirable," he licks my cheek, making me pull my head away from him, "I have been so pent up in want and for what? Because you're too bull headed to allow me anything other than my lonely hand?"

I try to wrangle out of his grip again, and he presses his whole body on me in response, "it's quite adorable that you still have it in you act like you didn't just call my name out loud while you dreamt of fucking me."

He rubs his nose against my jaw, "you wanna know how I know?"

"Fuck off-"

"You were rutting against me like a hussy," he sighs, "by the gods, had I known you were so wanton at night, I would have never granted you the insult of sleeping alone."

I could feel myself burn hotter with each word that leaves his lips despite myself. I did not want him to catch me like this, but there was no use; I was already caught.

As Daemon rocks his hips on mine, he hisses, undoubtedly feeling how much wetter I had gotten was beneath him.

"Fuck," he trails off, "here's what going to happen," he whispers, rutting against me rougher.

I cannot for the life of me withhold my whimper.

He chuckles as he presses his face against mine, "I'm going to make you come with my tongue and then I'm going to fuck you until you cry."

"Daemon, please stop-"

"Your heartbeat against my cock and how fucking wet you are disagrees with your protest, little liar," he croons. He lifts his head, then leans his forehead against mine, "don't worry, my little virgin, you will not cry because it hurts, you will cry because you'll want it so bad that it hurts."

"Daemon-"

"You will not refuse me," he whispers, though it is anything but sweet, "not when there is not a sliver of doubt in my mind that you want this too."

He brings his hands to my neck again and I wait for his grip to tighten, but it does not, "now say it."

I look up at him as my breathing quickens.

"Yield," he commands, breathing heavily all of a sudden.

I look up at him feeling my belly swirl in ways I could not ever explain.

"Admit to both our ears that you burn for me just as I have been fucking burning for you."

I yelp when he puts pressure on my throat then releases it.

"Say it," he barks.

"I-"

"Say you want me," he says softer this time.

I am disarmed by his quick change in tone and a shiver leaves me as the cold finds its way to my belly as he pulls away. Daemon releases my hands then begins to crawl down. His eyes are fixed on my as he mutters once more, "say it."

I shudder as he presses my thighs against his cheeks then whispers, almost begging, "say it."

I turn away from him and close my eyes, awaiting his next actions, for it was not like I could stop him if I refuse.

"Say it," he urges louder, "you know you want to."

I clench my jaw, "just do what you want and be done with it."

He growls, and goosebumps form on my skin when I feel him bite at the inner most part of my thigh. I grip at the sheets at the feel of teeth and tongue. I bite my lips tightly to keep myself from making any noise.

"I should, shouldn't I?" Daemon mutters.

I yelp and look down at him when his finger strokes my core.

His eyes are dark as he airily chuckles at my reaction, "after all I have given you my name, my Targaryen queen. You are no longer your own, you are forever mine."

I watch him as he lifts his head up and kisses my sopping heat. I flinch when he nips at me, drawing my nub out with his teeth. He lifts his head as he releases my flesh. His chin is glistening with my slick as he says, "I want you."

My breath leaves me when he says this.

"And I know you want me too, but I have to-- I need you to say it." He repositions himself in my thighs, "you are after all married to maniac," he breathes against me, "now, say it."

He shakes my thighs, "SAY IT!"

"I want you," I snap, "Daemon, I-" a loud cry rips out of me before I can even continue.

The sound of him lapping his tongue on me, eating me out as if I was his final meal, was somehow louder than my cries. I cannot help but so violently react to him as he devours me. He forces me still in his grip and fights off the movement of my thighs with his face.

It seems as though my admittance has reduced me into nothing but needy sounds.

Without another thought, my hands reach down at him and dig into his silver hair. I arch my back and pull at him when his tongue flicks into me.

"Fucking slut," he mutters, squeezing my thighs as he pulls me apart.

I scream out his name as he digs his face deeper into me. I lift my head up when he pulls away to laugh, "look at you, rutting against me like the needy whore you are."

I don't have time to find offence in his words because I still, not even realizing I was in fact moving my hips against him. He laughs as he continues his work, leaving me no time to feel embarrassment and only hot pleasure.

He is fucking good at what he does. He's so fucking good that my mind wanders where it should not. How much practice has he gotten to be this good? It is precisely because of this that I finally break, "all for you, Daemon," I grab his cheeks, "all for you-- all mine."

I do not see how his eyes dart up to me for I then throw my head back and whine. I feel myself come close to my undoing, "fuck, Daemon, don't stop."

I shriek when I bites me.

Just as I am inching so close, all at once, he pulls away from me.

I pant and stiffen as I hear and feel him spit on me. Much like all other moments, I do not have time to react. When I turn to him, he grabs my legs and shoves me to my side.

I begin to panic when he rises to his knees.

"I'll be fucking damned if I don't make you come on my cock right now," he grunts, making my eyes drop down to the very thing, erect, hard, and angry.

"Get on your knees, bitch," he blurts, though he doesn't give me much of a chance to as he drags me up into the position he wants me by my hips.

I haven't even propped myself up on my arms yet when he unceremoniously begins to pound into me.

I am certain if anyone could hear us in the middle of this storm, they would think I was mad, or worse, being tortured.

"I'm going to breed that prurient wolf in you, just as I'm sure your wolf, Havoc, is being bred right now."

I growl at the idea and feel my belly tighten at his words.

Daemon groans before he chuckles, "that's it, isn't it?"

His relentless thrusts begin to grow sloppy. Suddenly, he yanks me by my hair and lifts me up. His other hand slaps to my throat to offer painful support as he pulls me up against him.

I choke on my spit when my form presses against him with difficulty. He sinks down on his knees, my core wrapped around his length as he shifts me in a snug position atop him.

His hands make their way to my breasts to roughly grope them. His teeth sink down on my shoulder.

I release a wild sound as my own hands come on top of his. I am left moaning at how his mouth sinks into my skin.

Daemon makes sure to suck hard before pulling away. For a moment he catches his breath before speaking, "you did not want me here because you are affected by your wolf's heat, aren't you."

The way I begin to slowly bounce on top of him is enough of an answer to him.

He laughs as his hands depart from my tender breasts, one going down to my sensitive nub, the other sealing my throat again, "you are a fucking selfish bitch for keeping your cunt from me."

My breathing becomes arduous when he tightens his grip around me.

"You would have preferred to touch yourself to the thought of me?" he questions as he rubs on my sensitive nub.

"Daemon," I gasp, pushing my head back as his lips latch on my neck again.

He ceases the moment of his fingers as he finishes grazing on my skin. "Yes, my pretty whore?" he mutters in between his kisses, "what do you want, hmm?"

My breathing strains when his hand tightens around my throat more. I catch my breath when he releases his grip to push my hair off to the side, "tell me what you want me to do to you."

I call out his name. He calls out mine.

I find myself grabbing his hands as I moan out, "I want you to fuck me."

Without another word, I am thrown down to the bed. The only reason I'm still on him is because of his hands that latch on my hips.

I am nothing against his strength. He handles me like a ragdoll, fucking me with absolutely no regard and nothing else in mind.

I make sounds that mean nothing. His name is polluted by my whimpers and cries that you cannot make head or tail of.

I would not last any longer with how he was handling me, even if I wanted to, even if I tried.

"That's it my easy bitch," he pants, "come around me like the needy whore you are."

"Daemon-"

"Your eager cunt will take my seed well when I fill you up," his one hand leaves my hip and rips my head back by my hair again, "don't you think, pretty wife?"

"Yes," I reply without thinking, "yes, yes, yes, yes-"

"And you will give me your pups," he mutters, "bare my dragons, like a dutiful wife will you not?"

My only response is my body breaking orgasm. I shiver beneath him, falling powerless as I scream his name and crumble, absolutely boneless.

Daemon lets out a string of curses as he milks out my reaction for all he's got.

He does not waver once bit and it maddeningly delicious.

My voice hikes up when I feel him release inside me not too late after.

"Fucking come slut," he barks as he snaps his hips in me, "take it all just like that."

I bury my screams in the cushions he presses on, unrelenting. When he finally does grow sloppy, I take a moment to catch my breath and relish the feel of him.

I whimper when he pulls away and slaps my ass.

"The absolute mess you've made of yourself," he coos, as he rubs the skin he slapped.

I can feel myself leaking, I can feel it all over my legs, on the sheets, and I could practically feel his pleased smile as he watches the lewd display. I could not bring myself to care at all though, not when my legs begin to fall.

I squeak when Daemon rearranges me on the bed. He is not at all as rough as he was with me a while ago, but his strength and my lack thereof does not really allow him to be gentle.

He falls onto the side of the bed next to me and gathers me into his chest. When I roll over to him, I groan at the feeling of my wet thighs pressing together.

"Do not make issue of that," Daemon says as he watches me squirm. He pulls me close to him, arm over my shoulders. His other hand hooks behind my knee, dragging me atop him. I whimper and push my hand on his chest when I feel core empty out on his thigh.

He does not allow me to pull away and I turn to him because of this. Daemon forces me close against him, "are you so haughty over my come that you cannot bare the thought of it-"

"But it's getting everywhere," I start off loudly but end with a whisper.

Daemon's nostrils flare as he shakes his head, "I should sure hope so."

I feel my cheeks burn and so I decide to hide my face in his chest.

His laughter intensifies, and I do not enjoy how my head bounces on his ribcage because of it.

"Oh meekness suits you well, my dear."

I weakly mumble, "fuck off."

His amusement continues as he rubs my arms, "you mean, 'I want you to fuck me, Daemon.' "

"I did not say it like that!" I quip, lifting my head as I turn to him, finally making him cease his stupid laughter. The sight of his stupid smug face still glimmering in slick renders me frozen.

Suddenly I am aware of how cold the room still was.

"Pray tell, how did you say it?" he hums, pushing hair behind my ear.

I furrow my brows and press my cheek on his chest again, admitting lowly, "I didn't say your name at the end."

"My," he draws shapeless figures on my skin, "I'm glad to know the moment is burned in your very being."

"Fuck off," I mutter under my breath, scratching my eye. It dawns onto me that my face was equally as wet as Daemon's. Heat rises up my face again when I realize I really did cry because of how good he felt.

"Don't fret," he sighs, "there is a reason why you should not worry yourself about how your pretty cunt is leaking blood and come. I shall fuc-"

I turn to him in concern and push myself up.

Daemon furrows his brows and shakes his head, "it is normal," he soothes, grabbing my cheek, "or did you just forget your maidenhood was still intact after imagining fucking me?"

I am suddenly aware how real everything was. My husband has finally gotten me to consummate our marriage and all his talk of me bearing his seed could may well come true. My chest begins to constrict as my mind floods with endless scenarios.

"Well, if you start frowning like that, I might actually feel bad," Daemon mutters, lifting himself up on his elbows, "what's wrong?"

I look at his concerned expression and find myself speaking before I realize, "did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" he clarifies quickly.

"That you want me," I quip just as fast.

He stares at me for a moment, as if he was taken aback or measuring the truthfulness in my voice. When a prolonged moment passes between us, he realizes I was serious.

"Fuck," he drops his head back, "it must be exhausting to be a woman with your overthinking."

"Well, pardon me for not-"

"You are pardoned," he blurts, making me whimper when he suddenly flips us over.

I am beneath him again. He does nothing but press his weight on me, but I struggle beneath him, not enjoying the idea of remaining in an uncomfortable position.

He misreads my intentions and hinders me from moving, as he wraps his arms around me, "I just told I want you, that I burn for you, that I want you to mother my children. Do you honestly think I am one to say that to anyone?"

I gulp as he shifts to nestle his face in the crook of my neck, "I..." he breathes against my skin. He does not continue as he opts to kiss my neck instead.

When I move to wrap my own arms around him, he speaks again, "I am at your mercy. You saved me from freezing to death when you could have easily decided to rid of me."

I press my cheek against him and begin to comb through the long hair on his back, "I was serious about my distaste to remarry."

"Well, you will not," he quickly retorts, "you will have me until the end."

I bring my legs around him as I release a sigh, "consider me overjoyed by the thought."

He chuckles as he shifts, "you do not sound-"

"I did not want to admit it," I cut him off, "but I think I..." I turn to him as he lifts his head, "I think I... care for you, Daemon... I-"

"Love you," he finishes, staring at me with an unreadable expression.

And for the first time since our nuptials, he kisses me. He kisses me not because he has to, not for the sake of showing everyone present, but because he wanted to, for the sake of showing me.

He is nothing but warmth, nothing but fire, nothing but him. Daemon is not sweet, but in this moment he put even honey to shame.

He begins to stir on top me, though he makes sure his lips do not leave mine. It is because of my moan that we are broken apart, the moan that leaves me when I feel him slip inside me.

"Daemon-"

"You know how I fuck," he sighs, rubbing his nose against mine, "but now we'll both know how I make love."

[highvern]

Sales Pitch II

Pairing: Moon Junhui x fe!reader, feat. Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, 21+

Warnings: consensual voyeurism, exhibitionism, cum eating, spitting, unprotected sex, cream pie, snowballing, dom/sub themes, masturbation, multiple sex positions, impact play, choking, take me to paris wonhui!

Length: ~5k

Note: for all legal purposes, im still on semi-hiatus! this is just more torture for my bestie @wenjunehui patterns is still shelved until further notice, don't ask me about updates pls :) as always lmk what you guys think! also please ignore any errors i cracked this out in a lust fueled haze for pathetic bratty sub jun

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

Read part I

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Your back meeting the cool wood of the door muffles the click of the lock. All you can feel is Wonwoo; the weight of his body, his lips trailing across your jaw, his hair curled around your fingers. A sharp tug lets you feel more, urging him to grind his half hard cock into your core.

Darkness encases your intertwined figures on all sides. Only the faint light about the stove casting a hazy yellow that fails to reach the far corners of the room. You like it better this way. More anticipation in every touch. A flash of Wonwoo’s pale skin when your fingers drift under his sweater, or the dim shadow of his form dancing across your shut eyelids as he moves you further inside.

He doesn’t waste any time rushing towards the counter, lifting you up easily and shoving a hand up your short skirt. Wonwoo finds what you both knew he would; soaked and pantiless with arousal smeared between your thighs. You’d played the game all night, biting your tongue each time his finger tips skimmed the inside of your knee during the movie. Or at dinner when he watched you with an unimpressed gaze over the rim of his wine glass. All of it built up to this. 

A finger dips in; barely breaching your entrance before retreating. The tease makes you desperate; tightening around each thrust to convince him to stay and press deeper only for Wonwoo to chuckle and leave you gaping again and again with more slick dripping down his digits each time. 

“C’mon,” you huff. You're quick to snag his wrist, using every ounce of strength to force in place as your hips grind up. 

Wonwoo needs no more encouragement after the first sharp whimper of satisfaction you release. Instead, he presses hard with another finger until you can feel him in your lungs. The suffocating heat of your top results in its swift removal. But the relief is short lived as teeth nip at the curve of your breasts before dropping to suck a nipple through the lace. Thighs muffling the debauchery, you pant into his hairline while his own mouth focuses on bruising your chest.

Skirt belting your hips, Wonwoo drops more fervent kisses as he descends lower and lower. The granite of the counter is cool against your sweat back but unforgiven when you arch at the first timid flash of his tongue through your folds. The mess between your legs turns obscene under his mouth, lips smacking with each lash against your clit.

But it’s all still a tease. Nothing but a show to prove he can give and take and give and take until you’re willing to cry for more. Or at least until the man watching from the shadows caves and blows the illusion. 

In your peripheral, Jun stands out in the arm chair at the far end of the room. If you didn’t know he was there then you’d never guess. The kitchen and living room connected in what is really a singular large space, uninterrupted by anything that could distract the view. And what a view he has; you topless, nipples shiny and spine curled while his roommate eats you out on the counter. 

You won’t look where you know he’s sitting, no doubt cupping himself over his jeans in desperation. Jun is a good boy. He touches when he’s told and sits on his hands when he can’t help it. But you’re spread like a feast under Wonwoo’s mouth and Jun is just a man.

Wonwoo plucks and strokes, nips and sucks, driving you inch by desperate inch to the brink. Warm and worn under his mouth, another finger sinks in easily but Wonwoo goads anyway.

“Fucking tight,” he jests a little too loud for the small space between you but he wants Jun to hear. It’s sick. 

Especially when you hear a sharp inhale from where he sits.

The flat of Wonwoo’s palm lands on your stomach, skin sticking to skin as he forces your hips down. You don’t take to the warning. With your coworker slash friend with benefits who you occasionally go on dates with but not saying anything, you call all the shots. If you want to hump his face until he passes out from lack of oxygen, Jun will beg you to do it. If you want to sit on his cock while he counts the register, well it might take him five times to get the numbers in order but what his queen wants, she gets.

Wonwoo isn’t as eager to let you take charge and lets you know with the impact of his hand on your cunt.

“Fuck!”

He massages away the sting, thumb dipping to replace his tongue at your clit. “Stop moving.”

“Fuck off.” You bite.

The air cracks with tension. You’d take the amused twitch of Wonwoo’s lips as a challenge if it wasn't for the plan hatched during the car ride home. A sure fire way to get Jun so riled up he’d ruin his record of perfect behavior and give you and Wonwoo the chance to punish him the best way possible.

Your back talk goes as planned. Wonwoo rises, a tight grip at the back of your neck while he drags you up. It looks worse than it is. Another tease at Jun, taunting him with the idea of you giving him the same treatment.

But instead of fucking you over the counter like originally discussed, Wonwoo fumbles towards your room, out of Jun’s sight. You can hear him rise to follow with rushed footsteps but the door slams shut in his face before he can stop it. The lock clicks just as quickly and your left stifling amused cackles with Wonwoo doing the same.

“What the fuck guys?” Jun calls from the other side, rattling the door knob desperately. 

Is it better to acknowledge his frustration or pretend he doesn’t even exist? Jun calls again, a timid knock punctuating his plea. 

“Yeah?” You call, back settling against the door louder than necessary. Wonwoo takes back up the work at your chest, sucking a taunt nipple between his teeth while you do all the talking.

“I’m locked out.”

Your head thuds back as Wonwoo licks his way to your neglected breast, responding with more breath to hint at what's transpiring out of his line of sight, “We’re kinda busy.” 

“But—” he starts, only to be silenced.

“Oh, Wonwoo! Fuck.”

His fingers aren’t as deft as Jun’s and neither is his tongue but you’re spurred by the frustration in Jun’s tone. The metal of the knob continues to rattle, more erratic with every whimpered plea for more from the man in front of you. Turning around, your face melts against the wood while Wonwoo unzips his pants and presents himself.

“You’re so big,” you coo. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at the obvious bait but plays right along. “Yeah? Think you can take it?”

A bang near your head sends you into the air. 

“Let me in!” Jun demands.

His voice is hard. Steeled with a tone you’ve never heard before and it sends a chill down your spine. 

But Wonwoo seems undisturbed as he bends you at the waist. “She’s busy.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jun bites before melting softer. “Y/N, you said I could watch.”

The head of Wonwoo’s cock nestles against your entrance. He waits while you figure out your next move. Wonwoo agreed he’d go along with whatever you decided but the ghost of being split full makes all the choices bleed into one. 

“You’re not even asking right.” You say. “Maybe if you ask like a good boy we’ll let you in.”

“Please? Please let me in. I’ve been good. You said I could watch, baby. Please.���

“I don’t know. What do you think, Woo?”

Glancing over your shoulder, he shrugs. And then Wonwoo spits where his dick rests and rushes inside.

You know Jun hates it. He can feel Wonwoo fuck you into the door, every thrust leaving the wood to groan under the additional weight. If that wasn’t enough he can hear everything too. Your breathy moans, the slap of hips against your body, the sound of your sopping pussy. 

The few times he’s worn a blindfold proved he doesn’t like to be teased; a trail of broken cuffs and other restraints left in his wake. He’d rather be overstimulated until he’s cross eyed and barely breathing than edged. The one time you tried left your ass sore for days from bites and spanks. 

With each ticking second a repeat inches closer. And maybe with Wonwoo in the mix, Jun will be even more possessive. It certainly sounds like it as he grows exasperated in his pleas.

“Shit you’re so wet.” Wonwoo groans. “Bet you wish you could see it. Don’t you?”

“Fuck you.” 

You catch the telltale rasp in his voice too easily. Jun isn’t even trying to pretend. 

Smacking your fist against the door, you fume. “Are you fucking serious?” 

Wonwoo freezes. A trickle of fear he’s over stepped rushes his spine until your ass pushes back into the cradle of his hips. Your reprimand isn't’ for him. It’s for the brat jerking himself off like you don’t own his cock. 

“You didn’t let me in.” Jun teases, moaning boldly.

Jun gets what he wants. The door unlocks and you find him with his pants around his thighs, the tip of his cock shiny as it peeks through his tight fist. He doesn’t even stop the flutter of his wrist when your eyes find his face, ready for whatever punishment you might throw his way.

You step into his space. So close his length digs into the softness of your belly while your hand traces along his neck. Jun isn’t stupid enough to think you’re apologizing but your next words make him shudder.

“You’re gonna regret that.” You bite, teeth digging into his neck to leave a mark. 

Wonwoo’s eyes burn across your body from where he sits on the bed, watching every move. You won’t be bested by Jun while someone else is around to witness so your touches turn possessive; nails raking across his skin, fingers pinching his nipples until he cries for mercy. The beginnings of a bruise blooms across his throat. And Jun’s wrist still never stops. 

“Go sit on the bed.”

A trail of clothes flutters in his wake. About a foot of space sits between him and his roommate. Wonwoo maintains his cocky expression while waves of frustration waft from Jun. But neither speak as you dig through your side table for a bottle of lube. 

You approach where they wait, turning so you back meets Wonwoo’s chest as you sink into his lap. He curls both arms over your stomach and traces your shoulder with his nose. 

“Jun, come here.”

He’s in front of you in a second, cock bobbing right at your chest.

“Wonwoo is gonna fuck me and you’re gonna watch.”

“No.” Jun states.

Even Wonwoo stops at the sudden refusal. “No?”

“I wanna touch you too.”

His fingers twitch at the idea, desperate to feel you on him after being denied the promise to watch.

You hope your idea will calm his disobedience for now. Gazing with soft features, your hand finds his hip and strokes gentle circles into the skin. “But you broke the rules, baby.”

“So did you!”

You circle his cock in your hand, slowly working him just the way he likes until the quake in his legs nearly sends him to the floor. 

“If you don’t cum, then you can fuck me. But if you do, then you don’t get to touch me the rest of the night. Deal?”

He opens his mouth to object but you beat him to the punch.

“Or Wonwoo and I can have fun and you can go sit in the living room until we’re done.”

Maybe it's the way your thumb swipes at his tip, or the dip of your head to lap away the mess. Or it could be how you look at him, hopeful he’ll agree because you’re not done playing with him yet. But it's probably because you leave a gentle peck on his stomach to hide the whispered ‘please’ for his ears only.

“Okay.”

Before you can praise him, Jun pulls you up into a searing kiss. It’s messy and sloppy in the best ways. His tongue licks into your mouth, gliding across yours and lapping away any noise you both make. Not even the discomfort of his nose burrowing into your cheek manages to distract you from the new dynamic. The heat makes your toes curl embarrassingly; like a teenager getting her first kiss with the boy she’s crushed on for months. Maybe it's a closer description than you’d like but you don’t dwell. Just rise on your knees to chase him for more, more, more until you're floating.

And considering how his fingers curl around the arch of your jaw, Jun clearly plans to stay a while.

But it also makes you remember it’s not Jun’s hands at your chest. It’s definitely not Jun’s cock sinking inside you because you still have him leaking in your hand. The image of Wonwoo sitting beneath you, watching as you and Jun dissolve into a matching set of needy desperate messes brings you back down from the clouds.

The bottle of lube enters the playing field again, its contents cold and slimy as you squirt it over your breasts. Wonwoo jostles you in his lap with every stilted grind as he searches for his own pleasure. Roused by the commotion, Jun sits back to see what you have planned. His love for your tits excels beyond casual interests and verges on perversion. A hand raises to help massage the soft skin but he stops short and remembers what you asked. But the drool slipping out the corner of his lips can’t be helped when squeeze them together and the flesh bounces.

He knows you have more up your sleeve than a lewd show although he’d happily empty his load on your chest and watch you rub it into the skin as well. Mark you as his even if Wonwoo gets to dump his spend in your cunt. Jun’s done it before and he’ll get to do it again and again long after Wonwoo’s out the front door.

Hot and wet, the tip of his cock grazes your nipple when you lean forward; both twitching at the contact. Jun steps up and lets himself rest on your sternum, releasing a pained breath while you press your tits together to squeeze him tight. More lube helps the first slide and leaves his pre-cum dappling against the hollow of your throat. 

“Jesus—shit,” he puffs.

Wanting to hear more, you lap at the head of his cock on the next downstroke and are rewarded with your chin glossed in pearly white. 

Wonwoo paws instantly at your ass and hips, refusing to ask for you to dedicate an iota of attention to his blight. Wedged so deep inside you, you nearly rise all the way up on your knees before sinking back down. Every drop leaves you stuffed with two cocks and you can’t help but wonder if more preparation could make you even more full next time. 

“Want you to cum, kitty.” You coo, lips puckered on the next suck.

His head drops back, lip bruised between his teeth. “Can’t.” 

“But I want you to,” you hiccup in a feign of innocence. “You’ve been so good. You deserve it baby.”

Your words are sweet like honey. Jun wants to cave, it's painted so plainly on his face. Eyes screwed tight, lip quivering, hands fisted at his sides while his body wages war with his mind. But one lube slick finger dipping beneath his balls and going for the soft spot just before his ass finishes the battle.

His stomach caves as he cums, rogue without aim. You manage to catch enough on your tongue to satiate your need for him but the rest drips and trails across your face and torso as you continue to bounce on Wonwoo’s cock without so much as a missed breath.

Sweat beads along your back and Wonwoo’s chest suffocates your skin even further. Leaning back, he accommodates your wish and falls to his elbows without missing a beat; feet planted on the floor so he can buck up into you. 

Jun can only stand and watch, the evidence of his failure shinny across your chin, neck, and chest. Rounded eyes brimmed with disappointment meet his own as he falls to his knees to clean up the mess.

He’s breaking the rules again but you honestly can’t care with the way he sucks away his own cum. You’re not too keen on it going to waste so before he can swallow you pull him up, split his lips open with your thumb, and get a taste for yourself. 

Your chest is covered with his mouth again before he rises and spits his haul into your waiting tongue. Jun keeps going. He doesn’t stop until there's nothing left and even then he presents his own tongue for you to spit on when he’s done.

“You’re so nasty,” you pant as he gulps down your present.

Jun focuses on leaving a brand of his teeth below your jaw, grunting when you grab for his limp cock again. He can give you more. He always does.  A final kiss satisfies Jun’s needs before you send him back on his haunches to wait.

Wonwoo barely registers as an afterthought, his presence eclipsed by Jun’s desperation and your eagerness. But he deserves to get what he came for. The quicker the better because you still have unfinished business with your coworker turned fuck buddy.

Slipping from his lap, his cock falls against his stock. Rigid and coated in your arousal, you rush to face him and sink back down.

He sighs at the relief, “finally” before dropping fingers to your clit while the other circles your throat. 

Your back meets the sticky sheets swiftly. Wonwoo presses deep and firm, stretching you to the limit. Jun still sits in the back of your head even if you can’t see him. You know he’s watching and it's enough to make you shy. But there's no room for it as Wonwoo hooks your knees in the dip of his elbows and spreads you wider, no doubt making Jun privy to your wrecked cunt.

“Harder,” you choke.

Wonwoo gets lost in the motions and nearly crushes you into the bed for it. Your fingers find his stagnated ones, brushing them aside to swipe against the raw bundle of nerves.

Teeth tug at your earlobe, biting into the softness as the end breaches over his spine. You retaliate with the sting of your nails down his back, digging harshly when you reach his ass to force him deeper. 

“Fuck, yeah.” He groans, voice breaking. Another harsh press of his hips sends you up the bed from the force. “C-c-cuming. Fuck, I’m cuming.”

Hot rope after hot rope creams your insides as Wonwoo works through his orgasm. You feel something dripping down your slit to your ass and assume he’s stuffed you with more than you can take. 

He pecks your cheek in thanks, signing off with a press of his nose before rolling away and leaving you empty. And the other discussion from the car comes back.

“I can’t believe it was Jun’s idea for me to take you on a date.” Wonwoo snorts.

“Why?”

“Because what guy wants another man taking out his girlfriend.”

You sit in uncomfortable silence, unable to admit the truth. Jun isn’t your boyfriend. And the entire charade tonight doesn’t seem to point that his interests even point remotely in that direction.

“So you and Jun aren’t dating?”

“No.”

“Well this is gonna go great.” Wonwoo quips.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You can’t help but be defensive but before you can get an answer he’s pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant.

The wet of Jun’s lips glide across your ankle, up your shin and over your knee. His hands find the crease and he pushes until your legs dangle over his shoulders. Every touch is devout, an attempt to soak in your presence without the previous interference. One of your palms finds his cheek and Jun is quick to drop a lazy kiss to it before setting to work between your legs. 

He doesn’t rush. If Jun wanted you wailing and twitching he’d have you there already. Instead, slow strokes bring you back to life bit by bit while his hands keep kneading the meat of your thighs and stomach.

Melting under the attention, you don’t even notice Wonwoo begins to rise until he speaks.

“That was fun.”

Neither of you acknowledge him. Too lost in one another, if you focus hard enough you can completely ignore the sound of him collecting his clothes. 

But Jun can’t.

Every shuffle earns a harsh lick against your sensitive clit. He doesn’t stop when your thighs nearly crush his head or your fingers tug at his hair. For the first time, Jun doesn’t listen to your silent instructions at all.

His fingers lack the same timidity as his mouth. Three spear you immediately, curving and scissoring until your vision goes fuzzy at the edges. More of Wonwoo’s cum leaks out and Jun is quick to lap it away and spit it into the bed sheets away from where you lay. 

“Now that’s just insulting.” Wonwoo calls. You find him lent against the door frame, dressed with his arms crossed in front of his chest. 

Jun doesn’t let up. If anything, the sound of his roommate's voice spurs him on. 

You gesture vaguely towards the door with a gasped, “get out,” before you fall back under Jun’s spell.

He focuses on cleaning away any proof Wonwoo was ever there. His fingers soak in your ruined cunt to pull away the excess before his tongue sneaks inside 

“Oh my god— J–Jun.”  You beg, body kicking in a tantrum while tears curl in your eyes.

He offers a hand to hold on your stomach while he continues to prove whatever point he hopes to make in the crux of your thighs. You grip on for dear life, nails leaving crescents on his skin while his thumb brushes against your palm in time with his tongue teasing lower and lower.

“Tell me I’m better.” 

You barely make out the words muffled in your cunt. Immediately you think he’s asking for more praise, the kind he gets when he cums twice within minutes. But you can’t wax poetically about how good he is with the way brands his tongue into your heat. All you can do is moan and whine with gusto and hope it's enough.

Jun rises, face coated in your arousal and eyes lazy. He doesn’t reject your kiss, or the shy way you prod the seam of his lips with your tongue. Tonights different in a million ways and the fact you feel nervous underneath him makes you even more skittish. 

Hips cradling his, Jun slides his cock deep without the usual stretch thanks to the hours of play. Jun anchors your legs wide to watch you take him inch by inch. Curiosity gets the better of you, and your chin dips to see the display as well. Not the first time he’s fucked you raw but the constrate of his skin against your own never grows dull. Trailing your eyes up further, you observe the twitch of his stomach every time you clench around him until Jun crushes you into the sheets.

You're both desperate. Breath puffing into eachothers mouths as you meet in a pathetic kiss. Sweat slicks your belly against his own. Jun covers every inch of your body he can like he wants to melt together and stay that way forever. 

“God, Jun!” You cry. “Shit, shit. G-gonna cum.”

Riled beyond belief, you need to cum. If it’s on his cock, or his fingers, or his face, you don’t care. As long as he’s there to help you through it. 

“I’m better than him, right? You want me more?”

He’s right in your ear, clear as day. Hours of build up freezes and shatters in half a second.

Your legs lock around the smell of his back, slowly his frantic pace until he’s calm enough to take a breath. His embarrassment hides in the curve of your throat. Jun paints apologetic kisses across every stretch of skin he can find while you wait for him to speak. 

“Jun?”

Nose cutting into the soft space under your jaw, he whispers, “I don’t want you to sleep with other people.”

Your gut tugs defensively. How dare he? Wonwoo was Jun’s idea, not yours; his roommate who made one joke about hearing you two fucking into the early hours of the morning. It was Jun who asked to invite him in. But before you can remind him of the fact, he frees his next truth.

“I want it to be just us.”

Hot and cold flash on your skin and a pit the size of an elephant explodes your stomach. There's too much ambiguity in such a statement. Too many what ifs. Considering his cock is still pressed between your legs, you refuse to be hopeful he’s asking for more than exclusive permission to your body.

“Okay.”

He jumps away from his hiding place, face wide with amazement. “Really?”

“Sure,” you swallow. “We won’t fuck anyone else.”

“That isn’t…I want it to be us. Us? You and me?”

“Like dating?”

He nods mutely.

A smile tilts the corners of your mouth, splitting your face ridiculously. You whisper again, “okay.”

Shy smiles and avoidant eyes are out of place giving what you’re doing. Given everything you have done. But you like Jun and he likes you and now you're both nervous because being naked means more now than it did twenty minutes ago.

You forge the courage to kiss him with gossamer drags of your lips over his jaw. He giggles when your breath ghosts over the shell of his ear, folding his head down to his shoulder to stop the maddening sensation and you can’t help but glow from the absurdity.

Pouting playful, you rope him into the fun with a taunt.“Kiss me.”

Jun doesn’t play around the demand. He seals his lips over yours, only interrupted by a grin that turns the connection into teeth from the twin smiles illuminating your faces. 

After the initial giddiness dims, Jun seems to remember he’s still inside you with a cursory thrust. It’s the same way he was fucking you before but now there are feelings and everything has an indecipherable edge.

His mouth avoids the sensitive parts of your chest, focusing on rubbing his lips across your skin and soaking in the feeling rather than soliciting a response. He’s aimless in his pursuits but you enjoy the attention all the same.

A sigh of your name signals his end. But Jun won’t cum a second time. Not while you still haven’t had your first.

Steady on one arm, he sucks his thumb into his mouth before slithering it where you meet. Everything quakes under the pressure, hours of teasing rising to a boil without preamble. Tremors ripple from your sore clit through every muscle. Growing stronger and stronger until you're bucking wildly. 

“Please cum, need it baby.” Jun whimpers, veins raising on his neck from the strain to hold back. “Been so good. I listened! Please, please, please.” 

He’s pathetic. Weak for good pussy and a dom who’ll give him the direction he needs to please. And you’re even more pathetic because you’re cumming on the next whiny breath he releases. 

Jun tries to fuck you through it, but the lewd mix of lube, arousal, and cum proves to hinder rather than help. He slips out and leaves you aching at first, two sets of hands scrambling to slip him back home. In the deep end of bliss, you crave the closeness rather than need it but it doesn’t stop Jun from huffing with frustration.

You grow boneless and pliant through the next strokes, eager to see him make another mess. Nothing feels as good as he does on your skin. Managing two handfuls of ass, you pull him deeper until he cries. 

“Wanna feel you make this pussy yours.” You beg into his shoulder. “Will you do that for me? Fill me with your cum?” 

His response is a raw moan, pathetic at your offer. The flutter of your walls around him unravels the knot of his second release until he’s rushing forward, forcing you down until you can’t breathe while he ruts every drop of his spend as deep as possible. 

You already know what he plans to do when he attempts to slip out. He's a freak in the most predictable ways. But a ghost of your foot along the sensitive back of his thigh and a coo for his return quell the hunger for further depravity. 

Relishing in the silence, you both find places to stroke and explore. The calloused pad of Jun’s thumb follows the bow of your lips, swirling across the sensitive skin with an occasional pause; only to start again when you bestow a gentle kiss. 

“Can we sleep on the couch? It’s fucking nasty in here.”

Scoffing, you force him out of your chest with a palm to his forehead. “I’m sorry, who was the one spitting cum earlier?”

“Shut up.” Jun pouts, kissing his point across.

Dozing on the couch, Jun lights the pre-roll from his overnight bag. A few puffs are all it takes to melt the lingering jitters from his confession. Somehow this Jun, cozy in his sweats with damp hair and a lazy grin, is more imposing than the one who left the mess still staining your panties. But he doesn’t let you stay at the far end of the couch for long. Planted between long legs, back to his chest while his fingers tangle together on your stomach, you find it all feels right.

@tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @horanghaezone

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[ghostbeam]

can you feel my heart beating like a hammer? | Dabi/Touya Todoroki

You watch from your spot, shoulders tense as you anticipate the arrival of yet another creepy clown or zombie when you see him.

He’s not like the other actors. He’s not quick with his movements and doesn’t yell or jump at anyone. His terror lies in the fact that he does none of those things, that he stands across from you and stares.

And then he grins.

Your stomach turns but not in fear.

Notes: hiiiiii so this is my scare actor!dabi fic. It’s my halloween/October fic for the month!! I’ve been working on this for a while and I’ve finally finished only five days before halloween lmao. Wanna thank mari for calling me after class that day where we had the same exact thought of this at the same time and I had to pull over to put it in my notes (and also for thinking of this title cause I was struggling) anyways I hope you enjoy!!! thanks for reading!! (Title from help I'm alive by metric) listen to the playlist here!

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, f!reader, explicit content, scare actor!dabi, Dabi is touya (quite literally he is not called Dabi in this at all ajhssjsjjss), sex in public, fearplay (kind of), multiple orgasms, overstimulation (very brief), oral f!receiving, fingering, multiple instances where Dabi rests his hand on ur neck but never chokes u, biting (shoulder, neck), ‘baby’ and ‘angel’ as pet names, use of ‘good girl’, frightening (debatable im not that good) depictions of scare actors and haunts, one description of gory makeup, fake weapons

Words: 5k

You’re scared, terrified actually, and your friends are nowhere in sight.

You’re cold. You’re hungry. A clown with a chainsaw won’t stop following you around, and you just want to go home. 

When you were invited to the local haunted house, your first instinct was to say no. You’d always been afraid of these things, anything with jumpscares, anything not contained in the screen of your television, you decided wasn’t for you. But your friends insisted and explained that the local haunt wouldn’t be anything like any of those expensive theme parks with big productions and highly trained actors. 

But if you were being honest with yourself, it all felt the same to you. It was maybe a little creepier, out in a field in the middle of nowhere, the closest business a couple of miles away, and no background checks for the actors. Uneasiness washed over you the moment you stepped through the wooden gates.

And now you’re alone.

Scare actors are coming at you left and right, all dressed in dark makeup or clown outfits or fake blood, each with their very own faux weapon used for getting just close enough to you without touching. They’re targeting you because you’re scared, you realize because you scream and clutch your head and run in all different directions when they come at you. 

It’s quite the production for a local haunt. It’s eerie, smoke machines pour fog throughout, and music that ranges from creepy carnival tunes to popular horror movie scores blare through worn-out speakers, which add to the effect. The actors are painted with precision or covered in liquid latex and black blood that oozes from fake wounds. You feel like you’re in a horror movie. You might be in one, for all you know, which is what scares you the most

You finally find a moment to calm yourself down, seeking a single moment of peace against a makeshift wall on the outside of a haunted house. 

You take a moment to look around you, out over the sea of people and costumes. You observe the way the actors jump at the attendees, throwing themselves forward or making loud noises, dragging and tapping their fake weapons against the ground. It’s complete chaos, and you thought that seeing it from the sidelines would make it less terrifying for you, but it doesn’t. You don’t want to be here. 

You watch from your spot, shoulders tense as you anticipate the arrival of yet another creepy clown or zombie when you see him. 

He’s not like the other actors. He’s not quick with his movements and doesn’t yell or jump at anyone. His terror lies in the fact that he does none of those things, that he stands across from you and stares.

And then he grins.

Your stomach turns but not in fear. 

He’s not scary, just strange, and oddly handsome too, you think. You don’t smile back, but you keep your eyes on him. You aren’t sure if his smile is part of his act or if he means it. Somehow, both make you uneasy. 

He’s slow as he moves towards you, calculated. His eyes rake up and down your body as he approaches. As he comes closer, you can finally get a good look at his face, smudged with paint over scars that fall underneath both eyes and line his jaw. What looks to be like staples sit in the seam between the marked and unmarked skin, and you can’t tell if they’re part of the costume or if he wears the piercings when he’s not working. You kind of hope he does.

He looms over you, close enough that you can smell a mixture of sweat and cologne on his skin, but not enough to touch you. You think you want him to, though. His eyes are a brilliant blue, almost glowing against the night. 

He’s beautiful. You can tell even hidden under the face paint. His costume is stitched together with yarn at the seams of his shoulders, silver staples that imitate the piercings on his face scatter the stitches. His coat is long and reaches the middle of his calves, and a loose white shirt drapes over his chest. His dark jeans wear the same stitches as his coat, and his dark boots are big, the sound of the soles against the pavement is loud as he steps even closer to you. 

Touya’s never had any particular interest in any of the attendees of the haunt before. Sure, he’s taken girls home who’d bravely slipped their numbers into his pocket or caught him when his shift was over, but no one had ever caught his eye quite like you. 

He’d seen you cowering before his coworkers, running away and screaming, not unlike many of the people around you. But he had noticed you.

And now you’re standing not even an inch away from him, staring up at him with wide eyes and trembling so hard he can almost feel you. You’re adorable. He wants to see you like this underneath him with your back arched, pretty lips parted for him, just for him. 

Your moment is interrupted by the revving of a chainsaw and the dragging of metal against pavement as yet another clown laughs loudly in your ear. You jump, unconsciously moving forward, finding yourself in the arms of the patchwork man you’d been so captivated by. You squeak out a small sorry, but he says nothing, smirking down at you.

Dabi’s heart leaps in his chest. He wants to steal you away, pull you into one of the haunts, and fuck you behind one of the walls. No one would suspect a thing if he covered you in enough fake blood to pass as one of them, making you scream in pleasure against the screams of fear. 

His eyes flicker to your lips before he lowers his hands to your waist, squeezing tightly before backing away from you and leaving you alone without a word. 

…

After another half an hour of running from scare actors and looking for your friends, you finally find them near a food stand, unassuming and completely unaware you’d disappeared.

You sprint towards them, getting good at dodging anyone jumping at you after all of that time alone. Your best friend spots you first, her eyes widening as she walks towards you.

“Where the fuck did you go?” She questions with a drink in one hand that flashes different colors from the plastic light-up ice in the liquid. 

“You guys left me!” You exclaim, “I’ve been dodging those fuckers for an hour alone!”

“We thought you were with us. I promise! We went in that one haunt with the possession scene and when we came out you were gone!” She explains, but you can’t help but feel a little annoyed. You didn’t even want to come out tonight. You’d only said yes because she begged. 

“Did you look for me?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Look,” She begins, “Everything is so chaotic here. Everyone was moving on to the next house! I figured you’d catch up!”

“You suck.” You pout.

“I know I do. I’m sorry!” She pleads. “I’ll buy you something to eat. C’mon.”

She buys your meal and leads you to some of the wooden picnic tables in the small area, the rest of your friends already occupying some of the space. You’re treated warmly as they all throw questions at you about where you went. You resist the urge to act upset or make a scene, explaining that you’d been running around and looking for them while trying to avoid fake chainsaws and machetes. You’re in the middle of telling a story about getting caught in a corner with one of the zombies when your friends start to erupt in a fit of giggles. You pause your story, confused at their sudden reaction when you feel someone blow at your neck.

It only surprises you, all the fear expelled from your body in your hour of terror. You turn to look at the source and there he is again, the patchwork man from earlier. You’re not scared of him, this time, only intrigued. 

He hovers over you, moving and contorting his neck in a way that you assume is meant to be creepy, but it does nothing but amuse you. 

You smile and let out a small laugh, looking up at him through your lashes. Dabi feels his jeans tighten at the way you look up at him, eyebrows pulled up in a pout, leaning closer as he grins. 

“Are you ever gonna tell me your name?” You ask him, eyes flickering to his lips for a moment. He shakes his head slowly, maintaining eye contact while holding a finger to his mismatched lips. You give him yours, but he only stares. You’re once again pulled in by the blue in his eyes, finding yourself wondering if they’re a different shade than the last time you saw him. “Not even if I beg?”

He’ll punish you for that later, Dabi thinks. 

You watch him reach behind his back, still bent over towards your face, readying yourself for what you think might be the fake machete he carried before.

He pulls a single yellow daisy from behind him, clutching it between two fingers as he holds it out to you. You know he must have picked it from one of the patches of green that scatter the field. Your friends giggle some more, whispering things you're unable to focus on at the moment. You look between his painted face and the flower, reaching out to take it from him.

Suddenly feeling bashful, you lean away from him, smelling the flower and twirling it between your fingers. The smile he gives you is genuine.

He leans closer to you, bringing a finger up to his cheek and tapping twice to signal something. He wants a kiss, you realize. It’s against the rules, and he knows this. Scare actors are not meant to touch the guests, and doing so could get them into a lot of trouble. But Touya wants to touch you. He remembers the feeling of you pressed against him when you’d jumped in fear of the clown from earlier. He’d broken the rule then, and he had no problem with breaking it again.

If not for your friends' excited squeals around you, you’re sure you would have frozen. You push yourself forward, placing a kiss to his cheek before you can talk yourself out of it. He smiles wide as you pull away, that creepy grin still on his face as he stares down at you. 

When he stands up, he begins to back away slowly without a word. You watch him walk, clutching a fist over his heart and giving you a giddy smile as he leaves. 

You feel disheartened knowing you might not see him again tonight. You place the flower behind your ear and take your eyes off where he disappeared. 

…

You and your friends stay until closing. As the night goes on, you find yourself getting used to the fear. You think you like it now, adrenaline running through your body as you're chased with chainsaws or reached for through windows inside of the haunts. It’s exhilarating. You understand why people like these so much.

Scare actors are practically chasing people out, running at them with their weapons until they make it through the gates. It’s complete mayhem, especially with the number of people now pushed to the front of the area. 

Amidst the chaos, you find yourself alone again. You search the crowd, avoiding the actors jumping toward you as you make your way through the sea of people. You push through different groups of people until you make it to a small open spot amidst the crowd. It’s there that you see the man from before, jumping at different people who walk by him. He drags his fake machete against the floor and it scrapes with a metallic grinding sound. He’s terrifying, you think. Not to you, but to anyone around him, he must be terrifying. 

He’s tall and imposing, completely silent as he pushes his weapon toward anyone he can reach. He’s fast, too, running up on different people, the sound of his big black boots is loud against the pavement.

You can’t move. You can only stare at him, completely in his element. He’s good at what he does, better and far more intimidating than any of the other actors you’ve encountered tonight. But somehow, you aren’t scared at all, not of him and not in any real way. Maybe you should be, though. 

He turns around, looking around as he walks from his last set of victims before his eyes find you. A smile crosses his face and he lifts a hand, wagging his fingers to wave at you. You avert your eyes in embarrassment that he caught you, even in the crowd of people. 

He stalks towards you, dragging his weapon behind him. He’s menacing, and you can’t help but feel a little afraid of him, wondering if he’ll jump towards you or do something to scare you all over again. When he approaches, you watch him smirk from under his makeup, close enough to see the texture of his skin and the blue of his eyes. He runs a finger down your arm until he reaches your hand, intertwining your fingers and pulling you along with him. 

You know you shouldn’t follow him. This is how people go missing, how people are found in a ditch with their friends crying on the news about how they were just with them. 

But you can’t bring yourself to care. You find him endlessly fascinating, from the way he moves to his dark demeanor. He’s strange and unsettling, but you like it. You want strange and unsettling, contrary to your feelings earlier in the night. 

Dabi can feel your hand trembling in his. He rubs soothing circles with his thumb over the top of your hand. He doesn’t want you to be too afraid of him. He wants you to like him. He’s almost embarrassed by it, seeking the approval of a random girl who visited the haunt. When he looks back at you, your eyes are wide, mouth agape as you let him pull you through the crowd of people. You look at him with curiosity and intrigue more than fear. Dabi feels his heart beat faster in his chest.

He pulls you to one of the haunts, one you went through earlier with a zombie rock band, a ridiculous theme that you remember scaring you the least. Guitar blares through the speakers as you enter, moving the curtains back that cover each entrance. You realize that the place is empty, with no scare actors ready to jump out, no one on the sets or acting out any of the scenes you remember. It’s just the two of you now. 

You feel his arm curl around your waist as he pulls you behind one of the openings in the walls. It’s one of the spaces that the scare actors use to hide in before jumping out at the guests. It’s surprisingly spacious, and there’s a door that must lead outside of the structure or into another room. You don’t have time to ponder it before you’re pushed up against one of the walls, his hands squeezing your hips as he looks down at you with hungry eyes. 

“I’ve wanted to touch you like this all night long. You were so fucking scared.” He speaks, lowering his head to the crook of your neck, and you almost gasp at the sound of his voice. It’s rough, gravelly. It vibrates against your body where he brushes his lips against you. “It was so cute.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling him grin against your skin before licking over your pulse point. You moan, the sound almost swallowed up by the loud eerie rock music reverberating in the makeshift building. Dabi wants to make you louder. He wants you to scream.

“Are you—hah—gonna tell me your name?” You ask him as he continues to kiss your neck. His hands are all over you, squeezing the flesh of your hips, running his hands over your thighs and your arms, hands underneath your sweater, up your skirt. You can’t focus on anything but his hands and his mouth and his hard body pressed up against yours. You almost want him closer, if that’s even possible, tangling your fingers into his hair and arching your body into his. 

You’re sure your neck must be covered in smudgy face paint. His mouth is probably a muddy mess, or maybe all of the paint is gone, but you don’t care. His lips feel good on your skin. He feels good. 

It barely registers that he ignores your question. “What? You’re back to not speaking?”

He’s silent, once again, pulling away from your neck to smile down at you. You were right, the paint is almost completely gone from the bottom half of his face, leaving behind the sight of scars in contrast to the unmarked skin on his cheeks. You’re panting, looking into his eyes as he reveals nothing. He leans forward to kiss you, catching you by surprise even though he was sucking on your neck just moments ago. The kiss is short, with barely enough time to feel his tongue against yours before he pulls away. 

“So mysterious.” You quip, trying to save yourself from the embarrassment of being affected by one kiss. He pulls his long coat from his shoulders to reveal surprisingly muscular arms covered in the same scars and piercings that litter his face. He continues with his vow of silence as he starts to lower himself before you, placing kisses against your chest and your stomach as he falls to his knees. His hands sneak up your skirt. “Oh, fuck.”

He raises the front of your skirt, moving one of your hands to hold it against your stomach. He runs his hands up the front of your thighs, looking up at you through thick lashes, spreading your legs even further apart. He brings a hand forward, pressing the pad of his thumb against your clothed cunt. He gives you a look, and he doesn’t need to speak for you to know what he’s thinking, for you to be embarrassed by how wet you are from just a little groping. 

He moves his hand and leans forward, pulling you by your hips and burying his face in between your legs. You feel his tongue through your underwear, gasping at the feeling, simultaneously too much and not enough. You bury your free hand in his hair as he licks you through the layer of fabric. Your panties are thoroughly ruined, your inner thighs sticky with your slick. He groans against you, tasting what little of you he can through the barrier. He pulls away and rips them from your thighs, wasting no time before he’s in between your legs once more. 

“God!” It’s not his name, but it’ll do. “Fuck, right there!”

He laps at your entrance, completely lost in making you feel good. Every moan he pulls from you only spurs him on, tonguing your cunt like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. He thinks that maybe it is. 

You buck your hips against his face, fingers curling into the fabric of your skirt and pulling at his hair as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to your orgasm. He runs one hand up your thigh, pulling away for a moment to slip a finger inside of you. He groans at how much of a mess you’ve become, how much of a mess he’s made you. He adds another finger, watching how easily they slide in and out of you. He looks up at you, silently asking if it’s something you like, and the moan you let out tells him that it is. You nod at him, moving your hips while he moves his fingers in and out of you. 

“Please!” You whine, missing the feeling of his tongue on you. “Need more!”

He slows the movements of his fingers down, pulling another unsatisfied groan from your throat. It’s cute how impatient you are, how he’s reduced you to such a hungry little thing, all for him.

He moves one hand behind your knee, hiking your leg over one of his shoulders and earning a surprised gasp from your lips. His tongue finds your clit again, running tight circles around you as his fingers speed up. 

You grind against his face, closer to the edge than before, moaning at the sensation of his mouth against your entrance. He curls his fingers inside of you and licks over your clit, his motions repetitive and focused as he feels you clench around his fingers. You’re close, and he can feel it, and it’s taking everything in him not to beg you to come for him.

“I’m gonna—” a strangled cry escapes your throat as he brings you to the edge. He slows his movements down as you ride out your orgasm, thrusting his fingers slowly and licking languid strokes over your clit. Hips spamming against him, you have to push his head away from your sex, breathing heavily and running your fingers through the hair falling in his eyes. He’s gorgeous when he looks up at you through a glistening grin. He rises from the ground, bringing the two fingers, now covered in your slick, towards his mouth. You whimper as you watch him wrap his own lips around the two digits, his eyes never leaving yours. He releases them with a sticky pop, surging forwards to capture your lips with his. 

It’s better than the one before, longer, slower. You can taste yourself on his tongue. He slots his body against yours as he deepens the kiss, and you can feel him hard against your thigh. His hands run up your sides, over your breasts up to your sternum. He rests one hand against the front of your neck, gently and not squeezing, just to keep you there against him. He slips his tongue into your mouth while his other hand sneaks up the back of your sweater. He has your bra off before you have any time to think, and then he runs his fingers over your nipples. 

He’s much gentler than you thought he’d be, especially under the circumstances. He has you pressed up against a wall in public. You’re someone he’s only just met, and you know you must not be the first person he’s done this with. 

But he kisses you like he loves you. 

And maybe it’s the adrenaline or the raucous music preventing you from thinking clearly, but you think that maybe he could. Maybe you want him too. 

God, you’re crazy. 

He sucks your tongue into his mouth again and you tug at the strands of hair at the back of his head. Your movements become more frantic as you push your bodies closer together. Twitching hands find the front of his jeans, thumbing the button open and stroking your hand over him. He groans into your mouth, a faint curse as he pushes his hips forward. He bites your lip hard before pulling away from you, pulling a shiny square package from his pocket and releasing himself from the constraint of his underwear. He tears it open with his teeth and rolls the condom on, reaching down to hike your leg back up like it had been before. With one strong hand holding you up from behind your knee, he drags the head of his cock through your folds, pulling another moan from you that you try to suppress in the crook of his neck. 

His lips find yours once more, swallowing the sounds you make as he sinks into you. You arch your back, pushing yourself closer as he stretches you. The stretch is almost too much, even with the mess he’s made of you, but you feel good, full, complete.

He starts slow, long drawn-out thrusts of his hips that drive you crazy. He touches you everywhere, squeezing anywhere he can get his hands on, sucking on your neck, your chest. He kisses over your face, sweet pecks of his lips to your jaw and cheeks. It’s overwhelming, the attention he gives you, the need to put your pleasure before his, to make you feel wanted. You are wanted. 

He’s getting desperate now, speeding up as he moves against you. He reaches so deep, keeping your leg hiked up with your back against the wall. You aren’t gonna last much longer, not with his tongue in your mouth, not with the sound of his own whines meeting your ears as he quickens his thrusts. 

“Please—” You beg, digging your fingers into his hips. You’re so close, clenching around him so tightly he can barely think. His eyes find yours as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to your release, neon blue clouding your vision before you throw your head back against the wall behind you. Pleasure wracks through your body as he pulls you even closer. You fall limp in his arms, feeling him release your leg and pull out of you. You rest your forehead against his as you calm your breathing.

“Think you can give me one more?” The rare sound of his voice startles you. His hand finds the back of your head, pulling away to look into your eyes. Dazed, you nod at him, watching him smile down at you. “Good girl.”

He kisses your cheek, and you let him spin you around to face the wall. You brace yourself against it, two hands flat on the surface as you feel him behind you. He places sloppy kisses against your neck, slowly entering you once more. You gasp, still sensitive from before, but he shushes you, nibbling on your earlobe as he moves in and out of you. 

“Your—hah—your name.” You whine, barely getting the words out as he quickens his pace. He groans behind you, leaning forward to bite your shoulder, thrusting in quick short motions against you. “Please! Fuck! Wanna—”

“You wanna what, baby?” He breathes against your ear. He places a kiss beneath it, peppering more down your neck as he slows down. 

“Don’t! Please don’t slow down.” You beg, pushing yourself against him. 

He leans his large frame against your back, bringing an arm around the front of your chest, resting his hand at the base of your neck. He pulls your back against him, lips brushing against your ear. “Tell me what you want.”

“Wanna—ngh—scream it.” You pant, feeling his thrusts speed up at your admission. “Wanna scream your name.”

“‘Course you do, angel.” He coos, running a hand down the front of your body until it slips up your skirt. You feel his fingers against your clit and gasp, twitching from the sensitivity. It’s too much. You want more. “Call me Touya.”

“Touya!” You cry, letting your head fall back against his shoulder. Touya, Touya, Touya. It sounds perfect falling from your lips. You were meant to say it, meant to scream it just like this. “Wanna come. Make me come, Touya.”

He buries his face into your neck, biting down hard as he speeds up the movements of his hips and his fingers on your clit. You scream, just how he’s wanted you to all night, the feeling of pain and pleasure leaving you dizzy. 

“Gonna—” You choke, moaning his name once again. He groans against your skin.

“I know, baby, me too.” His thrusts become sloppier, feeling himself approach the edge, but not before you. You scream his name one last time, reaching your high just moments before him. He cries out after, pulling your face towards his to kiss you deeply once more. 

Realizing where you are, music still playing loudly through the speakers, your body up against a rough wooden wall, and Touya’s tongue in your mouth, you force yourself to pull away. He moves away from you, taking a moment to discard the condom and pick up your ruined underwear from the ground. You lay your head against the wall, throwing your arm over your eyes and laughing at the absurdity of the situation. 

You think about the feeling of dread from the beginning of the night, how quickly you ran from the men in masks and makeup, the fake chainsaws and knives. And now you’d been fucked by one, one you’d learned the name of just seconds ago. 

When Touya returns, you’ve fixed yourself, putting your bra back on and pulling your skirt down, though you’re still without underwear. He walks towards you, cupping your face with one large hand and looking down at you.

“You okay?” He questions, genuine concern in his cyan gaze. You give him a shy smile and nod. He narrows his eyes before giving you a sly smile. “I need verbal confirmation.”

“I’m okay, Touya.” You tell him, wrapping your hand around his wrist and resting it there. 

“Fuck,” he speaks, “say it again.”

“You should’ve told me sooner.” You say, ignoring the command. He rolls his eyes, kissing your forehead before pulling away. He takes your hand in his and opens the door beside you.

“C’mon let’s get you cleaned up, then I’ll take you home.” He leads you through the door, down a labyrinth of alleys all connected by the various haunts. He looks back at you and shrugs sheepishly. “Sorry. Your friends are probably gone.”

“Probably.” You don’t care, but you should. And you shouldn’t let him take you home. You shouldn’t let him touch your face gently or take you to one of the twenty-four-hour diners nearby after you leave. You shouldn’t give him your number. You shouldn’t let him take you out once, twice, three times. You shouldn’t let him sneak you into a different haunt the next time you visit him at work.

You do anyway. 

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for a Fic...

~*~

1. Hi! Do you know any Lan Sizhui/ A’yuan POV fics??

black irises in the sunshine by doodlebutt (G, 2k, LSZ & LWJ, angst, grief/mourning)

❤️ nevermore, nevermore by agloeian (T, 120k, lan sizhui & everyone, wangxian, canon divergence, time travel fix-it, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst w/ happy ending)

as i stumble homewards by the_pretzel (T, 27k, wangxian, canonical character death, found family, food issues, trauma, LSZ pov, angst w/ happy ending, fluff)

Not Yet (There As Needed) by sunrise_and_death (T, 13k, wangxian, WWX & LSZ, LSZ & JL, post-canon, family bonding, dramatic revelations)  

to make an arbitrary wager by moonsteps (G, 9k, Junior Quartet, JL & LSZ, WangXian, Post Canon, Junior Quartet Dynamics, Friendship, sizhui and the mortifying ordeal of being the gusu lan heir)

to the act of making noise by words-writ-in-starlight (Gunmetal_Crown) (G, 19k, LSZ & WWX & LWJ, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Father-Son Relationship, inquiry, Music, Angst, Fluff, Found Family, mostly CQL verse)

remember the moments when we were together by RoseThorne (T, 2k, LSZ & WWX, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Memories, Depressio, nImplied/Referenced Suicide, wwx needs a hug, Regret, Self-Esteem Issues, Loneliness, Crying, Hugs, Truth, Post-Canon, PTSD, Father-Son Relationship, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, CQL-centric, POV LSZ)

Would You Come Home? by s6115 (Not rated, 46k, WangXian, Junior Quartet Centric, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, Junior Quartet Dynamics)

🧡the stone-filled sea by yukla (T, 9k, WangXian, LSZ & WWX, Post-Canon, senior wei defense squad, a study of the way prejudice and injustice and anger trickle down from generation to generation)

❤️Symmetry by Vir_Abelasan (M, 13k, LSZ & WWX, wangxian, mind the tags just in case)

keeping score by hauntedotamatone (T, 6k, LSZ & WWX, Background WangXian, the opposite of reconciliation, Protective WWX, Duelling Grief/Mourning, not for jc fans, Swordfighting, Resentment, LSZ centric, No JC & WWX Reconciliation) 

coming of age, coming alive by narie (T, 25k, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & WWX, wangxian, LSZ & WQ, canon compliant, found family, coming of age)

Path by Jengabears (G, 4k, grief/mourning, soul-searching, repressed memories, burial mounds, good uncle WN, LSZ centric, dead WWX, angst, sad w/ happy ending, comfort)

In all these shades of blue (I think we found you) by Fleetling (T, 5k, wangxian, LWJ & LSZ & WWX, 5+1, LSZ pov, childhood, growing up)

although my mind is young, it is not gentle by everythingispoetry ( T, 27k, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Disability, Parenthood, Growing Up, Family Dynamics, Character Study, Self-Discovery) 

The Sound of Love by  mondengel (Not rated, <1k, wangxian, LWJ & LSZ & WWX, fluff, everyone lives au)

Decorating by Quiet_crash (G, 1k, LSZ & LWJ, LSZ & LXC, LSZ & LJY, Rabbits, Fluff) A-Yuan decides that the bunnies need Lan ribbons

A-Yuan in Bunnyland by Aki_no_hikari (G, 3k, LSZ & LWJ, Fluff, Action/Adventure) A-Yuan dreams—or does he?—of falling down a rabbit hole and stumbling upon a whole parallel Sect of Gusu Buns

Crayon Time with Sizhui Series by treemaidengeek (G, 272, LSZ & LWJ, Fluff, Angst, Family Feels, Canon Compliant, Grief/Mourning, Actual Child Narrator, Actual Crayon Drawings, Bunnies) crayon cartoons by 7½-year-old LSZ 

Anticipation by Quiet_crash (G, 2k, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & LWJ, WangXian) Chenqing and LSZ’s recovery of his Burial Mounds memories, from his POV

history by tongzhi (T, 15k, Background WangXian, LSZ-Centric, Post-Canon, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Character Study)

~*~

2. Hi! For the next fic-mood: I just saw on Twitter a very beautiful WangXian fanart in RomeoJuliet AU, and thought there must be someone already wrote a fic for this trope right?? Right?? 😁 Thank you all in advance 🙂🙏🏻 ❤️ Have a nice day! @yellowridge

Star crossed by ToeGod (T, 5k, WIP, WangXian, Romance, Star-crossed, Romeo and Juliet Fusion, Angst, Fluff)

~*~

3. Haii! Im in the mood for some MXY with WX fics. Not romantically. I recently read one where they adopted him. Any amount of words and only restriction is not to have MXY romantically involved with WX. Thank you!

Dream a little dream of me by Moominmammashandbag (M, 60k, wangxian, dream cultivation)

💖 Mo XuanYu’s Bewildering Re-Start by MarbleGlove (T, 9k, MXY & WWX, WQ & WWX, wangxian, time travel fix-it, suicide attempt, unreliable narrator)

Moonlit by Aki_no_hikari (T, 8k, wangxian, yiling wei sect au, fluff, battle couple, teacher WWX, canon typical violence)

~*~

4. Hi 👋 for the next im in the mood for post, can you please recommend some good possessive wwx fics.

Barefoot Runaway by Itszero (E, 18k, WangXian, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha WWX, Omega LWJ, Sex Pollen, No Sunshot Campaign, Mpreg, Possessive WWX, Protective WWX, No War AU, Bottom LWJ)

Strange Magic by Sabinasan (T, 18k, WangXian, Cursed WWX, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Cuddling & Snuggling, Possessive WWX, Protective WWX, Sharing a Bed, Sharing Clothes, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Hair Brushing)

~*~

5. Hello mods! Can you reccomend me some good wangxian celebrity au s for the next in the mood for post? Thank you😊

always on my mind series by sami (E, 37k, wangxian, LWJ/others, LWJ & JYL, modern, family, sexual tension, grief, superstar musician LWJ, fluff, children, pregnancy, parenthood)

💖Pop and Prejudice by flowerofgusu (E, 25k, wangxian, modern, famous popstar WWX, music critic LWJ, misunderstandings, pining, falling in love, slow burn, fluff & angst, smut, hurt/comfort)

🧡I Don’t Want to Debut! by countingcr0ws (G, 56k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reality show, Idols, Actor LWJ, Forced Contestant WWX) 

Some of You by tangerinechar (M, 60k, wangxian, JC/LXC, JYL/JZX, modern, social media, actor au, pining, fluff, love confessions, matchmaking, light angst)

how to put the entire world in complete chaos, a guide by lan wangji by lanergeges (G, <1k, wangxian, modern, outsider pov, actors, tabloid, fluff, established relationship)

He is Wei Wuxian’s by devinokaze (T, 41k, wangxian, modern, celebrity au, actor WWX, singer/dancer LWJ, social media, entertainment industry, outsider pov, fluff & humor)

life, drama and action by Akai__hana (G; 13k, wangxian, modern, actor au, singer LWJ, actor WWX, social media, fluff & crack, established relationship)

Firework by Aki_no_hikari (G, 4k, wangxian, modern, idols au, bookstore, meet-cute)

live from new york by varnes (E, 87k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, This is a SNL AU, however the juniors are featured and there are lots of shenanigans!, slow burn, friends to lovers, pining, getting together, happy ending)

~*~

6. Can I get some Recs for fics that A) have someone bringing up Lan Qiren’s hypocrisy for the rules? holding grudges, judging someone…etc.. B) Also fics where wangxian get together as teens? Either canon era or modern is fine.

6A)

save a sword, ride a socialist by sysrae (E, 33k, WangXian, Modern with Magic AU, College AU, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Single Parent WWX, Homophobia, LQR's A+ Parenting, Angst with a Happy Endin, gidiots to lovers, car seats as an expression of love, literal plot bunnies, Fluff)

found in translation by sysrae (E, 12k, NieLan, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Modern Cultivators, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, my extremely justified hatred of LQR, Meddling brothers, Coming Out, Loss of Virginity, Under-negotiated Kink, slight breathplay, Light Dom/sub, Aftercare, Angst with a Happy Ending) These are modern AUs. For canon, just a heads up there is a Lan Qiren Bashing tag/Bad Parent Lan Qiren tag and Lan Sect Bashing tag that the requestor may want to check?

6B)

Straight at the Sun by diamondbruise (E, 33k, WangXian, Canon Universe, no war though, Mutual Pining, Pining while fucking, Misunderstandings, First Time, Anal Sex, Miscommunication, Jealousy, Happy Ending)

Three changes. by orange_crushed (M, 18k, WangXian, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Cloud Recesses Study days, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Friends to Lovers, Romantic Comedy, Kissing, Fade to Black, Mild Sexual Content, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot No War AU, Falling In Love, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Blood, First Time)

Epistolary by beeswaxing (T, 7k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Different First Meeting, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Epistolary, Pre-Canon)

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7. yo know any good crack treated seriously fics

(All previous recs for this ask have been moved to the Crack Treated Seriously Compilation post, all future recs will be moved there too ^^ - Mod C)

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8. hi! first i just wanna say thank yall so much for running this, ive found so many great fics bc of yall!

A) ive been trying to find fics where wwx tells others not to use resentful energy and kinda accidentally snitches on himself in the process? or where hes just like "resentful energy is bad for you. not me tho im lacking a golden core built different"

B) also any fics where resentful energy actually makes wwx stronger (or where it can heal and that kinda thing) or where hes a ghost/undead and just passing as human are appreciated lol (ive read through most of the ghost!wwx tag on ao3, but i know not everything gets tagged so i figured it was worth asking?)

any ideas? and again, tysm and have a nice day!

8B)

Fated Series by LtLJ (G, 31k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Post-Apocalypse, Magical Apocalypse, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Canon Diverted via Volcano, YL WWX, Badass LWJ)

death either way by thelastdboy (E, 22k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, POV Alternating, Fix-It of Sorts, Burial Mounds Ensemble as Family, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Grief/Mourning, Not Really Character Death, But it's presumed, Protective Siblings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Injury Recovery, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Survivor Guilt, Scheming, Rumors, Cultivation Sect Politics, demonic cultivator WQ, Revenge, Found Family)

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9. Would love recs of any fics where the Jiang shidi that got kidnapped by the Wen while practicing archery before the fall of Lotus Pier, lives. Maybe Lotus Pier falls, maybe it doesn't. Maybe he escapes, or is ransomed, or rescued. Maybe they find him during Sunshot forced to act as a servant in a Wen war camp. Maybe they find him in a Wen prison after the war. Maybe a kind Wen smuggles him out. Etc. But the littlest Jiang shidi lives.

Sun Stained Lotus by MidnightLightHowlite (T, 70k, wangxian, YZY&WWX, good parent YZY, angst w/ happy ending, fluff, miscommunication) It's not a main focus of the fic, but for 9 the littlest shidi does survive

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10. Hi. Any recs on Mo Xuanyu-centric or Nie brothers-centric. I am on a kick on these side characters lately @umefurikake

NIE:

The Quiet Room by nirejseki (T, 38k, NMJ/LXC, JGY/LXC, NHS & NJM, LWJ & NMJ, sensory deprivation, partner betrayal, consent issues, manipulation, medical trauma, not LXC friendly, infidelity, gaslighting, mental health issues, willful blindness)

Emotional Support by nirejseki (G, 2k, NMJ & NHS, fix-it)

Once Upon A Time in Qinghe by paranoid_fridge (T, 22k, NMJ & NHS, NMJ & LXC, wangxian, post-canon fix-it, angst, humor)

MXY:

falling like feathers and cherry blossoms by silversshadow (T, 10k, MXY/XY, WWX & XY, WWX & MXY, canon divergence, reincarnation au)

Check #3 of this same post also

Pocketful of Soul by Jenrose (T, 87k, WIP, WangXian, Travel Fix-It, Time Loop, Canon Divergence, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, eventually, Bamf MXY, MXY Lives, Genderfluid MXY, MXY Backstory, POV MXY, Canon-Typical Self-Sacrificial Behavior, Found Family, ace MXY, Aegosexual NHS, Genius MXY Genius WWX, Not particularly JGY friendly CQL-based)

born under unlucky stars by RoseThorne (M, 1k, JZX & MXY, JZX & QS, WN & WQ, WWX & WQ, WangXian, Canonical Character Death, Ghosts, Souls, Implied/Referenced Sex, Brotherly Love, Anger, Spells & Enchantments, MXY Deserves Better, Revenge, POV MXY)

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11. Thank you so much for all your hard work!! I'm in the mood for a fic where WWX fully uses his demonic cultivation where the juniors can see. He never really shows them how destructive he can be and I bet at least part of him doesn't want to Bonus points for angst. Thank you!! @kirk-spock-in-the-impala​

green flame, black flute, red ribbon by Fleetling (T, 3k, pre-wangxian, LJY pov, BAMF WWX, people will die violently for kidnapping the babies, hurt/comfort)

Talismans by brooklinegirl (E, 10k, WangXian)

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12. hiiii! for the next in the mood for, does anyone have fics where LXC goes to LQR for advice after Guanyin temple? either as an uncle or as a teacher, or both? thanks!

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13. I'm in the mood for a fic where WWX is shy or ashamed about his body or desires for whatever reason.

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14. Hi! For the next iitmf can i get A) some good Lan Wangji/Wen Ning/ Wei WuXian fics and/or B) fics where Lan WangJi was really mean to Wei WuXian before they got together 14B fics will be added to #15 ~Mod L

14A)

Three Men and a Radish by nirejseki (G, 3k, WangXianNing, Canon Divergence, Oblivious WWX, Mutual Pining)

heartstone by deadbeatrefrain (T, 13k, WangXianNing, Post-Canon, Character Study, Pining, Developing Relationship, Anxiety, Unreliable Narrator, Physical Intimacy, acts of service, Junior Quartet, Lán Zhàn's Rabbits, Past Ningxian, Family, gift giving as a love language, Fluff, Angst, implied depression, Hurt/Comfort)

but the spring will come by ectocosme (E, 7k, WangXianNing, Post-Canon, OT3, Fluff, Smut, Threesome, Double penetration)

It's Soft by Petits Pois (letsgogetlost) (G, 1k, wangxianning, pre-poly, established wangxian, quarantine fic, autistic LWJ, anxious WN, adhd WWX)

i didn’t think it could be true (let alone that it would be you) by ryneisaterriblefan (T, 11k, NingWangXian, Mutual Pining, Cuddling & Snuggling, Texting, Drunk LWJ, drunk WN, Pining, Cafes) 

The Boat Scene in Yunmeng Definitely Counts as a Date by ChaSeuBao (T, 2k, wangxianning, canon divergence, confessions, polyamory, first date)

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15. hello ♥️ for the next in the mood for post can you give me fic recs where lwj is kinda mean to wwx at first but then he regrets it?? sorry if this is kinda weird and thank you !! 14B fics will be added on this part, too ~Mod L

Say my name and his in the same breath by ataratah (M, 38k, WangXian, Soulmates AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Rejection, Mutual Pining, Found Family Feels, Temporary Character Death, magical baby aquisition, Angst with a Happy Ending, No Golden Core Transfer, Somebody Lives/Not everyone dies, Every woman lives/No woman dies)

the earthquake in the room by phnelt (E, 39k, WangXian, Modern AU, College AU, Canada, Getting Together, Mentions of lwj/others background NieLan, background WQ/MM, inter-faculty romance, Strangers to lovers to frenemies to lovers)

Honesty is the Best Policy (Except if You're an Asshole) by piecrust (E, 22k, WangXian, Modern AU, College AU, Porn with Feelings)

miscommunication)

🧡Life as a House  by Terri Botta (Isilwath) (T, 55k, WangXian, Modern AU, Post-Divorce, Father-Son Relationship, Reconciliation, Therapy, Angst with a happy ending)

Regret Blossoms by piecrust (G, 7k, wangxian, hanahaki disease)

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16. hi!! do you know any fics with CEO! lwj and secretary wwx (or even just employee wwx) thank you !! <3

Beautiful mess, a colourful wreck by covalentbonds (Not rated, 12k, wangxian, rule 63, fluff & humor, mild smut, childhood friends, first meetings, evil vending machines)

Work-Life Balance is Not A Thing by catbrainedschemes (E, 17k, wangxian, modern, romantic comedy, oblivious wangxian, eventual smut)

Special Delivery by agustdreams (T, 8k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Rich LWJ, Office AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Bickering, Family Drama, Dysfunctional Family, Awkward Flirting, WWX is a little shit, Mail delivery clerk WWX)

Wangxian Corporation by Galexyi (M, 91k, WIP, WangXian, Modern AU, Office AU, Fluff, Romance, Domestic Fluff, Mutual Pining, Getting Together)

Hello, IT. Have You Tried Turning It Off and On Again? by overmountainandmeadow (T, 65k, wangxian, modern, office au, mutual pining, slow burn, mistaken identity)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

Thank you everyone for all the recs!

[moonttaeil]

i've been waiting for you;

▶ Pairing: Jaehyun x reader. 

▶ Word count: 5k.

▶ one shot; very angsty; talks of violence; talks of domestic violence;if you're not comfortable of the idea of Y/N being abused please do not read; it does not have a very happy ending; im sorry; it has both jaehyun and Y/N pov's; (also jaehyun is not the abuser pls dont be scared)

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, still not looking at me. Something inside of me broke, scratched my organs, and made me bleed. Something inside of me cried out, harder than when receiving blows on my ribs. Something inside of me died the moment I heard his empty voice. I kept silent but he did not say anything else. It was an ending sentence, for me, for him, for what he could’ve been. We both knew, but we were both too scared to say it out loud. 

The first time I found myself in front of her the world around me fell. It is blurry, and I hope someday I’m able to make out what my thoughts on that precise moment were, but for now, all I know is her bright red lipstick draws me in like a month to a flame. Oh, what a flame she was. 

Her eyes silently called my way and my feet moved, pulled by the inevitable forces, a magnet she held close to her heart, hidden from the outside world, only felt by my hands that itched to touch her skin, burn themselves while trying to hold her near me, burn myself to ashes while trying to conquer something that was way out of my reach. 

It was a dark night. Not even the stars had shown up for our meeting. Her smile made up for that, although she was not keen to show it to me. Her lips moved; I heard her voice. I was entranced. I was hypnotized. I was immediately obsessed. Was she aware of how her presence affected me? If she was, she did not show a sign of it, not a flinch, not an intimidating glance. 

Somehow her glass was always full. She drank, and the moisture left behind on the edges of her mouth begged me to come closer. The stains on her glass, red, passionate, every second farther from me. I remember I answered her every question, I tried to be gentle, not raising my voice through the loudness of the bar. She seemed to be able to hear my every word, even the whispers that escaped from between my lips without my permission. 

I do remember the first time I saw her—I hoped to one day to forget. 

I always anticipated her entrance, and sometimes I was left only with broken hopes. She appeared and disappeared from time to time, leaving me wanting more, craving her presence. “I’ve been waiting for you” I would mutter out when she spent more than five days without checking by the bar, our place, our seats secretly reserved for ourselves. She would smile at me, slightly, almost imperceptible to the human eye. 

“Careful with waiting too long,” she would say, “some people become ghosts of the past while holding tightly on a dead idea.” 

I should’ve listened. 

Although we always sat by one another and talked, it had been the fifth time I saw her that I asked her the name that would stick with me for the rest of the years I had left to live. “Y/N,” she said, and I dreamt with her voice repeatedly. She did not ask back, and I felt uncomfortable. I wanted her to know—I needed her to think about it, to put a name on my face, to dream with it. “Jaehyun,” I answered back, trying to remain complete after being broken so many times by her eyes. 

She hummed in response. “I know.” I never asked how. 

Eventually, she decided to let me into her world. We stumbled out of the bar, her arm was wrapped around mine, trying to steady herself while she laughed at something, anything. Her eyes were shining so bright that night, the stars never dared to appear in her presence again. I couldn’t deny what was obvious, her trap for me had worked, excellently. Brilliantly. Her feet couldn’t walk straight, and in the end, I found a way to keep her on her feet without falling, dangling from my side. She never stopped laughing. 

“You drank more than usual tonight,” I commented, with no malice. No second intention. She was happy—disoriented, but happy. I was content to be able to spend time with her. She stopped and looked up at me, the remains of her happiness still written all over her forehead, cheeks, and chin. It was a second later, she sat on the curb, her knees finding their way to her chest. 

“Sometimes I feel like…” her voice trailed off, her eyes getting lost somewhere in the dark, in front of her, “like I have a lot of important things to say,” she muttered. I stood beside her, still on my feet, uncomfortable, trying to understand her mind. I realized I was still very far from the world inside of her body. “I know I have important things to say,” she repeated, but she was not talking to me, directly. “I simply…” a sigh, “don’t know what they are, yet.”

“It is hard to translate feelings into words.”

I sat beside her, in silence. My back hurt due to the position; she forced a smile back at me. 

“It’s not feelings,” she said, “a long time ago I had those, you know?” her question was not meant to be answered. Not by me. I listened. “Long time ago, when my body was not bruised, when my life was not threatened—when I was actually obsessed with living, with waking up, I was that girl.” 

In my eyes, she was still that girl. 

She kept quiet, reminiscing about the past. Her memories. 

“What happened to her?” I asked. I thought about it for a moment—if she ever was more, more, more than what she was now than what I only knew of her, my heart would not have been able to take it. Her eyes darted to me before moving slowly to look down.

“She…”

No words were needed for her to explain. She was dead, her old self, the young girl that wanted to eat the whole world before it eats her. She was dead, buried under the new Y/N that had risen to protect the corpse, the soul, the passion. “I just wish I could stop missing the old version of me,” she whispered before standing up. 

That night she left alone. I could’ve jumped right after her, I could’ve followed, and may be accompanied her back home. Everyone knew the streets were not safe at night, with dark alleys, and hungry eyes. I could’ve offered a helping hand. A conversation back home. But I did not. Instead, I stayed where I had been sitting by her side. Her presence lingered behind me, even when my eyes followed every step of her body leaving me behind. 

She did not come back for two weeks. 

When I saw her again, there was no trace left of the sour conversation we have had the last time. Instead, she smiled, sat by me, and told me what a stressful day she had had. I listened to her, being back next to her lifting my spiring at last. As usual, I said, “I’ve been waiting for you,” she hummed. “Wouldn’t it be nice if I waited for you too?” she had asked. 

I knew that was not possible. She was not obsessed – not anymore, -- with herself, as I was. It was a dangerous thought and feeling. I was playing with fire every time I saw her enter the bar. I was burning my fingers every time I let her smile at me. I was consuming my soul every time we left together, and let her go alone, leaving me behind. I was aware I would end up cremated, somehow, because of her. 

“Can I take you out to dinner?” I once asked. We were outside the bar. It was late, as usual. Her eyes looked up at me, surprised. I had been gathering the courage to ask her that question for the last four months, ever since the first time, I saw her. That night she wore a leather jacket, bruises hidden from anyone near her. I knew her answer. 

“You know I can’t,” and I knew she couldn’t. She had never explicitly said it out loud, it would damage the little bubble we have both threaded with caution, not overstepping the limits we have imposed for one another. I sighed, defeated one more time. It hurt to know that I’d always be at an arm-length distance from her, inevitably. She sensed the discouragement. She knew she was walking on a thin line; she was scared, and she was scatred. She could lose me the same I could lose her. 

I couldn’t be sure who would be losing more. 

“I want…” she whispered. 

“I know.”

It was a difficult situation for her to be carrying on her shoulders. I knew I was obsessed. She knew I was obsessed. I knew there was someone else in her life. She suffered their presence in her life. I knew I wanted to be with her, to let my fingers meet her body, to kiss her and let her fall asleep on top of my chest. She knew it would be a suicidal attempt to run away with me. “What do you say?” I rushed out, “when you go home late when you arrive drunk, what do you say?” 

She contemplated if she should answer or not. Her hands were now secured inside the pockets of her coat. Winter was coming, and we both knew it wouldn’t be long before we had to stop meeting in that bar, due to weather, and maybe other circumstances. “Sometimes I get away with it,” she simply answers, a smile trying to catch my attention while she spoke. “Sometimes I don’t.”

Although the questions were slowly rising inside my throat, and the feeling of rage crept behind my back, I kept my mouth closed shut. I knew—she knew I knew. She wasn’t hiding it, but she wasn’t giving me any details either. Her position was harder than mine, her chances to lose, her chances to win. 

“Jaehyun,” and the sound of her voice interpreting my name, it held me captive, and it would hold me captive forever, I knew. Jaehyun. Slowly, her fingers found their way to mine. It was a shy movement, she was breaking our secret agreement, she was trespassing the limits, the boards that held our worlds separated. “I think of you when I’m sad.”

It was a hard feeling to swallow. 

“How often?”

“Every night.”

I nodded. I held her hand tightly, I pulled her in. She let herself be pulled. Her feet took a step closer to my body. She did not look up at me. 

“I cannot ask you to come with me.”

“No, you can’t,” she whispered. 

“I cannot ask you to run away with me.”

“No, you can’t,” her eyes closed softly. 

“Where can I find you, if not here?”

She stayed silent. 

It had been three nights since I last saw Jaehyun. Every time I met him, I took a step closer to an inevitable ending for me, myself, my body, and my soul. I was aware—but what else could I do? He gave me the slightest hope. When he looked at me, he did not simply look at me. He saw me. He saw past and through me. I felt his eyes rummage through all my memories, which all belonged to me, only to me. But he still entered, he still tried to pick up the broken chaos inside me. He did that, unconsciously. 

I felt alive under his gaze. I felt awake when he listened to me. I felt mortal every time I took a step away from him, leaving his body standing still behind me, looking at me. I always fought back my emotions when that moment came around. Don’t look back, keep walking. Don’t look back, keep walking. Don’t—

And I did. I always left, and never asked him to follow. 

Then, I was alone. The sound of my steps was the only thing accompanying me, along with my cracking fingers. Walking out of the bubble, the thin edges, the comfort. Walking out of the light. Walking out of the passion—out of Jaehyun. But I knew better than to stop. 

I always tried to come up with an excuse, even if it wouldn’t work. Too much work? A night out with friends? Simple walk that took me out of reality. That last one I hoped to come one day true. The lights of the apartment building were almost all out. A cat crossed by me, hurriedly. The beeping sound of the numbers being typed in the little monitor, the display shining light blue. A deep breath after another. Jaehyun. My mind screamed his name. Jaehyun. Jaehyun. Jaehyun. 

Almost at my door—our door, what used to be our door, what used to hold so much meaning, now reduced to simple iron in front of me. The key was inside the lock. The lights are out, and then I know it’s imminent. 

I could’ve asked for help. But who was I to drag anyone, innocent, inside the hell that was built only for myself? Who was I to doom anyone else besides myself? The same questions repeat after I am inside. Where have you been, why do you come so late? Empty streets are not a suitable place for you—but if you've turned yourself into a whore, then I guess they are. I keep my mouth shut. 

He's in the dark. But I can make out the figure of his slouched body on the couch. He is not looking at me. I smell him. The booze. The weed. I turn around to avoid discussion, praying this night I’d be able to get away with it. When my body finally sides my room – our room, where we used to daydream about one day having a family, now reduced to an empty cage – my back is on the door. I hope he does not follow tonight—not tonight. 

Jaehyun. Jaehyun. 

It had been a lie. I had lied to him. I did not only think of him when I was sad. His name popped into my mind whenever I crossed the threshold of this house. 

Knocks on the door. My mind goes blank. I did not hear his steps. He wasn’t drunk. No, not tonight. He was sober, he had power. I wouldn’t get away with it tonight, I say to myself, I communicate silently to Jaehyun. I’m sorry I keep you waiting, I’m sorry I don’t appear, but the bruises will be too noticeable for me to face you like that. 

I turn around and open the door.   

I don’t go back to the bar for the rest of the week either. I know she won’t be there; Y/N won’t appear. That’s why I always pass by the glossy doors, a quick glance inside before turning my attention to the crowded street in front of me. If I were to be asked how I knew—I wouldn’t be able to explain. 

It was cruel. I knew it was cruel to let her go each night we spent a few hours together, I knew it was miserable of me to not run behind her and catch her and keep her safe, but who was I to even consider if she was not safe enough?  Maybe I was just a coward whenever it came to the moment to move and act. That’s why I stood still every time she turned around to leave, just watching her, trying to remember every step she takes in the other direction until her figure is completely lost in the shadows of the night. 

I knew it was cruel, but I couldn’t make myself overstep the boundaries she had imposed on me. 

That Friday I entered my house without going to the bar either. I was met with loneliness. I had created for myself a safe place where I couldn’t be harmed, I have created that space for me, only for me, my nostalgia imprinting every corner of the residence. 

I turned the lights on. I took off my shoes. I sat down on the couch. I could hear the neighbor kids laughing through the paper-thin walls. I could smell the dinner that was being made at the restaurant in front of our building. I could keep count of every car passing by my window. I was not focused. I was thinking of her. I was missing her. I was envisioning her in front of me, next to me, on top of me. 

I had to close my eyes. Y/N. The name, the smell, the laugh, the touch. 

I was losing myself to the delirium of not having her right there—right then. I needed her, I was poisoned by her, and I was addicted to her. Jaehyun, I could almost hear her say my name next to my ear. I opened my eyes, shocked. A thin layer of sweat had formed on my forehead, and neck, and nape. She was there—almost there. She would never be there. 

I couldn’t stand there any longer. 

I went back to the bar. 

It was Friday night and Y/N did not appear. 

When I met Jaeyhun again, it was too late. I had taken the decision to flee from that life, away from the darkness that had engulfed me. He was sitting on his – our – usual spot, his back now to the entrance. It confused me because he would always be the one looking ahead to the entrance, waiting for me. 

Three weeks had passed since the last time I saw him. Apart from me being too bruised to walk, I was not mentally ready to face him and lie to him. Lie. Lie. Lie. My heart nearly jumped out of my throat when I saw him, the outline of his neck, his wide shoulders. The darkness of his hair, cut perfectly but styled messily. I stopped. 

I felt like meeting him for the first time. I felt scared all over again. I felt nervous. I felt nauseous. Jaehyun. His name threatened to escape from my mouth in a form of a sigh. Even when I knew he shouldn’t, even when I had pushed him away from meeting so many times, disappeared, re-appeared, lied. It felt like the first time meeting him, although there was a big difference now. 

I made my way toward the table. He did not hear my steps. My hand slowly found its way to his shoulder, and I could feel him tense under my touch. The few times our skin has touched, I have always received the same reaction. His eyes darted down to his glass of wine; he did not look up. I knew why—I felt ashamed. For him, I had spent two hours in front of my mirror trying to conceal any leftover trace of the jealousy that had conquered my home years ago. For him I had painted my lips red; for him, I had practiced my smile and my words; for him, I had cried all my tears before taking a step outside of the house. 

I sat down, he did not look up. My heart skipped a beat. I knew it was too late. 

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, still not looking at me. Something inside of me broke, scratched my organs, and made me bleed. Something inside of me cried out, harder than when receiving blows on my ribs. Something inside of me died the moment I heard his empty voice. I kept silent but he did not say anything else. It was an ending sentence, for me, for him, for what he could’ve been. We both knew, but we were both too scared to say it out loud. 

“Once I told you I had important things to say,” I said quietly, he nodded in response, “and I know what they are now, although it might be too late.” His breathing was not even, and he was nervous. Another sip. The glass was suddenly empty. He didn’t wait for me to continue before turning around and raising his hand to the waiter, two fingers up, two more glasses coming our way. I was silent until our order came. He drank, and finally, he looked up at me.

“I am sorry I wasted so much time waiting for you,” he spoke quietly, “when I should’ve been looking out for you.”

“That would’ve been the worst situation.”

He took another sip. He hated himself—I hated myself even more, for making him see me like this, how I really am, what I really am. The misery I’ve felt for the last four years crept onto my neck, my hair, my head. 

“I’ve been trapped—I am, still,” I said. He nodded in response. “Trapped in my own life, and even if I wanted, I wouldn’t be able to reach you, let you take me away with you.” He nodded again. His head hung low. “I am ashamed of myself, Jaehyun.” 

It wasn’t explicit. He didn’t need explicit. I had left one bruise on my forearm without concealing it. I have left it for him to see, the surface of the situation. “You shouldn’t.” He said back. I knew—but I couldn’t afford to not be ashamed, not now that I am what I have always feared. 

“Wherever I looked, I always saw you. On each surface, on each ad. Women passed by me on the street and my brain tricked me every time into believing it was you.” He held his breath and so did I. 

I wanted to apologize again. Bring me down to my knees, bow my head low for him.

“It’s not your fault.”

His words took me out of my imagination. Reality shocked me to the core. It’s not your fault. His words repeated over and over again inside my brain, burning deep down, burning into ashes. But it is, I wanted to scream. It is. It is. His eyes never left mine. My mouth never opened. Not a single sound. “It’s not your fault, Y/N.” He spoke. 

“You don’t know—”

“I don’t need to.”

I finished the alcohol in my glass. He didn’t know. He shouldn’t know. He was good—Jaehyun was not him. Jaehyun was not mad, he was never mad. Jaehyun would understand if she left. Jaeyhun always understood when she disappeared. “I’ve come here tonight to…” I repeated the sentence I had running inside my mind for the past three weeks, “to say goodbye.”

He was silent and suddenly the noise that filled the bar that we were so used to being in vanished. It was him and me. Me and him. His eyes were on my lips. My tears were in his hands. He was there, finally—I have wished for him for years. I have dreamt with him, for him. I have fought for him, because of him. I have made stupid things; I have dug my own grave. 

“You don't want to.”

He was hurt when he said that. His voice broke. I broke.

“You haven’t even kissed me yet, and you want to say goodbye?” he laughed, out of sadness. I couldn’t bare to look at him anymore. Because he was right, I didn’t want to—but I didn’t want to live scared, scarred, for the rest of my life either. I didn’t want to bring him down with me, down the spiral of self-destruction I have created. I didn’t want to snatch away from him the years he had left to find happiness for himself. 

I have burnt all the bullets. He has the gun still loaded. 

Even if we wanted to, we couldn’t be on the same page. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No—you’re not,” he whispered. He was not mad. He spoke his mind. His words were harsh. But still, there wasn’t a hint of him being mad. 

Jaehyun. Jaehyun. Jaehyun. Jaehyun. 

Mind screamed for my hands to reach out to him. Let him hold me. Let him take all the pain away. Please, Jaehyun. 

“I am,” I said back. 

“You don’t have anything to apologize… at least to me. But…” he stopped. “If there is someone you ought to apologize to, is yourself.”

I stopped breathing. The tears burnt inside my eyes. I had to close them, cage them. But the more I insisted, the more they burnt, the fire spreading down my throat and reaching my lungs, imprisoning the air. It was hard to breathe. 

“Y/N,” he was demanding, he was begging. “Y/N.” It hurt, listening to my own name slip was his lips. “Where is that girl you talked about? The one obsessed with life—with the passion that came with being alive?” he questioned me, it hurt. “Where is that girl that you talked about? Find her, Y/N.” His words stabbed me. It was impossible—

“Find her, Y/N, before you let yourself die,” and with each word, his knuckles turned whiter, his fist on top of the table, “before you apologize to me from your grave, for leaving me, again. Find her.”

I wanted to speak back. I wanted to tell him that she was no longer here. I wanted to—I couldn’t. Jaehyun. His eyes burnt holes in my face, I felt as if I was disintegrating. I knew I loved him—Jaehyun. I knew before I came tonight, that it was too late to love him. He, as well, had gathered hate. 

“Jaehyun.”

And a tear slipped down his cheek as well. It glistened under the dim lights of the bar. We were still surrounded by people, but it was us. Only us. Only our memories together, only the minutes we have shared, only the seconds we have left.

That was the last time I saw her before years rushed by trying to bury her face in the depths of my memory. She was right, she came to say goodbye. She left. She disappeared. She did not come back, not to me at least. 

How many years have passed since I burned my last shot with her? Maybe ten, maybe fifteen. Every day I went to the bar. Every day I sat and waited, lonely, surrounded by my nostalgia, silently crying while drowning in many, many, glasses filled to the rim with the disgusting liquor that somehow managed to blur her face from my memory.

Although it hurt to lose her completely, I managed to stand up again. I picked up the pieces, held them together, and I glued them to one another even if they didn’t fit. I refused to be held to my knees for her — for the girl whom I have never really met, for her ghost. I left the bar one day and I didn’t come back. I turned my back to the place, to her, to our memories, and to myself. I moved. I disappeared. I followed her steps, never knowing where the road led. I tried to not rot, I tried to make myself a great man. I survived, without her, without the part of me that she held forever. 

And I did. It consumed me, just as I have predetermined she would do even before meeting her for the last time. Because I knew— there was no one else to blame but myself. That last time I saw her I held her in my arm, and let myself indulge in that little moment we had created for ourselves, the last moment we would share together. I remember her scent. I remember her hands holding tight to my arms, her fingers trembling. She did not want to let me go, and yet she did. She did not want to draw me to her madness, and yet she did. She did not want to hurt me, and yet, she killed a part of me that would never revive. 

And, although all that happened, I managed to get up from my knees. 

I couldn’t hold myself hostage in the past while grasping onto the thin threat that held the idea of her coming back to me. 

I also let her go. 

The years have passed and I sigh as I make my way to the kindergarten where my children await for me to pick them up. I walk slowly, thinking about all the tasks we have for today. I think about my wife, such a lovely girl, such a respectful woman, and such a responsible mother. I think about her, and my heart aches. Because I love her— I do love her. But I am not obsessed with her, with her existence, her passion. She has never had her lips painted deep red. She has never had me waiting for her, she was always early. She never kept her mysteries to herself, she shared her life with me. 

I loved her and yet— I don’t.

I pass by a bookshop. The path I take every afternoon is the same. I’ve been to that bookshop many times before. I’ve shopped there, and I’ve spent evenings with my kids looking for the right book for nighttime. And yet I stop, my feet suddenly forget how to move. Because she was there— her face was there. Her eyes were there. Her red lips were on the cover. It was both improbable and impossible. I had given up on the idea to see her again years ago. She looked at me, right at me. Her picture draws me in. I stepped inside the bookshop. 

Without giving it a second thought I pick up the books. 

It’s not your fault, it’s the title. She’s holding onto a glass of wine, and I recognize the surroundings of the photo. The dim lights and the chairs were where they used to spend every night when they saw each other. She was in their reserved seats. The entrance was behind her. It felt like I have been the one taking the photo. 

Years have passed, and they left a mark behind. She had wrinkles, she was thinner, and her cheekbones were way prominent now. Her bare shoulders showed in the photo, and more than one scar was recognizable. Time was not kind to everyone but to her— time did not exist. She glowed, she still had the magnet that pulled me in. I held the book and my mind drifted back in time to when I would wait for her, for hours, for days, and for weeks. 

“Jaehyun?” The voice of the lady who works there takes me out of the trance, the little bubble that appeared again after so many years of living like a mortal. I turn to look at her, stunned, pale probably. She smiles and nods towards the stack of books with her face on them. With Y/N smiling at me. “It’s the new best-seller, a biography by a survivor of domestic violence,” she explains, “but I don’t think Mariko will like that kind of book.” She’s talking about my wife. She believes I want to buy that book for my wife. Oh, how naïve she actually was. 

“Thank you,” I mumble and turn around to look at the book between my hands again. 

Slowly I open the first page. 

I’ve been waiting for you, J. I want you to know that it is not your fault I left.

[sensitively-taken]

just you, the moon, and the stars — enhypen

synopsis. since you were a child, hushed whispers had flurried around you about The Bordered Forest. the whispers weren’t of ghastly tales of people getting torn apart by a ferocious beast, nor were they warnings of a haggard witch who ate children’s hearts for youthful beauty. the whispers were mere wonderings of what could reside in such an ominous forest. everyone in your village knew of it and was curious of what dwelled inside, but no one had dared to venture within an ear of the place.

except for you, of course.

featuring. you & enhypen (sorta).

genre(s). fantasy, horror, supernatural, thriller.

warnings. bodily fluids (blood & bile), death, explicit gore (like rlly extreme descriptions of gore that get a bit disgusting at times... so beware), sacrilegious themes, violence & all these warnings imply. 

note: for the sake of not ruining the plot, i haven’t gone into depth about how often these things appear, to what extent they’ll appear, and/or what forms of them will appear (e.g. gore) but if it’s mentioned above please know that it will come up and it will be an integral part of the fic. for example, with gore, i’ve purposely not specified how it will appear, but please anticipate gore of all forms & types since that’s what is implied.

word count. 5.3k (5385)

taglist. @soobin-chois​ @acciomylove​ 

listen to! given-taken, enhypen ⭑ drunk-dazed, enhypen ⭑ fever, enhypen ⭑ eternally, txt

notes. not going to lie, i’m a bit nervous bc this is my first post on here in Months and tbh the teaser didn’t do too well so i really don’t know if anyone will read this but! if you do, i hope you enjoy!! i always love to hear what u guys think so don’t feel shy to give me some feedback if u want to! ❤️ 

p.s. even though i expanded the playlist this time around, this fic was inspired by given-taken alone LMAO. i wrote this back when border: day one was their only album out & we were getting teasers for the 2nd album. and when i tell u i was obsessed w this song!!! it rlly is such a good song that it, alone, made me write 5k of pure horrific content that made me, the writer, genuinely so uncomfortable i was looking over my shoulder while writing this at night. like what a good freaking song! we love her! so yea this is just given-taken promo 😎 enjoy 😎

p.p.s ty sage @jaeyunverse​ (almost wrote ur twitter @ instead LOL) for beta-reading this for me!

ok im done fr . time to get traumatised 😎

It was a normal night. The moon was high in the sky, as round and as wide as anything. The stars pranced around the moon in a circle, praises falling from their lips in the form of twinkles and shimmers. While the winds were harsh and cold, biting at anything they could sink their teeth into, they remained a solace as you set out into The Bordered Forest.

Since you were a child, an innocent babe, hushed whispers had flurried around you about the forest bordering your village. The whispers weren’t of ghastly tales of people getting torn apart by a ferocious beast, nor were they warnings of a haggard witch who ate children’s hearts for youthful beauty. The whispers were mere wonderings of what could reside in such an ominous forest. With such a heavy blanket of mist resting upon it, it seemed like even the Gods had turned their backs on it—and everything inside. Everyone in your village knew of it and was curious of what dwelled inside, but no one had dared to venture within an ear of the place.

Except for you, of course.

The first time you’d neared the forest couldn’t have been more than a few years ago. You’d been playing a friendly game of catch with your friends until your ball had rolled away. Your eyes and legs had been so set on following the ball’s path that you hadn’t realised it had stopped in the opening of the forest until you got there. By then, it’d been too late to turn back, so you’d marvelled at the beauties of such a mysterious place. Fruits you’d never seen before grew from twisted blossoms and tangled vines. Animals, with eyes so big and claws so small, had scurried about. There had been the sound of winds rushing through hollow chimes with every step you had taken. It had been absolutely magical.

So, you’d wanted more.

As you grew older, and less reckless, you learned to feed your curiosity in a safer manner. About once a year, you would hover around the edges of the forest with all the charms and crystals you could adorn and pray for a glimpse of a stray creature. Your prayers were never answered—why would the Gods bother with a prayer seeking an abandoned forest?—so your hunger and thirst for more had only grown and grown. They’d grown to the point that one day you had made up your mind to walk all the way to the heart of the forest.

And, here you were. With layers of charms and crystals laid on your neck, potions in your pouch, and memorised spells in your head, you were ready. You were finally ready to discover the secrets of The Bordered Forest.

You inhaled deeply, sparing your village one last glance. The rows of quaint houses seemed to grow as if they were trying to warn you of something. Don’t go further, they bellowed, but you laughed to yourself and turned away instead. A last prayer slipped past your lips when you pressed your fingers against the rough bark of the first tree. “Your child has come before you once again to ask for grace, mercy, and prosperity in this journey. No evil will come near your child, nor will your child fall prey to the enemy. By the will of the Gods, your child prays.”

A short breeze swept past you, and you nearly cried tears of relief. After years of unanswered prayers, the Gods had finally listened. The little worries that’d resided in your heart were quelled, once and for all, and you took your first step into the forest with good faith. Surely, after all you’d done to ensure your safety, nothing would happen to you.

You walked for what felt like hours. You marked the trees you passed with the blade of a sharp dagger, begging Mother Nature for forgiveness as you did so. Even if you didn’t believe anything would happen to you, you’d heard too many stories of adventurers who met their early demise simply because they lost their path. You didn’t plan on meeting the same fate, so you made sure each etch into the bark was deep. It was when you marked what felt like the hundredth tree that weariness crept into your bones.

You didn’t understand. Not once had you seen one of the beautiful fruits that you’d seen all those years back. Nor had you encountered a wild creature, scuttling along the path in front of you. Even the mist, which was all that could be seen from the edge of the forest, was nowhere in sight. It was just you, the moon, and the stars.

“Or is it?” A quiet voice whispered in your ear. It was fleeting, so quick that you ought to have imagined it, but you were sure of the hot breath that left the hairs on the back of your neck at alert. Your instincts told you to turn around, to pierce whatever was perching there with a singular thrust. But when you pushed away the growing fear in your heart and gave in, there was nothing there.

“Just me, the moon, and the stars. Me, the moon, and the stars,” you whispered to yourself,  sparing your surroundings one last, wary glance. There was nothing that stood out to you, nothing that should cause you worry, but there was still a storm brewing in the depths of your stomach.

You shook your head. Despite what you’d imagined, there wasn’t anyone there. It was just you, the moon, and the stars.

After that, your pace quickened. You still carved a few lines into the bark of the trees with precision and care, but you didn’t take the time to admire the rotting foliage around you anymore. The winds’ sparse blows through some branches no longer excited you. You didn’t turn around to see if there was a creature approaching at the sound. Instead, you made your strides longer and made your glances over your shoulder more frequent.

You were starting to understand the tones of fear in the villagers’ whispers. A deep rumbling was churning in the depths of your stomach, and you regretted not heeding the warnings of the houses.

“Why listen to them when you can listen to me?”

Your long strides halted, and you whipped your head around frantically. Like before, there was nothing behind you. The forest—with its vines, branches, and moss—was the same as it was the last couple of times you’d glanced over your shoulder. There was nothing dangerous in sight, but your heart didn’t see what your eyes did. Your heart saw danger, and it was already running away in your chest. It was trying to claw its way past your ribcage, but you swallowed some deep gulps of air and told your heart to still.

It did not.

“Poor thing. Your heart is so eager to jump out of your chest.” The voice was patronising, yet saccharine. Its lilt was meant to soothe you, warm you, and butter you up, but it set your heart racing at a faster pace instead. Your heart nearly stopped when it continued with, “Let me take it from you. I’ll take good care of it; I swear on it.”

“Who… who are you?” you yelled, looking over both your shoulders. Your hand trembled as it clasped the ivory charm draped around your neck. “I mean no harm.”

There was no response, except for the whistle of the winds brushing through the trees. You didn’t realise your mouth was agape and panting until your warm breath turned into vapour in the air. It was then you noticed the mist—the one your heart had so greatly desired. Filled with fear and trepidation, your heart forgot to gasp with glee.

Shutting your mouth, you continued along your way with a tightened grip around your dagger. You wouldn’t let an imagined voice make a fool of you. You inhaled deeply and marked another tree. No, you most certainly wouldn’t.

This time around, your strides were long, and your face was grim. The mist licked at the leather boots hugging your sore feet, and the winds whistled in the night. You were sure you’d been walking for hours. Blisters were forming on your feet, and your grip on your dagger was slipping, but every time you thought of resting, the strange voice’s words came back to unnerve you.

Why listen to them when you can listen to me?

Listen to me.

“No, no.” You shook your head and resisted the itch to look over your shoulder. “Me, the moon, and the stars. Me, the moon, and the sta—”

A sharp crack cut through your self-assurance. You whipped your head around immediately and scanned the dark forest for any sign of a threat. Your chest was heaving quickly, and your blood was rushing in your ears as you checked the forest once, twice, thrice. There was nothing there, save for the overgrown moss and the intermingling of the trees’ roots. There was nothing there, yet your heart was still pounding with anticipation. It was a wicked anticipation—fuelled by fear in its purest form, but edges lined with sweet excitement.

Something was coming, and your heart raced to announce its arrival.

You swallowed thickly and hesitantly turned your head back. You were on a journey to the heart of The Bordered Forest, and you wouldn’t let anything distract you any longer. Nodding to yourself, you whispered, “No more distractions.”

The forest had other plans in store for you.

Just as you marked the next tree you came across, a loud wail rang throughout the forest. It sent a streak of terror down your spine, while the muscles in your neck ached as you ignored the urge to glance over your shoulder. No matter what, you couldn’t waste more time with terrified glances. An adventurer on a journey towards a wicked witch or a malevolent wolf had no time to waste on feeding the fears growing in their heart. And, neither did you.

It was just one step you’d taken when another wail weaved between the trees. This one made your resolve falter. Through the whispers of the winds, you were sure the wail you’d heard belonged to a babe. An ominous feeling began to feast on your stomach.

You were reminded of your first instance in the forest. Young, naïve, and innocent had you been when you had chased your ball into the forest’s opening. For you, things had ended well. You’d ventured into the forest’s opening, filled your eyes with the pleasures of the forest, and returned to your village with your being intact. But, what if that hadn’t been the case? What if a gruesome, horrifying creature had trapped you against a tree? What if you had cried in terror and received nothing but the wind’s whistles in return? What if you had died?

Another wail reached your ears, and you turned on your heel. Let being a fool be damned. You were not going to have the blood of a babe on your hands.

The marks you’d etched onto the numerous trees blended into one as you dashed in the direction you had come from. The mist chased after your quick heels and the wind beckoned you back towards the heart of the forest, but your heart was set on the child. Their wails seemed to be receding—or was the wind blocking your ears?—as your strides grew longer and faster. You feared the worst, and it kept your legs moving, even as they screamed with the deep-set ache within them.

You had to save the child, you had to save the child, you had to—

“Never turn your back on the heart.”

Before you were even able to understand the words whispered down your spine, a snarl sounded behind you and a searing pain crept up your right leg. Your dagger slid out of your grasp, the pain digging deeper into your flesh. It muddled your senses and disoriented you so greatly that it took you several moments to realise the pain wasn’t an enchantment cast by a hidden mage or the lull of the forest. Your eyes grew wide, as you realised the pain was the sharp bite of a wolf. You stumbled to the ground, the rushing winds swallowing your scream.

You gasped for air, your ankle screaming in agony, while the wolf kept its jaw locked on your calf. Your body was twisted at such an angle you hadn’t even known mortals could twist in—with your back laid against the forest’s vines, but your legs turned to the side as the wolf kept gnawing on your calf. Another scream was ripped out of your throat when the wolf removed its sharp canines from your flesh, only to return them with a frightening strength. The sound of bones shattering accompanied your cry.

“P-Please,” you sobbed, vision blurred, “Gods, please, p-please make your… y-your child’s death swift.”

You wept, and the moon and its ringlet of stars gazed at you with pity. The wolf kept its jaw locked around the mangled flesh, and occasionally lapped up the blood that leaked from your limb. Death loomed over your head and drew closer with every lap the wolf took.

The winds, which had only whispered in your ears and brushed the trees with their delicate touch before, seemed to take glee in your suffering as they counted down the minutes till your death. Their comrade, the mist, fanned out against you and the wolf, creating a stage for the trees to spectate. Not only were you going to die, but the forest you’d admired so much was eager to witness your demise.

Yet, even as your head swam and sunk, some part of you was aware that the wolf had yet to deliver the finishing bite. It remained by your limb, not fully tearing it off nor biting it, but licking up the streams of gushing blood—almost as if it were… a feline. You squeezed your eyes closed, tears pooling up on your eyelashes, as you prayed to the Gods that the wolf would deliver your fate already.

But you should’ve realised that the Gods had abandoned you long ago.

A bittersweet solace lay in the way the wolf remained steadfast to your calf. Its laps drew sharp bursts of pain—not just from the limb, but everywhere: behind your eyelids, the forefront of your head, your ribcage, your heart. Yet, they also reminded you that you were still alive; you were breathing, albeit haggardly, and your end had not yet come. That soothed you as alcohol soothes a wound.

The wolf was cruel. It gave you hope when you both knew your death was certain.

Then, almost as a distraction from your pitiful death, a cry tore through the night. You were almost sure it was your own until your half-conscious mind managed to recognise it.

The babe. How had you forgotten about the child?

Your eyes shot open, and the moon’s terrified face greeted you. There wasn’t much you could do, with the amount of blood you were losing and the state of consciousness you were in, but your heart raced for the screaming child. So, with the strength of a faint bird, you thrashed your leg around in hopes that the wolf would release you.

It didn’t. Instead, it gnawed down harder on your limb, teeth sinking down deeper than they had before. You jolted up and released a cry of your own. “Gods!”

The child chimed in with you, the tones of desolation and terror ringing out in their cries. It was almost like you could hear the child wail your name amidst the sound of your blood rushing in your ears, your heart pounding, your tired breaths, and the forest howling with glee. Your heart ached, and you thrashed once more as spots danced in your vision. Or were they stars?

Weaving between the trees, the winds taunted you. Their silken words hissed, “How does one expect to save a babe when one cannot save oneself?”

As much as you hated to admit it, there was only truth to that question. You were twisted into a ghastly shape, bleeding from a torn limb, and at the mercy of a wolf.

Almost as if to remind you, it retracted from your calf, stalked up your body, and plunged its teeth into your torso instead. Any cries left in you died on your tongue as you choked on copper. It was blood you choked on, you realised too late, watching the tell-tale rouge bloom across your abdomen. The wolf’s mouth was stained, with your blood, as it feasted on your soft flesh. It switched between its feline laps and carnivorous tears at your muscle, while you could only gaze at the moon and stars through teary eyes.

“P-Pl… Please.” You had never thought you would beg for death the way you were begging now.

The Gods seemed to spare you, their precious child, a drop of pity.

Without any warning of any kind, the wolf abandoned its feast. Blood dripped from its snout, as its ears twitched in every which way. Its ears perked towards the shrouded trees you hadn’t touched with your dagger—the trees in the middle of the forest. A low whine rumbled from its throat, almost as if it’d been scolded, before it rushed off into the heart of the forest.

The Bordered Forest went silent. The winds weren’t blowing, the trees weren’t watching, and the moon and stars were still. It was all so hushed and quiet that even the mist hung in the air, petrified in the presence of impending anticipation. The hesitance in the forest trickled into your heart, as the silence stretched on. After all the wretched forest had done to you, it still managed to harbour fears of its own. Sweat beaded along your eyebrows.

“Beware,” the trees around you sang when the winds started up again and flurried between their branches. It must have been your deliriousness creating images in your eyes, but the trees appeared to be dancing in a ring—moving away from you with each step.

What was the forest scared of?

The winds escalated in volume once again, this time without their previous taunts. They chanted, and chanted, and chanted—filling your mind with noises so loud and images so grim. The excruciating pain waltzing throughout your entire body meddled with your ability to hear the winds’ message. It was only when you raised your head ever so slightly that you realised what they were saying. “Make way for the witch. Make way for the witch. Make way for the witch—”

“Silence!” Out of the heart of the forest, The Bordered Forest’s one true fear emerged. They were a tall figure, with feminine curves that dipped and rose in all the right places, but limbs so hairy you were sure they were a beast. Their face remained shrouded from you with the velvet hood of the dark robe they were wearing. When they spoke again, you recognised their voice as the sickly sweet one that had begged for your heart. “Child, did my impression amuse you?”

Your head swam. The agony behind your eyes, tickling almost every ending of your nerves, intensified as the figure levitated closer to you. There was no way you could focus on anyone else besides yourself, while your body was leaking so much blood and pain slithered into the crevices between your flesh, but there was an allure to this figure—this witch—that tempted you. “… W-What?”

The trees whispered, and the winds gasped. For once, the two worked together to whisper a frightening tune, “The witch is here. The witch is here. The witch is h—”

The whispers faded into a mere buzz, as your body lifted off the ground. You screamed when your disfigured calf gave way and fell onto the vines beneath you. Blood watered the moss, vines, and all the foliage of the forest’s ground, and they all watched your body float closer to the witch. When your remaining leg was an ear’s breadth away from their chest, they turned you vertically, and you nearly spluttered out a fountain of blood.

The witch’s crafty smile escaped the shadows their hood cast on their face, as they wiped the blood that managed to dribble out the sides of your lips. “My impression of a babe. It was quite a performance, wasn’t it? I do applaud myself for it, as well.”

Your heart lurched into the depths of your stomach. “A… b-babe?”

Instead of replying, the witch whistled a seductive tune. Fallen twigs snapped, and the wolf appeared again. Its mouth was still bloodied, and so were its paws, but there was a renewed fervour in its eyes. Whilst it stalked up to the witch’s side, it purred and whined lowly. The witch patted the creature’s head with their claw-like fingers and murmured, “Good pet.”

You could only watch as the wolf sauntered to the ground you were hovering over and carried your limb in its mouth. You shuddered and focused your eyes on anywhere else but the wolf’s disappearing figure. At least it would feast tonight.

With the image of the wolf carrying part of your leg in its mouth, everything began to fall into place. Somehow, this wicked witch had orchestrated everything that’d happened to you. The voice had been them, the child had been them, even the wolf had been sent in by them to feast on your tired form. After luring you into the forest, befuddling you with their voice, and sending in their beast of a pet, the witch had you right where they wanted you—too tired and faint to refuse your heart.

“Yes,” the witch whispered, licking their lips with the tongue of a serpent, “You are finally being enlightened.”

With the little strength you could muster, you moved your hands to rest over where your heart was. Your fingers trembled with tremors, and you shook your head. “N-No.”

“No?” The witch didn’t seem angry in the slightest. Instead, their lips curled up incredibly, revealing their grotesque set of fangs. “Child, I believe you have no choice.”

You began to protest, but the overwhelming taste of copper filled your mouth and choked up your words. You retched bloody bile out of your mouth, and all over the front of the witch’s robe in one go.

The witch shivered and purred, while the putrid scent filled the space between you two. Your eyes grew wide when they drew a line through the fluids splattered on their robe with a sharp claw and brought it up to their lips. You retched again when they licked off your blood from their talon and moaned in ecstasy. “I knew you would be delicious. Your blood was far too tempting, so I just had to have a taste first. Excuse my manners.”

Your stomach was churning, and you were certain that if the wolf had bitten off the flesh covering it, the acidic contents in it would tumble out right now and decorate the mossy floor. A grimace marred your lips, as the witch licked up some more of your blood from their robe.

“Although,” the witch paused to roll their eyes back in bliss, “I wasn’t completely mannerless. When you entered my abode, I did request for your heart.”

You shuddered at the feeling of their wet talon grazing your face. “I did request it, did I not?”

Their earlier words played a symphony in your mind you simply did not want to listen to. “I’ll take good care of it; I swear on it.” You bit your lip and relished the copper taste in your mouth. Truly, there was nothing you could do to keep your heart, yet a strange hope still blossomed in you. Perhaps the Gods would save their child. They would never fail you.

The witch scoffed and stroked your cheek slowly. “Your Gods have failed you, and they will again.”

A burning rage bubbled up inside you. It threatened to spill over in angry words, but your mouth was too exhausted to utter anything more. Instead, you fought past the pain in your eyes and cursed the witch out with them. The Gods would surely strike the witch down as soon as they caught wind of the witch’s blasphemy.

“Oh, little thing, don’t get too angry now.” They withdrew from you and started floating around you instead. You were still in the air, but now you were spinning slowly as the witch held out a hand in the direction of The Bordered Forest. “As much as it would delight me to say so, the fault doesn’t fall solely on them. Those beings have no access to my forest, nor does any other form of magick.”

Their forest?

More rage burst forward from your heart. It was more than jarring to hear the witch’s pride in what they’d wrongly stolen and claimed as their own. After all, the Gods created and owned the land every mortal walked on. If a fool were to read The Scriptures, that’s the least they would pick up from it, and yet this witch didn’t seem to have any regard for such truths. You scowled.

“The Gods created everything? Is that the trickery they’re preaching nowadays?” A cunning smile laid across the witch’s lips. “Did they forget to teach the babes the power that resides within each one of us, if we so much as desire to unearth it?���

You ripped your eyes away from the witch’s figure and hungry lips. There was something about the witch’s words that rang with truth, yet you didn’t want to hear more. As a child, you’d been told enough tales of the ends of those who desired more than the Gods blessed them with.

“At the very least, you know it’s true.” The witch stopped in front of a particular ring of trees, as the winds slithered between their branches. Their smile grew, and two fangs pierced their wine lips. A shiver ran down your spine at the sight and you realised you’d looked back up at the witch.

When they spoke again, their serpent tongue made an appearance. “We, mortals, have so much power. The Gods wish we remain ignorant to it because they fear a mortal with power.”

You shook your head, even as it protested with furious shouts of agony. Even if you were too faint to cover your ears with your hands, you wouldn’t allow some lowly witch’s blasphemy to infiltrate your heart. Who were they that they could spew such blasphemy, without the fear of the Gods weighing on their heart?

“Who am I?” The witch’s claws twitched as they neared the hood of their robe. “I hold many names, child.”

With a simple tug of their claw, their hood fell and revealed one of the most enchanting sights you’d ever seen. Their almond eyes shone with mirth, as they twinkled between a deep blue and shades of brown. Their nose slanted down their face smoothly and complimented the sharp ridges of their face. They must’ve been a magick creature of some sort because their pale skin shimmered and sparkled under the moonlight. The witch was gorgeous.

They smiled, bemused at the obvious admiration donning your face, but they made no comment on it. Instead, they sauntered closer to you and extended a hand in your direction. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, child. I’m Sunghoon.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach when their face melted off and warped into another one. This face was equally beautiful and similar to the first one, but the eyes were rounder, the face was softer, and there were more touches of youth to it.

The witch’s brown eyes twinkled with glee. “This is Jungwon.”

Yet again, their face morphed, and the witch reintroduced themselves with another name—Sunoo. A pit carved out a hole in your chest, as the witch kept morphing and you realised that the faces seemed to be growing younger and younger. The Jay face, the most serious one out of them all, made your heart tighten, as a revelation struck you. These were the faces of the children who’d had their hearts ripped out by the witch.

“Yes, yes!” The witch clapped, with the face of the most youthful child you'd seen so far—Riki. They sauntered closer to you, with their tongue flicking out at you over their lips. “Children just have the most delectable faces, and their hearts—oh, their hearts—they’re quite sweet. They taste of the sweetest of honeys.”

Their talons dug into your shoulders, and you were too horrified to even scream. You only began to struggle against their hold when desperation leaked into the irises of the child’s stolen eyes.

“Oh, you must let me have your heart.” The witch cupped your cheeks with one hand, squeezing your flesh there with a frightening strength. Their tongue flicked out over the dried blood splattered around your mouth, and you recoiled at the heavy scent of rotten beauty reeking from their mouth. “Your bone structure is simply marvellous, and it fills me with much envy, just seeing your flesh stretched across it, instead of mine.”

You shook your head frantically and thrashed around, but their magick held strong against your faint form.

The witch smiled again, and it was at that moment that you noticed the flecks of flesh hidden between their fangs. “I’ll take good care of it, child. I swear on it. I may even reserve it for special occasions if you so much as wish for it.”

A scream fought to erupt from your throat, but you were much too petrified to do anything. Not only was the blood loss taking its toll on you, but the witch’s sharp claws were still sunk into your shoulders and drawing more blood. Your body danced between the thudding horrors of your realisations, and the sting of the constant pain as you waited for something, anything, to save you from this monster.

“Don’t fret, child.” The witch finally retracted from you and hovered close to some of the trees instead. Their smile was mad, as you were sure they were. “I’ll take good care of your body too. You can even decide your fate. Will you be a moss? A tree? Dancing vines?”

Their words played in your head for a few moments, until your heart stopped. Sparing a tree a glance, you retched the coppery liquid in your mouth yet again.

The witch hadn’t been lying when they said they’d created the forest with their might alone. Everything—the moss, the vines, the trees, everything—was the magicked carcasses of their previous victims. Your scream finally spilled out of your mouth.

The witch drew close to you, something akin to pity in the depths of their eyes—in the depths of the child’s eyes. They shook their head brusquely. “Don’t cry, dear child. Don’t cry.”

A long talon traced its way from your chin to the base of your neck, drawing blood there. “There had been something you’d said, hadn’t you?”

You writhed and sobbed as the witch lapped up the blood pooling around your collarbones. Their shiver rumbled through you, and you wanted nothing more than to slay them right there and then. But, you couldn’t do anything as their claw and mouth made their way to your chest, and they licked the skin protecting your heart.

“It’s just you, the moon, and the stars,” they paused to gaze up at you with a malevolent glint in their eyes, “so, swallow up your screams, for the moon and stars can’t save you.”

Then, their fangs sunk in. It was a sharp and paralysing sensation for a moment, and then you could feel the life trickling out of your flesh. Your screams died in your throat, as you spared the moon and stars one last glance. The stars cried, and the moon mourned, as the last bit of your life trickled into the witch’s mouth.

copyright 2022 soobisms, all rights reserved. no translations or reposts of any form allowed.

[wlwhq]

hey babies! i am home from my trip! this weekend was awesomely wild - ran a 5k (my first one!!!), ate some delicious snacks, rode some amazing rides, and made some cool memories! not sure when i will get to go back when i normally visit dland two or three times a year, so this was a great way to round out my fav vacation and start 2024 off right.

under the cut are some changes to my activity and how i plan on operating this blog ooc. nothing crazy! but i wanted to keep you all in the loop. i should really make a rules page, maybe i will do that, but in the meantime, ill link this post to my pinned and then you can read it whenever. love u babes

starting with my next adventure in life - i am going back to school starting this week, taking four hugely important classes so i can apply to a rad tech program this summer. basically, if you thought i was slow before (which I am), i am about to get even slower and most likely be dropping things that sit for too long. i am also going to suspend discord writing/rping for the time being, as i already have little to no motivation to get logged onto there when my tumblr drafts get as high as they do.

i am going to be making a point of prioritizing the tumblr replies that (in no particular order) 1) come from people i have befriended and spoken to/plotted with ooc, 2) have been longstanding and either are about to be wrapped up or have a feasible end point, 3) have just been started for me or were plotted/started while i was away (whether things are kept up once the vibe is felt up will be figured out as i go), and 4) i am personally excited about replying to.

im telling ya, it’s going to be a rough semester and i am anticipating my activity going from slow to possibly nonexistent at times. #4 on that list above is most important to me, as this is a hobby and i want to come here as a definite stress reliever & not let it add to my stress. the easiest way to make me feel #4 about our threads or ships or interactions, whatever you wanna call them, is by doing #1. cannot promise fast ooc responses either, but they will definitely be faster than replies. this is not me becoming a “private” multimuse, just a gentle encouragement that if you want “quicker” replies from me from here on out, id prefer that we talk ooc and become friendly if we aren’t already - if you want your replies to not sit as long!

i am sooososos sorry to spring long paragraphs on you time and time again, but i am trying to not disappoint anyone, hurt any feelings, or deter anyone who wants to write with me. in order for me to keep my sanity for the next few months, changing the way that i run this blog is essential. i understand if you want to either drop threads, unfollow, or break the mutual if you’re reading this and are not thrilled about it. i want you to make your dash what you want to make it, the same way i have done with mine! please feel free to message me if you're wanting to be one of those "primary" blogs that i devote my energy to replying to. chances are if you think you are one of them, you are, but still.

tldr; i love you all to the moon and back and this isn't goodbye!!! i shall still be around, just devoting my energy to the things that i have the most muse for because they are plotted out/fangirled about/loved down ooc as well as ic. <3

[oh-katsuki]

okay so... im exhausted and gonna go to bed bc i can no longer register what im typing. BUT i think ill be finishing the hanma fic tomorrow and then MAYBE posting the first chapter on wednesday. If not wednesday, then definitely at some point this week. 

i’m anticipating maybe 5k more words on this or so and then i gotta proofread the first chapter. i SHOULD be done by thursday at the latest if shit doesn’t come up irl.

[etherealinowrites]

my nights are your gifts | chan | m

minors dni!!

pairing- female reader x chan

summary- the high tides rolled in slow waves to your feet, lapping at the shore. hands holding hands, your bright eyes glisten as you take in each other. love blooms deeper than ever, as you both connect in more ways than one.

or the one where you and your boyfriend go on a getaway to a beach.

genre- fluff, smut, unprotected sex (practice safe sex y’all), oral, vanilla sex, praise kink, body worshipping, use of petname- babygirl, soft dom!chan, pussy-eating, fingering,, marking, BEACH SEX FUCK YES, creampie

masterlist, 

requested- No

wc- 5K

--

you walked into the hotel room, breathing out in awe at the comfortable stay it promised. the bell boy placed your luggage inside, smiling wide at you as he place the key cards inside the pocket on the wall and one on the table.

chan thanked him, closing the door shut. “so.” he smiled, coming up behind you with a hug. “do you like it?”

you sighed deeply, melting your body in his as you put your hands on his, rocking each other sideways softly.

“like it?” you gazed out the floor to ceiling windows that showed the wide shoreline of the beach that chan had booked for your 3 year anniversary of dating. “chan, i love it! it’s perfect!” you turned, arms still around each other.

he blushed, dimples peeking out as he but his lower lip. a regular habit of his that you absolutely loved.

“well i’m glad.” his eyes turned lower, glancing at your lips as he leaned in to steal a kiss. “that you love it baby girl.”

your hands moved upwards, latching behind his neck. his smiled deepened, stare turning into his bedroom one as he licked his lips, touching his forehead to yours as if drinking your presence in.

“you know what else would make me glad?” he mumbled, lips touching yours as he spoke.

“mhmm mhmm.” you hummed, slowly caressing the nape of his neck. “what?”

and then he leaned in, kissing you slow and deep. his lips captures yours in a lock so passionate, you almost lost your senses for a hot second.

he nipped at your bottom lip, eliciting a small moan from you. your hand pulled his head closer to yours, tilting it to be closer. your fingers tugged at his soft curls, making him groan in your mouth.

he broke apart, a sheen covering his lips as a string of saliva connected you both. “you and me, the bed. right now.” he spoke in between deep breaths. his eyes were blown wide, like brown pools of chocolate that drunk you in.

“who am i to refuse?” you whispered, trailing a finger on his cheek and placing it beneath his jaw.

he smirked, left dimple popping up once more as he pulled you to bed, his hands gentle and soft on your body.

your back hit the soft sheets, a small gasp leaving you as chan quickly placed himself on top of you, hands on either side to support his weight.

“fuck you always drive me crazy.” he buried his face into your side, peppering the skin with small kisses and kitten licks.

he reached your collarbone, slowly taking the skin with his teeth as he engraved his mark on it. you whined, your toes curling as he continued his ministrations.

“lay back baby, you’re in for a long afternoon.” he mumbled, slowly inching your t-shirt over your head.

you smiled, stomach churning in anticipation for what’s to come.

—

you both spent a lazy afternoon in the hotel room, after a good hour of some much needed intimacy, you both laid on the bed. naked and tangled with each other as you both stared at the waves through the wide window.

chan's hand traced small patterns on your thigh as he laid with his chest to your back, face on your shoulder and he would randomly press a kiss or two in between talks.

"im so happy we came here. this is a much needed break." you sighed, feeling extremely content.

your skin, in contact with his burning one, your legs tangled in a spiderweb broken free, your hearts beating together in rhythm as you heard it through your connected bodies.

“and this is just the beginning. we have the beachside dinner planned right?” he playfully pinched your thigh, making you yelp in surprise.

“chan!” you chastised him, pinching his hand back in he process and his loud holler made you crack a wider smile. “yes, i cant wait for the dinner! we’ll take a walk and spend some time at the sunset and eat at the shore!” you added, eyes widening in excitement.

“of course baby girl.” chan supplied, kissing your cheek swiftly.

"well, remember when we'd discussed our wishlists? last year in fall when we had that situation of getting lost while looking for a cafe?" chan moved back, bringing his hand up to your arm and raised his head.

you turned a little, facing him diagonally. "of course, you drove us around the same area for two hours!" you chuckled and he mirrored the joy on your face.

his phone rang, breaking the small bubble as it's incessant tone cut through the peaceful air. chan frowned, making an apologetic face. "i know baby, i said no work but i'm very sorry. i'll just take this one. it's very important."

you smiled, reaching up to peck his lips once. "its okay babe, take your time. i'll just sleep a little, i think i'm a little tired."

"oh know, did i tire you out?" he smirked, eyes wiggling suggestively as he mentioned your activities from earlier and you poked his chest in mock anger.

"go! attend your call!"

__

it was well over two hours and chan hadn’t returned. you frowned, running a hand over your hair as you checked the time. your hair was dripping wet, you were in the bathrobe, fresh out of a shower.

you’d slept, eaten and bathed. chan was still nowhere to be seen.

aside from the hurried text he’d sent you about two hours ago

“i’m sorry baby girl, got caught up. how about you just meet me at the beach itself? at eight?”

you couldn’t ignore the pang of sadness that spread through like a burst balloon inside your heart. he’d promised. he promised that he’d make this getaway all about relaxing and focusing on your anniversary but here he was- spending hours on a work call on a trip with his girlfriend.

you checked the time with a sad pout and saw that only thirty minutes were left to eight. deciding to be understanding once more, you prepared to get ready for the dinner. chan did love his work after all, who were you to take away one of the source happiness?

“it’s okay. we all have shit to take care of.” you told yourself, humming in between to the song playing on the tv.

rummaging through your suitcase, you finally spotted the navy sundress that chan had gifted you. it was wavy, float and light- perfect for a night at the beach, especially with the the way that the blue complimented the darkness of the night. one of his ultimate favourites on you, you decided that it was reason enough to wear it tonight. with a hopeful smile, you began getting ready for the night.

—

feet dipping in the sand, you walked in a pair of pretty flip flops that slapped your heels softly with each step.

the waves were softer now, dying a little before the edge that was littered with lights from faraway ships. the salty air hit you wonderfully well and the wind made your hair cover your face. you spluttered a strand of hair out of your mouth, chuckling silently at the windy weather and walked closer to the shore.

the water was a deep blue, mixed with hues of a pale white as it clashed and died down the shore. the pale yellow lights set on the beach from the resort bathed the land in a sandy glow and you couldn’t resist snapping a few pictures. these beautiful moments didn’t happen daily in life.

after a few seconds of revelling in peace to the sounds of crashing waves, you turned, walking to the beach restaurant where chan had promised you dinner.

you could hear faint violin playing as you neared the pretty lights and a big tent like structure was now visible to your eyes. your eyes widened as you realised what it was.

chan had set up a heavenly tent for you both on the beach. your steps quickened and you could see his back as he arranged some things on what you presumed was the table on which you would eat.

it was a tent covered with light strings and embellishments, making its beauty shine brighter than ever. the fabric was a mix of net and something like cotton, hiding and showing equal parts of what was inside.

“channie?” your lips moved softly and chan stopped his actions, turning around to see you.

a big smile broke out on his handsome face, your favourite dimples making an appearance as he took you in and moved to give you a hug.

“y/n! baby!” he pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you and you saw even more of what was inside the tent.

so this was what your boyfriend had been doing for the last two hours. you figured.

“chan what is this?” you smiled, breaking apart and holding his hands to show how happy you were with this.

“i promised you a beach side dinner didn’t i?” he smiled, pecking your lips before her gestured to the delicious plates of food laid out beautifully on the table.

“after you babygirl.” he put his hands on your shoulders, guiding you to the cushioned seat.

“this is honestly so beautiful chan- but you didn’t have to do all this just because-.” you began, turning around and running a hand over his chest but he stopped you.

“uh uh uh!” he tutted. “i wanted to babygirl, you deserve the best.” you kissed him once more, a little deeper this time and then broke apart with a huge smile.

“thank you so much. i mean it.” you whispered, hoping to let yo ur emotions across.

chan nuzzled his nose to your cheek, making you blush “anything for you y/n, let’s eat now!”

—

you both decided to take a walk down the shore after the wonderful dinner. hand in hand, you talked about every topic under the sun as the moonlight shine down on you.

the pale light bathed chan in a heavenly glow, making him look ethereal and you felt your heart twist in pain at how beautiful he was. his hand squeezed yours a little tighter as he found you staring at him.

“isn’t this wonderful?” he motioned to the night sky, the crashing waves and the empty beach with just the two of you in it. “perfect?”

“it’s amazing chan, it’s breathtaking. just like you.” you breathed, gazing at him with heart eyes.

he turned to you once more, holding both of your hands and squeezed one last time before leaving them alone.

he then sighed deeply, a deep color covering his cheeks as he nervously but his lip and fumbled through his pockets.

when his hand brought out a velvet box and he began getting down on one knee, you could swear you felt time stop.

chan, with his beautiful smile, stared up at you with hooded eyes. eyes filled with nothing but love for you.

your lips parted open, a hand covering your mouth in shock as tears began making their presence known.

“y/n, words cannot express the feelings i have for you in this moment. or ever will be enough to do so. my love for you is unmeasurable like it is the reason of my existence. i don’t think i’ll ever be enough for you, but i’ll try, i’ll try a dozen, thousand, million times till i can be perfect for you, my dear y/n because you deserve all the love in this world. so today, with my whole heart, i am asking you to marry me," he said, finally taking a pause and gulped.

you could see how nervous he was, afraid of messing it up but how do you tell this man that he already was enough? that you loved him and always will exactly the way he was? how do you tell him that he did not even have to ask you to marry him, for you knew living without him would be futile and you would jump ahead and marry him right this instant if you could.

these emotions, however, had a way of coming to light. in the form of a soft tear that fell down your cheek, making your vision blurry. chan smiled softly, asking to not cry as he continued.

“marry me, y/n. marry me and stay with me and never leave me, for I cannot bear another day of my life to go by that does not have you in it.” he finished, holding the ring up to you with a heart warming smile on his face.

the ring, oh the beautiful ring, with its simplicity and elegance was suited perfectly to your likings, piecing once again that chan knew you inside and out.

“chan i-.” your throat choked up and you had to swallow and wipe a stray tear before you kneeled down in front of him. because you both were equals, you were lovers and you would be the same for each other at all stages in life.

“so is it a yes?” he chuckled shyly, his awkward laugh tickling your ears and you laughed through your emotions.

“of course you doofus! of course i will marry you! yes i will!” you smiled happily, pointing your hand out to him and he swiftly slipped the ring on.

“i love you.” you said and he smiled. grazing one hand over your cheek as he moved closer to you and captured your lips in a heart searing kiss.

“i love you too.” he mumbled in between intense kisses, kisses that we’re feeling in now and stealing your breath away.

“chan-.” you leaned back a little, resting your forehead on his.

“yes babygirl.” he panted, breathless for the deep kiss.

“make love to me.” you muttered almost breathlessly and the dark look in his eyes had you melting into his hands.

“your wish is my command baby girl, i’ll make love to you right here.” he whispered, getting up and hoisted you in a bridal pose, walking back to the tent.

“i’ll make love to you right here near the shore and make you mine under the stars, under the moonlight.” he whispered, entering the tent with his warm eyes still set on yours.

you could feel your heart beating like a crazy outlaw, threatening to consume you whole as your blood thrummed through your vessels, making your body tingly and weak for the man in front of you.

the love in both of your eyes was enough to bring down an empire and the desire to feel the love under the stars was another gift you both were submitting to each other that night.

chan slowly laid you down on the covered ground, his face filled with adoration for you.

your slightly teary eyes never left his as you traced your hands over his face, the curly bangs, the beautiful under eye bags that were a result of his late night hard work, his smooth cheek and the beautiful nose that was carved by angels themselves.

when you reached his lips, he slowly parted them, letting you touch them to your hearts content before you leaned in, making him groan at the intensity with which you kissed him.

“y/n, god, baby girl.” he mumbled with swollen lips. leaning back as he caressed your face. “you’re so beautiful.” and then he stole another kiss, like he stole your breath, your heart and your soul.

his hands worked their way on your burning body like you were a piano and he was a musician extraordinaire. like an artist that knew each and every chord like the back of his hand, chan knew your body like a second nature.

he progressed his kisses down to your neck, making you angle your head as you bit your lips in pleasure. his marks on you were your favourite, and he knew that. it was such a carnal desire, this wild liking in your as he proved you to be his. for everyone to see later on.

you gasped as chan’s teeth skimmed over that one area that only he knew could bring you to your knees. “channie.” you whispered, hands tugging at his soft yet rough hair and he finished his artwork, looking up at your hooded face.

“yes babygirl? do you want me to touch you?” he asked, his voice unbearably soft as he addressed what you wanted.

you nodded. a little too enthusiastically and a smug grin rested on his plump lips as he began undoing your top, letting the laces fall open and helped you out of it.

his eyes widened as he took your bra covered chest in, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “fuck you’re so perfect. i’ve seen you a billion times yet you still blow my mind away.” he growled before attaching his lips to your cleavage and sucked on the subtle outline of your breasts.

you threw your head back, hands tugged at his shirt, silently begging him to take it off. he chuckled, lips still at your chest before he leaned back, letting you open the buttons and throw it down aside.

your eyes greedily took the handsome man in, glossing i’ve over every inch of his beautiful skin as your hand came up to touch his body. he smiled, nodding to encourage you as you traced a hand over his abs and he took in a deep breath when you grazed his nipples.

without any warning, you leaned forward, licking the indents of his abs and he hissed, letting air out through his teeth. “oh babygirl…”

“channie, you’re so perfect.” you mumbled, almost in pain at the sheer beauty of the man in front of you.

he stared at you, almost in awe as he curled a finger. “come here.” was all he said before he pulled you by your cheeks and kissed you once more, this time his hands busy at your lower.

he undid the zip in one go as you helped him take your pants off. “lie back babygirl, let me take care of you.” he broke the kiss, going back slowly as he moved lower down your body.

legs tingling in anticipation, you let him spread them apart. his kisses resumed at your inner thigh, his fingers trailing dangerously close to your core.

“chan…” you complained, in a loud whine as he obviously delayed what you wanted.

he grinned, his lips ghosting your panty covered pussy. “patience babygirl, i intend to cherish this tonight. make it worth your while.” he pressed a kiss and you almost whined like a bunny in heat.

“so lie back and let me worship you.” he mumbled, his fingers now slipping the fabric aside.

cold air hit your folds and you shivered at the contact, almost clenching your thighs shut but chans hands held them apart.

“babygirl you look, ravishing.” he almost growled, an animalistic desire clouding his eyes as he leaned in.

a long, wet strip over your core had you opening your mouth in soundless pleasure. his fingers soon followed, dragging their way up and down your clit and labia in turns as chan admired his favourite woman.

“chan, feels so good.” you mewled when chan pushed one finger in, stretching you out a little.

“oh yeah?” he added another one in, now moving them back and forth to create a rhythm.

he rocked them back and forth as you felt a familiar build up in your stomach. when he added another in, you could swear you felt the stars already.

and then, nothing.

he retraced his fingers back and you opened your eyes to protest but then then you felt a long, wet lick on your labia and your sounds turned to little cries of pleasure.

your hand worked into chan’s hair, holding them tight as his mouth worked wonders on you. his thumb came up, flicking your clit for good measure and you felt your heart burst from the sinful desire gripping you.

“fuck babygirl, you always taste so delicious. fucking delectable.” he groaned, lips smushed against your pussy and you bit your lip.

the growing thunder in you was now thrumming benetah your skin, the need to be let out shining out in the form of sheer pleasure. you felt your skin heat up further as you chased your orgasm.

“chan-chan i’m close-.” you forced out, you were too dazed to talk properly than even think about forming a proper sentence.

“good, cum babygirl, cum for me.” chan hummed, tongue curling in and out as he ate you out like a man starved.

your hands gripped his head in what would’ve been a very painful hold, but chan didn’t seem to mind as he quickened his pace. making you finally reach that high and you released all over his tongue. he lapped it all up, holding your quivering thighs as you whined in extreme pleasure.

the mix of the sounds of the shore and the crashing waves, the combinations of your and chan’s laboured breathing was almost too perfect to be real.

you opened your eyes, breathing deeply from recovering from your orgasm as chan smiled deviously at you.

“that good huh?” he smirked, softly massaging your thighs.

“the best-.” you choked out, still worked up. however, your hands had moved to his pants, the obvious bulge making you lick your lips as and chan smiled as he let you undo his belt and zip down his trousers.

“you look so gorgeous like this.” he mumbled, caressing your hair as you lowered down his boxers, letting his cock spring free.

it almost made you whine out an embarrassing cry but you held back, letting your hands cover it. chan threw his head back, loving the feel of your hands on his but then he put a hand on your shoulder, making you lie down back again.

“tonight is for you love, it’s solely for your pleasure.” he softly kissed your lips, settling between your thighs once more.

a couple strokes on his cock and he was positioned right before your pussy, your hands were at his back, toes curling in pleasure as he teased the tip on your opening.

“fuck, chan, stop teasing.” you whined, grabbing at his back and at your words, he slowly slipped inside.

you opened your mouth, basking in the feeling of being stretched out by his lovely cock. chan let out a few curses, stopping once he’d entered you properly and waited for a second before sliding back and in again.

“you take me so well babygirl, you look so gorgeous like this underneath me-.” lewd curses slipped from his tongue as he fucked you slowly, eyes neve leaving yours as he did so.

his pace quickened, hips bucking into yours with a greater urgency and you felt the knot grow again. this time even higher in presence. you bit your lip, staring at chans face twisted in pleasure at sweat formed at his forehead.

he brought a hand up, pulling your bottom lip away. “let me hear you babygirl, let me hear your pretty sounds as i make you feel my love.” he whispered, kissing you as you both chased your highs.

you let out a loud moan as he thrusted particularly deep, and slipped out completely before hitting that one spot with a force that had your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

“chan i’m close-.” you mumbled, hands tracing his back as his caressed your cheeks.

“can you cum with me babygirl?” he spluttered, his words hurried and his thrusts sloppier as he almost came.

“uh hmm..fuck you feel so good chan.” you nodded.

“can i cum inside you?” he questioned, his face contorted in painful pleasure as his sweat dripped over his forehead.

“uh hmm, god yes, please cum inside me. please fill me up with you.” you moaned, a high pitched whined leaving you as chan came with a huge shudder and warm liquid filled you up.

you cried out in pleasure as you came and chan held you through it, hands never leaving you as he breathed down your neck.

“babygirl, fuck that was-.” he panted. leaning up in exhaustion as he stared at your fucked out state.

“perfect.” you completed for him, hooking your arms around his neck and pulling him close. he smiled into the kiss and leaned back with a satisfied grin.

“i love you.” he whispered, nuzzling his nose to yours.

the cool air of the night, the lapping waves and the beautiful night sky covered with stars. chan here with you, in this moment, vulnerable and bare with you as you both touched and loved each other in the most connected way possible. it was all too beautiful. and it would be yours, forever.

a small tear of joy escaped down your eyes and chan wiped it away, his eyes filled with nothing but pure love for you.

“i love you too channie.” you smiled, eyes staring at the love your life, with the stars above you and, you both- with stars in your eyes for each other.

“i still need to pee though, don’t get too comfortable.” you tutted, pushing away his warm figure lightly.

“just one minute please.” lips pressed against your shoulder, his voice came out muffled.

you chuckled, throwing his arm off your shoulder as you tried to collect your dress. “i’ll be back in a minute and then we can cuddle all you want chan.”

—

a/n- one beach trip and this happens. blame chan and his perfectness. and also the beautiful beach.

unedited.

tags- @dreamescapeswriting

[summerofspock]

Hi! I love Mark of the Serpent and am so excited for the story!

I hate to ask, but will there be an update soon? Anticipation is killing me!

xoxoxo

Hello!!! Im so glad youre enjoying it. I totally understand why you might be a bit more edge of your seat-y on this one than some of the others I've posted given the pacing and tone and general brilliance that @naromoreau brings to the table. But I was actually thinking about making a post about some writing troubles I've been having.

Its no secret I'm prolific and a frequent poster. I enjoy writing and the process, the nail biting, the editing, the kvetching. However, I hit upon something recently I'd liken to a writing injury (I wish I could find the post that explains this phenomenon but tumblrs search feature sucks) which has made writing somewhat painful for me. Imagine spraining your ankle but your favorite hobby is running 5k every morning so you keep doing it. Does that help the injury? Of course not. It just makes everything worse.

That all is to say Naro and I have about 80k of Mark of the Serpent written. It needs a LOT of editing and I'm...trying my best to keep at it but it is slow going. It helps to have a co writer but theres no set schedule at this time.

Our goal is before Halloween!

[hyunnows]

1:36 a.m. | scb

PAIRING(S): Changbin x reader

RATING: g

WORD COUNT: .5k+ / 525

CONTENT/WARNING(S): fluff, established relationship, dancing together all romantically

SUMMARY: Inspired by Thomas Rhett's Die A Happy Man

SKZ TAGLIST (+): @hyunjun-jpeg @geniejunn @koroleva--rezni @jannine00742 @im-questioning-my-existence @sunshinelixie-lee @mythicalamphitrite @minspalette @koovvie @felix-neverbad @danihow @lolalee24 @kookthief

A/N: revamping old drafts/works again haha! also this is dedicated to my Changbin biased sister who will never read this <3 thank you to my beta @luvseos so much for reading this over for me, 🥰! i hope you all enjoy and have a great day/night!

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Changbin grinned softly as he cuddled your sleeping figure closer to him, loving how the sun reflected on your hair and skin. Thinking of how he got your beautiful self in his arms, it made his heart flutter. Who wouldn't be happy waking up to your gorgeous face every day?

It made absolutely no sense to him how he ended up lucky enough to get you all to himself, to be able to see all your sides, even the hidden ones. He loved how brave, strong and goofy you were, but also how you were smart and adapted to whatever situation you were in so quickly.

But what he loved most was how you loved him. Always trying to make him blush—keeping him on his toes. You always knew how to make him feel better when he was down and hype him up until he wanted to break his bones. How could one person make his moods do a complete one-eighty?

He was a dreamer, sure, and always had high hopes and big plans. Yet, sometimes you could make him want to drop all his fame and glory just so he could lay in bed holding you tightly to his chest day morning long.

Changbin just loves taking you out to dinner. He not only got to spend 1080p quality time with you, but watching you choose your outfits was what really made him weak.

Strutting out of the bathroom in your red dress—he could feel his knees buckle, he had to rely on the bed frame for support to stand.

"Alright Bin, I'm going to try the black one now," you smile confidently, anticipating his next reaction and satisfied with your current one.

Then, he stopped breathing. Pretty—no, lovely—no, stunning? You were indescribable and definitely perfect, if it was possible to even be that amazing. Feigning an oblivious face at his reaction, you blushed and wiggled around in the magnificent dress, heels clicking as you walked over to him.

"How do I look?"

Damn you, and being so hot and adorable at the same time! It wasn't fair to him! He couldn't even imagine you looking this great on his own—it was too incredible.

Forget the damn dinner, let somebody else have his reservation. You could cook better anyway, and nobody else was going to be able to see you in this number. This was only for him tonight, and however long you decided to love him.

Besides, what was the point of the beautiful house he'd bought if you weren't going to spend time in it?

Cranking up a slow song from his old cassette player, he grabbed your hands and waist, leading you to the magnificent living room, with a perfect spot for dancing.

He didn't need all the riches and fame he had, all the luxury. No amount of money or type of car was enough to come close to you. All he needed was for you to be with him.

"This is the perfect moment to be the last thing I experience..." He mumbled into your hair, eliciting a gentle giggle from you.

"But then we wouldn't finish our dance."

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