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saiidahyunie · 3 months

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ballroom extravaganza

minatozaki sana x f!reader || cont. of fake and true ! pt.3 here

synopsis: you scored the date with the girl from the bar, things are shaping up for the better (maybe/maybe not), and your cousin mina is starting to raise some suspicions.

warnings: fluff ; smut!! ; sana giving/recieving ; reader recieving/giving ; fucking in the car/office/bedroom (freaky deaky) :D ; sana being needy ; sana praising ; cursing ; anything else i didn't let y'all know ; might be proofread

a/n: dang y'all really like sana don't ya? (bias wrecking me ill never recover) hope you guys enjoy this second part as much as the first one!

you’re basically jumping out of your own skin when you hear the knock on your door, and twirl around to see the bedside clock.

8:29

a minute early. you’d be impressed to keep the hefty lunch in your stomach to not vomit it out.

“coming!” you cry out, before taking a second to fuss with your current appearance. you played it simple, the flashiest part of the red dress that shuhua loaned you. like the black one, it’s slim-fitting and short, the neckline cutting above the swell of your breasts. your lips are a stained deep red, just to match. tzuyu always said to you that the color was striking for you to pull off.

after straightening the dress, you step out of your room and walk towards the entryway of the door, taking a second to toe on your black pumps. and then, with a steady exhale, you open the door.

sana stands on the other side of it, one hand in her pocket of your black slacks and the other carrying a bouquet of roses that she promptly shoves at your chest. you take them, cradling to your body, and look up to find her already gazing at you, eyes raking from the top of your head and down. again and again.

“hey.”

“hi.” you smile at her. “these are really beautiful, thank you.”

sana jerks her head in acknowledgement, and you can see the faintest flush of pink spreading to the tips of her ears. you bite your lip as you set the flowers down, staving off the rare urge to giggle.

she’s still standing by the door, holding her arm out. “so are you ready to go?”

you take it, curling a hand around her bicep, letting her lead you out. “please.”

—

“alright,” sana says, laying her menu flat on the table, staring at you with grave seriousness. “speak.”

“huh?” you look away from the giant, crystal chandelier hanging above you two. the restaurant she’d take you to was only slightly less fancier than the one at the four seasons hotel.

slightly.

“i can tell you want to say something.”

you smile nervously. “yeah, about your driving, maybe. i thought we were gonna—”

“y/n.” she says firmly; it has the same affect as dumping a bucket of ice water over your head. “no bullshit. you might as well say what you wanna say.”

“fine.” and this is easy to sink into, your mode of no-nonsense: the compartmentalization of what stresses you. “why did you give me the money?”

“because i wanted to.”

“i know, but why? did you feel bad for me?”

“a little.”

you grit your teeth. “did you pity me?”

“no.”

“then what?”

“i’ve been in your position before. kind of.”

“what do you mean.”

“struggling college student, a shitty job, caming from harebrained ways to get money. everyone who’s gone on the path to grad school, doesn’t matter if it’s med, law, blah blah blah whatever, knows how fucking hard it is to survive.”

your cheeks flush from sana’s words, picking at the white table cloth. “so you empathized with me?”

“basically.” sana says, sitting back in her chair, smiling at you. your eyes follow along the lazy draw of it. “i didn’t expect you to be so difficult about it.”

“it’s not like it’s common to give strangers hundreds of dollars within an hour of meeting them. forgive me for being concerned.”

“do you still want to give the money back to me?” sana asks.

“yes.”

“okay. then let’s change the subject.” diverting to the basic cookie cutter icebreaker in existence. “what are you majoring in?”

“sana—”

she reaches across the table and grabs your hand, squeezing it slightly. dazzling brown eyes swallow up your field of vision as she leans into you. “what are you majoring in?”

you bite your tongue. you don’t want to relent into sana’s charms; mina would have your head if she knew that sana was running away with it. but she’s making it so so easy, smiling when you answer, “i’m finishing up my bachelor’s in child education. aiming to get my masters in child’s psychology.”

“you like kids?”

“yeah,” you reply, visibly softening to sana. “last summer i did my internship at a local kindergarten and i love it. kids are…easy in a way that people aren’t.”

“what do you mean?”

“they don’t expect anything from you. not anything beyond food or water or playtime. you know, nothing super sophisticated or adult. and they’re easy to talk to. they don’t care what you say to them or if you don’t talk much in general. they’re not judgy and it’s nice.” you hit that right out of the ballpark, and sana stares with lips parted as the facts are laid out for you.

“i’ve never thought about them that way,” she says, her hand shifting atop your own. her thumb skims across your knuckles. “it sounds nice.”

your heart thrums like a hummingbird against the walls of your chest. every languid caress pulls a shiver from you. “you don’t like kids?”

“i don’t dislike them. i’m neutral, i guess. i know i’d like to have my own.” sana replies.

“do you have any siblings?”

“nope. i’m an only child.”

“i would’ve never guessed,” you say dryly.

“ha! has anyone told you you’re funny?” sana inquires, and you’re stifling a laugh while she’s smiling at you, gaze fond. “what about you?”

“well, i’m an only child.” you reply. normally you’d leave it at this. you don’t really like the notion of getting into the nitty-gritty of your past, but sana’s presence robs any reticence from you. “my parents passed when i was younger so i was raised by my aunt and her cousin.”

“oh.” sana slips her fingers into the spaces of your own and squeezes gently again. “i’m so sorry.”

“it’s okay,” you say, smiling awkwardly. “it happened when i was little. i’m kind of accustomed to it now.”

“can i ask you a question?”

“a personal one?”

the corner of sana’s mouth quirks. you want to trace it with your fingers.

“if you were in that desperate of a situation, why didn’t you ask her for help?”

“i can’t afford to take any money from my aunt or cousin. she can’t afford it.”

“did you try asking?”

“i’m not saying she would’ve said no. but if she tried, i wouldn’t have accepted it.”

“sounds startlingly familiar.”

you pull your hand from hers with a smile and an eye roll before picking up the menu in front of the table, raising it up high enough to cover sana’s face.

“can we order something now?”

—

when you get back in the car, you’re warm, languid with a stomach full of risotto and red wine. sana’s hand rests on the gear shift between you, the other one on her wheel. you like watching the motion of them as she drive, like the curls of sana’s knuckles and the rasp her palm makes against the wheel when she turns it. you wish to feel the warmth of it against your leg.

well, in a city like new york, it’s nothing more than unpleasant.

“you know i wasn’t kidding when i told you that you’re a horrible driver.”

“do you own a car, y/n?”

“i usually take the subway.”

“okay. pro-tip if you ever do drive in these streets, better to be offensive than dead. or stuck in traffic for two hours. which, believe it or not, is fucking worse.”

but despite sana’s words, she seems to listen to you. the drive stretches longer, and you lean into the plush leather seats as you stare out the window, dreading the sight of every familiar building, the street signs that you know lead to your apartment. for a moment, you debate asking to get ice cream, or go to the park, a movie theater–-anything and everything to extend this. you don’t want to leave the pleasant warmth of her car.

“y/n?”

you look over to see her smile. “i thought you were asleep.”

“i’m not tired.”

she takes her hand off the gear shift, thumbs a lock of your hair without breaking your gaze. unwavering.

“neither am i.”

when she pulls into your squat, little apartment complex, you’re gripping the edge of your seat, nails squeaking against the buttery leather. she smoothly pulls into an empty space, parking backwards—what a show off—-before turning to you. with as huddled into the seat as you were, her hand is behind the headers, arm bracketing you, you feel consumed. surrounded by her scent, in her car, the engine humming beneath them, with her so close. you can’t breathe without inhaling her.

sana’s noticed it too. her eyes have gone dark, swallowed by her pupils.

“i had fun,” she says.

“me too.”

her mouth twitches. “you gonna try giving me the money back now?”

you jolt at the reminder, bending to snatch you purse, but sana’s hand flies from her headrest to your hand, hot over your knee.

“i was kidding. i don’t want it back. i don’t need it.”

“sana—”

“y/n.” she interrupts firmly. “i don’t need it. and in my opinion, i think you can do a hell of a lot more.”

your defenses waiver before they crumble completely, and you feel your chin wobble. to your horror. “you’re too nice to me.”

she grabs it, pressing her thumb into the plush of your bottom lip. your stomach clenches as sana’s eyes flicker down, anticipation making your headlight.

“i don’t think i’m nice enough,” she whispers, but it barely registers. you’re already reaching for her, mouth open to beg; hand on her wrist, and she meets you half-way, swallowing your muted please.

sana’s kiss is desperate, intense like the rest of her. one hand buried in your hair while the other presses against your knee, a searing, overbearing heat that sinks into your insides, coiling tingly in the pit of your gut. despite your furious protestations to tzuyu, you haven’t felt this in a while, the wet-warmth of another mouth against your own, the life of someone else’s tongue, opening you up further.

you press closer, so frantic you almost climb over the armrest, but sana pushes you back down to your seat. she breaks away from your mouth to kiss down the line of your throat, flicking her tongue out to taste your overheated skin, smiling when you sigh. your hips jerk beneath her hold when she sucks at your pulse point.

she grins, teeth nipping at your jawline. “you like that, sweetie?”

there’s a shock-wire running from the heat of her mouth to her clit. sana’s barely touched you and you’re already keyed-up, on the cusp of euphoria. if you touched yourself now, you’d be so far gone, but you’re not sure she’d let you.

sana returns to kissing your throat, pausing to suckle at it with teeth and tongue, laving it against your skin in soft, wet strokes. she uses the hand in your hair to tilt your neck towards her, directing you like a puppet on strings. her other hand roves up and down your exposed thigh in gentle motions, more exploratory than anything, as if she can’t keep from touching you. and the thought sends a jolt of electricity to pass through you, sparking between your legs. it makes your hips can’t, makes the desperate need for friction a burying, voracious thing, primed to consume you.

when she kisses the swell of your bottom lip, it comes out of you in a breathless pant, nails biting the seat. “p-please touch me.”

“where?” sana asks, thumbing the hem of your dress, close enough to be a physical pain. “where, baby? here?”

“n-no.”

“then where, y/n?” your eyes are black, eager with predatory intent, and you hate how much you love it; the consuming weight of her attention, like she wants to eat you whole.

without much coronation, you take sana’s hand and shove it between your thighs, spreading them wide. you’re initially afraid that she’ll keep teasing you, that she’s lost in the power trip, but she surprises you when she groans and kisses you roughly, fingers tracing up your slit.

“so fucking wet you are,” sana raps when she breaks away, almost crazed. she dips her hand beneath the waistband of your panties, the sensation of her fingers against your sensitive skin sending your eyes rolling. your hips buck, demanding delicious friction, and she surges in, laughing into your mouth.

“you can cum just like this, can’t you?” she asks, voice rumbling against your cheek. her thumb slides up and down the seam of your cunt, the heel of her palm adding the barest pressure to your clit, but it’s good. the mere taste of it almost enough to send you over the edge, just for the sweet torture.

her knuckles pull against the gusset of your panties as two of her fingers center over your clit. her pace at first is light, slow, exploratory like the way it’d been on your leg. her eyes on your face are focused. she wants to know what’ll take you to the edge, and you know it isn’t this. so you grab sana’s wrist and raise your hips to force pressure.

“faster,” you pant, liquid gaze cutting to her. “h-harder. i like it–”

she steals the words from you, kissing again with a mouth full of bite. the motions of sana’s fingers quicken, slide down to the tease of your e trance while you grind frantically into her palm. you’re so wet you easily accept the glide of her first finger, and when she pushes in the second, the stretch is sweet, a welcome thing. you thrust onto them, wishing vainly that she’d toss you into the backseat and fuck you with something more.

the thought makes you clench around her, and she curses loudly, burying her face into your sweaty neck.

“are you always this depsrate when you’re getting fucked?” sana hisses, thrusting her fingers into you harder, without relent. “you always feel this good?”

you choke out a sob, feeling the familiar swoop in your belly, the swelling tide that welcomed euphoria. as you clutch her wrist, chasing it, sana rests her head atop your shoulder, her voice going soft, reverent.

“you’re so good, y/n,” she says in a frantic stream, mad with want. “so good. so, so fucking good. my perfect girl.”

you keen when it washes over you, that white-hot heat that robs you of sense. you shudder beneath sana’s grip, clutching her wrist as you ride it out. she helps you come down from it, kissing you languidly and keeping her pace inside you slow. when you can breathe again, she pulls them out of you. you flush hotly when she sticks her fingers in her mouth, but the embarrassment doesn’t linger long. you surge toward her, hands flying towards the button of her pants. meets her in another frantic kiss.

“i wanna make you feel good now,” you whisper, palming her. “i want—”

sana uses her hand in your hair to bind you up against her and kisses you again, long and full enough to make the words melt from your tongue. you’re hazy when she pulls away, pliant.

“i think,” she says. “that there’s always next time.”

“next time?”

“next time,” sana repeats, rubbing your cheek with her thumb. “it’s late anyway. you should go to bed.”

“oh,” you say blankly. “okay.”

sana kisses you again, twice on your nose, before leaning over to open your door. you stumble out of her car, binding your purse tight against your chest. you wave at her from the entrance of her building before you step inside, and see the shadow of sana’s hand as she waves back, driving off. when she turns onto the street, you rush inside, a hot, sharp balloon swelling in your chest.

your hands shake when you slot the key into your door and turn the knob, switching on the lights. you kick your shoes off and toss the purse onto the couch, moving on muscle memory. you can’t think beyond the warm, floaty haze that’s clouded your mind, and when you shut the door behind you, you laugh.

over and over. carelessly. all the while remembering the firm grip of sana’s hand and the scent of her, clogging your nose even now, a smell you want to bottle up and keep.

next time, you think, giddy, nearly dancing in the small space. she said there’d be a next time.

just then, you hear the high trill of your phone and dart to the couch, yanking open your purse to fish it out. you flush a pink when you notice the notification next to sana’s name– a text that reads, goodnight- and as you go to type your response, another notification pops up. one from venmo.

a cold spike of adrenaline shoots through you when the app opens, fingers trembling. you almost drop your phone entirely at the number attached: $1,000 dollars.

“for school,” it reads.

your breath quickens. the hot balloon in your chest expands and expands until it pops, a physical pain against your ribcage.

i thought— your eyes burn. the realization sinks into your like molasses. i thought she—

the night you met sana, she expressed concern when she learned why you were there. she’d condemned jihyo and implied that you deserved something more, something better. she’d left you money as a gift, to be kind.

a gift, sana told you. you don’t owe me anything.

so why is it, then, that you have the distinct impression that jihyo had been simply outbid.

—

you’re thinking about next time. sana said that there’d be a next time.

that next time would come, then twice.

then a third.

and after.

the day after that, and the day even after that.

the room is reverberating the echoes around you, loud with the sounds of heavy pants and wet slaps of skin. you’re clinging to the sheets beneath you, pushing yourself up, moving your hips to meet the frantic pace of sana's fingers curled up inside you. sana then buries a hand into your hair and hitches you up for a kiss that never takes. it’s broken quickly, leaves both of your swollen mouths parted and breathing of each other’s oxygen. you’re relishing the intimacy of the moment.

when the building pressure at the base of your stomach grows to become too overwhelming, you fall back on the mattress, unmoored without sana’s presence, but she follows you as she always does. she’s binding her arm around your waist and raises you up, hand cupping your cunt while she’s all over your neck again.

“c’mon,” sana says, voice wrecked, torn from her. “c’mon, honey, one more.”

you gave sana the opportunity to sit on her face earlier, brown eyes flashing dark and predatory at you while you grind all over her mouth. the hot curl of her tongue relentless against you, reducing you to a living nerve ending. sana wrung out two splintering orgasms out of you, flipping you on your back before you could even recover. you loved it, and you still do, seeing all the ways that you can challenge sana.

her slender fingers dip down to your clit again and causes you to moan loudly, rocking into her as she circles it firmly: rough, fast motions that she’s learned that you love. to bring you back to that edge quick.

sana kisses you again, her other hand slipping to your breast above and squeezing. she’s groaning into your core, it’s making you fall deeper into the madness of your situation.

“you’re so—” she barely mumbles out, her hand on your breast slides down to clamp the divot in your hips. sliding the pillow under the arch of your back in one seamless motion. she’s too good with her hands. “fucking unreal, and perfect.”

her mouth against your other mouth starts the chain reaction. you’re moaning out more strain behind it. a star-burst of affection igniting in your chest. sana continues to swipe her tongue, the unyielding pressure that makes your vision swimmy, and you let go.

you’re sobbing out while your hands are trying to find what’s left of the comforter as ecstasy steals over you. sana continues to drive her fingers and tongue into you, letting you feel it: in the air, at the base of your throat, between the rapid, uneven pacing of thrusts from her fingers. when you’re all tuckered out, the clenching fading out from your cunt, soaked with slick while it gets on different parts of your skin; from the leg, to one of your obliques, to the small peak of your boob.

“o-okay, that’s e-enough.”

“you taste so fucking good,” sana murmurs, mouth hot against the column of your neck. her hands trailing up and down your stomach. “when you clench around my fingers is just—”

fucking shit this woman. “sana, please.”

she sits up with a chuckle, and you’re at the same level too, instantly resting your head on her shoulder, kissing it. sana wraps her arm around your waist, kissing the top of your head, her fingers are tapping away at the v-line. you look up and she kisses you, grinning with delight.

“will you stay over?” you ask, too plaintive when she pulls away. sana’s smile falters and you feeling the realization, disappointment inbound.

“i can’t.” a spike lances through you. “my department has a meeting early in the morning. i can’t skip.”

“oh.” you hate yourself for being upset—she’s a doctor, of course she’s busy—but the feeling rises up anyway, along with the insidious notion that she’s gotten what she wanted and so has little use for you now. without thinking, you start to drift away from sana in slow little increments that she catches, and she pulls you up tight against her, pressing her lips to your hairline.

“i wish i could say,” sana whispers. “if it were up to me, i’d be here with you everyday.”

the words are cruel, considering what they are–what you are—but the pain is stamped down. masking it with teasing. “how would you work then?”

“i’m sure my supervisor could find someone else to fill my place. someone as equally ecstatic to dig their hands into some guy’s intestines.”

“you’re so…casual when you talk about your job.” you say out of respite.

“are you worried?” sana asks.

“no.” answering while tracing fingers across sana’s chest, over her still-racing heart, before tapping her chin. “but it makes me wonder if i should be.”

“is the child psychology major going to psychoanalzye me right now? when i’m twenty-nine years old nearing thirty?”

“you know the issues of childhood can be far-reaching. you never stop feeling the effects of it.”

“incredible.” you laugh when sana dips her head and takes your finger in her mouth, biting it gently. “but i’ve always been this way.”

“which is?”

a half-feral grin spreads across sana’s face before she abruptly flips you over. you yelp into her mouth as she kisses you, long and slow, and settles over you. she breaks away, still grinning. “crazy about you.”

you’re flushing hotly, which makes her bark out a delighted laugh, and sana kisses you again. over and over and over. her lips trail from your fluttering eyelids to the tip of your nose to your chin, every nook and cranny of your face that she can reach. when her lips meet yours again, you can taste the sugar on her tongue.

“god, i wish i could stay,” sana rasps, breaking away, and you cling onto her.

“then stay.”

“if i did, i’d have to leave at 5 to get ready at my apartment in order to be at the hospital on time. also you have an early class tomorrow. chances are i’d wake you up and you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep.”

your jaw tightens, and teeth catch your tongue. you don’t want to accuse sana of making excuses, because you know she’s right; it’s happened before. and that’s what burns you, the idea that your angst could have no standing. the operating off of your injured feelings and nothing substantial. this is transnational after all.

“okay.” you say, coolly. “guess this is goodbye then.”

“bye y/n.” sana says, kissing your mouth. “goodnight.”

sana kisses you several times, smothering you in affection. she only stops after you simple, nipping at your nose once before rising off the bed. you watch as sana peels away off the bed, walking around your room, picking up her clothes from the floor and pulling them on. when she’s done, she strides over to you and slides a nick of your hair back, kissing your forehead.

“i’ll call you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

“okay.”

sana ducks down, skating her nose along the edge of your hairline, keeping her mouth close to your ear. “i’ll see you later.”

you move your head and catch sana’s lips. against them, whispering. “mn, see you later.”

you notice with some satisfaction that sana’s eyes are fevered as she pulls away, dark with wanting, and you shove your face back into the pillow, clinging to it. sana mutters a soft curse and makes her way to the door, only to immediately jam the knob when she goes to close it. she mutters a curse again, much louder.

“just give it a little wiggle,” you say, sitting up. “it gets a little tight sometimes when you twist it.”

“how long has it been like this?”

“since i got the apartment.”

“what the fuck?!” sana exclaims. “did anything else come broken?”

“sometimes the water pressure in my shower is really low.”

“jesus christ, y/n.” sana says again, louder, angrier. “why haven't you told your landlord?”

“trust me, i have.” you say shrugging your shoulders. “if i said anything more than that he’d just shut off the water entirely.”

sana sounds pressed, jiggling the knob harder. “i’ll kill him then.”

“it’s really not that ba—”

“i’m coming back next week with a repairman,” sana interjects, tone brokering no argument. “i can fix the doorknob myself but i’ll get a plumber for the shower.”

you duck your head, embarrassed. “you really don’t have to do that, sana.”

“i want to,” she replies, eyes softening when she looks at you. “i don’t want you living in some shit-hole with no running water.”

“i have running water.”

“we’ll see what the plumber says.” and with that, sana gives up on fixing the jam and breezes past the doorway. a few seconds later, you can hear sana at the front door shut behind her. with a deep sigh, you fall back into the bed and reach for your pillow, thick with her scent, and curls around it to fall asleep.

in the morning, you wake up to a ten dollar venmo notification for coffee and the contact information of the plumber sana mentioned.

—

“why haven’t you got my calls or texts?” is the first question that mina asks when you answer the phone. you stifle a laugh.

“well, good to hear your voice mina.”

“you haven’t called me,” she says again. “is everything okay?”

you sigh and sink into your loveseat, socks skipping over the fractured leather. your fingers cradle the coffee mug. “nothing’s wrong.” you say. “i’ve been really busy.”

“with what?”

“school,” is what you reply with. “not sure if you’ve kept up, but i’m in my last year now. i’ve been getting most of the important work done as much as i can.” a second passes before you add, “and communication is a two-way street. you haven’t been calling me either.”

“busy with work.” is what mina says in defense.

“see?” you quirk, a sip of coffee passing through your mouth, tapping your fingers on your knee, waiting for mina to speak. neither of you are particularly verbose, so the shared calls usually play out like this: tense silence, quick updates, the voids that harbored resentment. but you’ve grown far from the desire of mina to be soft for you (she has, doesn’t want to admit it) and you’re just accustomed to the dispassion.

for the final question on the script: “do you need any money from me?”

“no, mina. i don’t need money from you or auntie.”

“i assume the tips are good at your job then?”

“even better.”

she hums, like this was real answer, saying, “if you ever need anything, call me.”

“you know it when i do.”

“okay then.”

mina hangs up with a click before the goodbye is even truly articulated on the tongue.

—

your ears perk up when a knock is heard on the door, moving from your kitchen to walk to the entrance. curious, you open it, only to be swept up into sana’s arms before you can even say hello. she kicks it shut behind her and pins you to the old wood, lips roving over your face.

“what—” she kisses your mouth twice in quick succession. “—are you doing here?”

“left the hospital for my lunch break,” sana breathes, hitching you up so that a leg is wrapped around her waist. she dips to suck your collarbone, mouth curling when she hears you mewl. “decided to come here.”

“d-did you eat?”

“no.”

sana’s hand slides up from the curve of your ass to your breast, squeezing gently. you moan softly, head thumping against the wood. “you—you should.”

she separates from your throat to shoot a sly grin. “i’d rather eat you out first.”

mindless, spurred by sana’s passion, you surge down to kiss her. tightening your legs around her, thighs squeezing as sana’s hand cups your clit. with every pass of the hand, you can feel the shift of your underwear, panties clinging.

sana buries her hand into your hair, yanking back to expose your throat. she ducks her head to you for another kiss, trailing her lips up and down the line, tongue darting out to taste. her other hand dips down to your ass to bind you up against her, rolling until your toes curl. you sigh and slide your hand into sana’s hair. it would be so easy to just cum from this, but you’d rather put sana’s mouth somewhere else.

you pull her up by her hair, stomach clenching at the naked want on sana’s face. her eyes, half-lidded and hazy, are trained on your open mouth. when you lick them, her thumb catches your bottom lip.

“please,” you gasp, moving against sana’s hips. arching. “we need to go to my—”

sana grins, almost madly, and kisses you hard enough to steal your breath. “what? you’re afraid your neighbors might hear me fuck you again?”

you blush hotly and sana laughs, but ultimately decides to appease you, heaving you off the wall. she seeks out your lips again and stumbles into the room. impatient, sana kicks open the door, heedless when it slams loudly into the wall.

you hardly notice also, giddy when sana pushes you onto the bed. it’s a race to get clothes off, pairs of hands fulmbling with the zippers and buttons until sana bats her pants away, you yanking your sweatpants off, meeting for another kiss as she lowers herself over you. you moan loudly when her fingers tease the opening between your legs, feeling the wetness in an instant.

“my god,” you sigh out, clinging to sana, blood burning beneath your skin; every movement a siren call to your own pleasure. “please, just—just touch me, sana.”

sana grins rakishly, eyes glittering with mirth. ever the eager observer to your own demise.

“you’re always so polite, sweetheart.” sana says, and moves down to kiss you. you yourself arch to meet her, pulse skittering at her proximity, at the heady invertibility of mindless pleasure, and—

the lights go out.

sana stills above you. at first, you’re surprised, waiting for them to flicker back on. this happens sometimes. i mean—the building is old as in 1920s red stone–faulty wiring and out-dated, but nothing comes to fruition.

“fuck,” you spitt, arousal plummeting to now nothing. you move from under sana. “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“what’s wrong?” sana asks. you rise from the bed and she follows you to the kitchen. you snatch a pile of envelopes from your counter to dig through them, only to stop when you notice that the lighting outside is too dim to see. you sigh heavily, marching over to your couch to read by the flickering candles. sana sits down beside you, eyeing cautiously. “what’s wrong?”

“the light bill,” you croak. “the rental agency upped the price recently but i must’ve paid the old amount without ven thinking. god, how could i be so stupid?!”

“you’re not stupid. don’t talk like that,” sana snaps. she then takes a deep breath, voice much calmer when she adds, “and this is an easy fix. if you pay it now, it’ll be back on in a few hours. this shit happens, y/n.”

“but i don’t–” have the money. you clench your jaw tight, forcing the words down, but sana can see the pain on your face, can hear it lingering in the air, unsaid.

“i’ll help you—” you shake your head; you don’t like this, the reminder—” let me help you.”

“no, sana.”

“it’s not a big deal. i want to.”

“i can’t ask you to—”

sana suddenly shifts closer and grabs your face, cupping it between her palms. she looks int your eyes, gaze probing.

“let me,’ she cajoles. “you don’t have to bear the burden of this all on your own. if i’m offering to help you, let me help you.”

your heart swells. with relief. with dismay. “okay.”

she pecks your lips before standing up, thumb trailing down your cheek. “where’s your laptop? if your account is set up online, i can pay it now. i still have about forty-five minutes until i have to get back so i can wait with you until then.”

“it’s on my desk.”

sana nods once, turning on her heel to march into your room. the second she’s out of sight, you bury your face into her hands, burning with shame.

—

right after class ends, your phone vibrates.

you pick it out of your pocket, thumb grayling over your cracked screen to see sana’s contact photo flashing up at you; it was the one taken three weeks ago, with her smiling while you pressed a kiss to her cheek. you’re clicking the green button.

“hello?”

“i just realized you’ve never been to my apartment,” sana says, surprising you. “we’ve been together for almost two months and you’ve never seen my house.”

“oh.” your cheeks flush, pulse skipping at together. “you’ve never really brought it up before.”

“like a fucking idiot. do you wanna come over?”

your body warms in a near–sudden response, to your eternal horror, and with a bite of your lip. “sure.”

“cool! i’ll pick you up right now.”

“you're not working today?”

“no. i worked eighty hours last week so they gave me a day off. i’m on call, though, which is shitty anyway.”

“i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine,” sana dismisses. “so you’re still on campus?”

“yeah. i just got out of class.”

“alright, i’ll be there in twenty.”

“okay. bye.”

“bye.” sana says, but lingers on the line. for a moment, you think she’s forgotten to hang up, and moves to do it for her until she adds, softly, cutely you might think.

“i’m excited to see you.”

your heart thuds, and she hangs up before you can even say something back.

for twenty minutes, you wait near the entrance of the school, fiddling with your phone until sana texts you to come meet her. finding the car quickly, walking towards the sleek, gray two–seater of her vintage mercedes, and opens the door to see sana grinning at you. a pair of dark sunglasses sit on the bridge of her nose.

“hi,” sana smiles.

“hi.” you say back, hating at how shy you still get around her, considering. sana, though, always appears to take a bit of pride to it.

she chuckles, leaning back in her seat and shifting the car into drive, pulling into the main road. you settle in to watch the hypnotic motion of her hands as she turns the wheel—it almost makes you nostalgic for some reason.

“so,” sana says, turning onto the street. “how was class?”

“fine. just sat through a lecture.”

“about?”

“well, just the study of psychosocial development of erickson. how the different stages can be embedded by sociological challenges. you don’t want to hear the rest from me.”

“ah.” you suck a smile in; seeing the cogs in sana’s brain turning. “sounds interesting.”

“it’s a lot to cover. my professor was telling us about how some guest speaker that’s gonna be presenting next month. apparently she specializes in existential psychotherapy so i’m thinking of seeing that when it comes.”

“that’s really cool. do you know the name?”

“no.” you appreciate the effort that sana is showing. elizabeth, as wonderful and cool she was, tended to block you out sometimes: on the occasion she ever needed to. “what about you? how was work?”

sana groans. “terrible. a guy was rolled in with a bullet wound and was hemorrhaging like crazy. i was able to stop the bleeding and get the bullet out, but the anesthesiologist almost od’d him and killed him. idiot.”

“wow,” you say. “is he okay now?”

“yeah. but i’m never having that dumbass with me at the table again.”

“you might have to, though. you’re a new doctor, sana, i don’t know if you have the luxury of writing off your co-workers.”

sana smirks. “i might.”

flicking the blinkers on, she turns on the road that leads them deeper into the upper west side. sana drives into a small parking lot behind a tall building before pulling into a space. once the car shifts into park and the keys are yanked out, you step out, mouth parting as you take in the veritable skyscraper in front of you.

“you live here?!”

“yeah,” sana says, taking your hand. seeing the stupefied expression, grinning and leading you inside. a red-headed doorman greets sana as you make your way across the lobby. the elevator didn’t even feel like an elevator and once you got past sana’s front door, you’re in full flabbergasted mode—eyes open like saucers. sana smiles at your gasp but when her eyes flicker to you they narrow.

“i thought it would be a penthouse of sorts.”

“trust me, it is but at the same time it isn’t.”

sana’s apartment may not be as lux as you initially thought, but it’s still nice regardless. you can tell that it was costly, dark furniture andwide, open spaces and tall windows. the walls are painted with a light grey. a flat-screen plasma tv hangs in her living room, mounted over a fireplace. the black velvet leather couch is in front of it, clearly brand new.

her voice echoes the walls. echoes. you’re left marveling. “are you hungry?” sana asks from the dining area, “i have some food from the other day.”

“what do you got?”

“some leftovers from this dimsum place, pretty good actually.”

you giggle. “i thought you would have a much more sophisticated diet to fall back on.” meeting her at the kitchen island while she opens the box of food, tossing a bite into her mouth while you’re scanning through the dumplings.

“this is delicous.” you say in between bites, sana leaning over pressing a kiss to your temple. “you’re not eating as much, not enough craving?”

“i had some food earlier.”

“how earlier are we talking?”

“before i scooped you up.”

you hum while she feeds you another bite of the warm dumpling that melts so tenderly into your mouth.

the relaxing downtime with sana felt like a completely different world in her house. you got to know sana’s rough run down backstory of how she got to some form of power when it comes to dealing with which practitioner helps with her or not. being well-connected in her line of work was something to be fortunate with, but sana doesn’t like the idea of wealth being wrapped around her. sure, her clothes may be nice, demeanor brash and language abrasive at times, but she sees the world in a more different light compared to tzuyu and elizabeth on the topic of privilege.

as for how she got into her career of being a surgeon, she signed up for dual-enrollment in the last two years of her high school to graduate early. the calling of med school already being long in terms of time, so the sooner she could get out, the better.

“i like that,” you say. “i like how your mind works. i like—”

you. you almost say it. and it aches to not project it, the sudden sting of yearning. you, you, i really like you.

but catching yourself tripping up was something more of a simple defensive mechanism. “the story,” you finish. “pretty funny.”

“i have better ones.” sana says, grin lighting up her face, more radiant than sunlight. and her obliviousness burns twice as hot. “do you wanna hear about the time my friend bang chan and his best friend felix got mutual restraining orders back in college?”

—

you’ve read the name of tobio kageyama for probably the thirtieth time in two manga volumes before your mind decided to call for a needed break.

sitting upright from the couch, stretching and popping joints across the body. a look at the clock shows that it’s a little past eight, realizing that you’ve studied for roughly about two to three hours. too bad you didn’t notice it before because your brain is already bugging and battered into mush.

so you head to the kitchen, glass cup filled before drinking it once or twice before noticing that sana hasn’t drank any water since she took up a fortress in her office two hours ago, claiming that she had a work call. you fill another glass again, dropping a few ice cubes, before making your way towards her office door–knocking once, “hey, you busy?”

sana’s voice sounds muffled, weary. “no, come in.”

entering the room, hesitant like you were intruding on some sacred space. like the rest of her house, sana’s office was nice, richly-furnished. she has a tall, wooden desk in front of her, several files and stacks of paper placed on top. there’s a bookshelf behind in the corner, thick tomes marked by names that you don’t even want to try to read or recognize. the walls are also painted in a dark gray, and there’s a leather couch off to the left side with a blanket placed over it. even sana needs to have her naps sometimes.

sana then calls for your attention, glasses perched on the bridge of her perfect nose. “did you need something?”

“no,” you say, inching closer. raising the glass, “i just wanted to get you some water.”

she smiles in thanks, taking it from you while she approaches with an outreaching hand, grabbing the glass downing it in one gulp. frowning with a mild concern once she gave you back the glass, “were you thirsty?”

“a bit. i didn’t feel it until now.”

“are you hungry?”

“not right now. i’ll eat when im finished with this.”

“you should take a break,” you say, stepping towards sana. you lean back with your butt to the edge of her desk, half sitting. up close, you can see sana’s stress more evidently, eyes low with exhaustion. “sit on the couch with me. we can watch something together.”

“i can’t do that, y/n.”

“why not?” would a short film be better?”

“i have paperwork. a lot of paperwork. not to mention forms, test results, patient files. i want to try to get through them by tonight.”

“and you will,” you reply softly, stepping between her legs, resting your hands on her shoulders. “just ten or fifteen minutes of your time, please.”

“no way we’re watching a movie in ten minutes.”

“not the movie, you idiot. i was gonna say food instead, you should eat.”

“‘m not hungry.”

“not even a snack?”

sana lets out a smile, placing her hands on your hips. “i appreciate you for being concerned, baby, but i’ll be done soon. i promise. then we can go get something to eat together.”

looking down at the ground, hands still on shoulder. you’re smoothening the crinkles of sana’s large shirt, fingers brushing up from her neck up to her hair. you lean down and kiss sana fully on the lips, slowly, once, twice, a few times, and rest your knee on her chair between her legs. you break away a bit to pepper languid kisses across the slope of her jaw.

“relax,” you croon. “take a break with me.”

sana sinks into you, sighing like she’s expelling a pressure from deep within her chest. her eyes flutter closed, hands twitching around your waist, and when you dip down to kiss her throat, you feel the flushing heat rising from her body.

desire races to the forefront like a freight train, bowling over you with its inteistiey, and you’re running a hand up her thigh towards the center. sana gasps sharply into your parted mouth, fingers clutching around your waist. you’re nearly smiling.

“you’ve eaten me out before,” you whisper. “but you’ve never let me do the same for you.”

sana laughs but it’s off, brimming with echoes of a dark promise. “i find it more enjoyable when i eat up your pussy then have you eat mine. better for me to see you cry the way i want you to.”

there’s a thrill pulsing through your body, throbbing dully in your cunt. you’re ducking down to kiss her again, practically panging into sana’s open mouth as you palm her through her pants. her face is screwed up with a tight coil of pleasure, eyes shut. her fingers dig into the leather armrests at her side.

“let me,” you whisper again, almost begging. “i want to.”

sana’s eyes crack open, solely, regarding you as though you were something to be consumed. i want to, you think with a sort of nameless, desperate sense of urgency. i want you to.

she nods, and you kneel at her feet.

you’re kissing through her jeans first, soft, affectionate little pecks that make sana groan, fingers sliding up her legs again. you help sana clumsily unbutton her pants, shucking it down and off her thighs. the panties are quick to follow, only first with a trail of your lips over the black-laced fabric, soaked with her wetness that fills up your nose. sana is wrecked with the effect you have on her, just some light kisses and heavy petting, making your cunt fucking clench; you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who’s wanted you even half as much.

when sana’s panties are gone left with her shirt; the scent is intoxicating. her folds are glistening. she sighs of pure bliss when you lick up her slit, mouth lingering on her clit. her hips twitch from the initial contact. you stifle a smile when you shower a few more kisses, and she groans loudly when you part her legs, squeezing her inner thighs tightly the more you shove your face into her cunt.

you’ve eaten out girls before, but sana was more of an anomaly. to play it safe, you experiment, trying to see what she likes best. licking at her, teasing her walls with a finger, leaving teased kisses to the area outside of her pussy. sana can’t contain herself when she pulls your head back in with her hand, moaning into her core, the vibrations too overwhelming coming from your mouth to her legs.

“fuck,” sana moans. “fuck, y/n–baby, fuck. i’m gonna—”

nodding at her, you don’t let up the pace of tearing up her cunt. fingers in walls and grunting into her. she doesn’t even let you breathe. the heels of her feet on your shoulders as her hands are on the back of your head, nails scratching the scalp the more you’re lapping her up. only then you pull away as she coos out locking eyes with you, the sight of licking your mouth lean with your tongue from her slick almost makes her lose it from the seat.

“i’m gonna ruin you,” sana promises, snarling, gaze devouring, mad with want. it sends a deep vibration into your cunt while she looks up to the ceiling. “you won’t be able to walk.”

you could’ve just came right then and there, vision whiting out at the edges. somehow you kept your sanity in check, ducking your head for more fully. humming and sliding your tongue over her cunt, nibbling on her clit and with a sudden jerk followed by a sharp groan, she cums.

a whole assortment of papers, files, pens, and pencils are scattered to the floor as sana digs her hand beneath your shirt and rips it off of you. your lips meet hers for another frantic kiss, laying back as she’s settling over you.

she shoves your sweats down along with your panties, letting them dangle from your feet. sana then moves back to your chest, hands moving like a firebrand, searing your skin with every touch. desperate to feel more of it, you sit up slightly and unclasp your bra. the second you’ve tossed it, sana’s hands are quick to palm, mouth hot against your own as she swallows your keening sigh.

“you have the most perfect tits in the world,” sana breathes, thumbs circling your nipples, forefingers roving down to pinch. the sweet pleasure-pain sparks a heavy throb in your core, and she arches into you, spreading your legs wide. you moan when sana’s mouth is around your breast, the other hand folding you.

“god, sana, please,” you beg, clinging to her. your hips are twitching, the emptiness inside you turning into a physical ache.

“what is it, baby?” sana switches over to your other mound, tongue laving over your nipple. your eyes fluttering, mind spinning at the sight. “what?”

moaning helplessly, and her hand slides down to your cunt, thumb sliding up the wet gusset of your panties to find your clit. when she presses down, your hips jerk forward, shrieking. she’s laughing around your boob.

“yeah, there we go,” sana sighs out, rubbing at you languidly, moving slow with the roll of her hips. “that feels good, doesn’t it?”

“ye—ah—yes, yes it feels good.”

“i know.” sana kisses up to your throat, sucking the soft spot beneath your jaw, lips deceptively sweet. “but you want more, don’t you.”

more.

your stomach seizes at the thought of it, the promise. you grasp at her wrist and sana hisses, dipping her hand beneath underneath your underwear to slide a finger inside you. keening when she adds another digit, stretching you open—another sounds leaves your mouth and sana laughs when you’re clamping around her fingers.

“you feel so good like this, y/n. so good.” she watches as she fucks her fingers in and out of you, transfixed by the sight. almost resentful of her own body. “i wish i could live in you. i wish—”

“you could,” somehow croaking that out when she has four fingers inside. “i’d let you.”

sana lets her intrusive thoughts get the better of her, growling while she surges down your body. your panties are up in the air as she raises a leg up, thumb petting your clit. you’re rearing up with a shout, a splintering sound, bursting, but sana doesn’t give you any breathing room. next thing you know, she has the flat plane of her tongue swiping upward that pushes your undoing even faster.

it’s good enough to cry, you can feel the salt on your tongue when sana leans up again for another kiss before trailing down to your pussy. there’s a malformation with how the kisses are sloppier on your lips above and below, but the pleasure is good. she makes you feel like euphoria is an ever-present force that is kept within you, and it’s much deeper than the sex. the sprawling root of it is happiness, and sana.

“c’mon, y/n, my lovely girl,” sana says tightly, jaw clenching when she breathes over your clit. her eyes hazy like she might be the one to cum again. “give me another.”

you wrap your legs around her, canting up so that her mouth and tongue go deeper, and you both moan from it. sana’s finger finds your clit again, so wet the sound is purely obscene, but it only strokes the fire of your pleasure, makes it build higher and higher.

“that’s it. there we go. t-there—”

sana stops short. a bitten-off cry, and she doubles down on your clit. her fingers clench around your walls, and there’s a gentle wave—mouth parted to sigh.

she stays for a second, pulling her hand out examining the slimy fluid between the fingers, licking them seductively that makes you roll your eyes and look away. sana just laughs at you, “fuck you, for making me like this.”

your head hits the desk, “not sorry. i like it when you’re needy for me.”

she huffs out, “little minx. when i’m done with you—”

“what? i won’t be able to walk?”

sana’s face falls flat, but her eyes spark with lurid determination as she leans in and whispers, “everything i’ve gotten in life, i’ve had solely because i wanted it badly enough. you think that doesn’t apply to the things i wanna do to you?”

your heart hammers like a jack-rabbit. red-hot heat slowly consumes your face. “i—”

she moves off of you but keeps her arms bracketing your hips. “we’re moving to my room,” she interjects. “i need a bed if i want you to sit on my face.”

eyes were wide open while you managed to slip out of sana’s hold, scurrying to the bedroom down the hallway. sana’s signature laugh echoes as she chases you down behind.

—

it’s a bit chilly outside when mina calls you, the autumn weather creeping beneath your new coat to settle into your bones. hitching the collar up your neck for cover, and the phone is out from your pocket to see your cousin’s name. you’re repressing a sigh, picking up,

“hey.”

“yo.” mina has many greetings. “where are you right now?”

“i got out of class, walking to the subway.”

“are you by yourself?”

“yes,” you say. “obviously. why wouldn’t i be?”

“you usually have that slightly taller girl tagging along with you. the one with the model face.”

“tzuyu.” you correct sharply. “and you’re not wrong, but she has her own life. you know? a girlfriend?”

“and you? you got anyone?”

frozen, stumbling in your tracks. mina could be asking for curiosity, but you know your cousin too well; she’s not the kind to be asking unnecessary questions.

“no, i don’t,” you answer cautiously.

“are you sure?”

“why even bother asking me?” you retort, voice clipped. “even if i was seeing someone. i’d mention it right away, even with thanksgiving around the corner.”

“i don’t see what thanksgiving has anything to do with it.”

“most normal people introduce their partners to family, mina. not everything personal is some dirty little secret.”

“don’t you dare try to get snippy with me. i was just asking a question, not cuffing you to a table for an interrogation. chillax.”

you’re cringing with knitted brows, stepping down the stairwell into the subway station. it’s a lot warmer, “whatever. i just wanted to know why you were asking.”

“i was asking because you haven’t been calling me lately. i figured that someone else was taking up all of your time besides auntie.”

your jaw tenses. there’s this wave of guilt that makes your clinch your lip, voice much gentler when you follow up, “i’ve just been busy, mina. you know that.”

“yeah?” the customary ten seconds of loaded silence pass before mina adds, “speaking of busy, don’t come down for thanksgiving this year. i’m gonna be busy with work.”

work. the nameless occupation mina had never bothered explaining to you, not since you were in your teens. you’ve had your own suspicions and theories, but you never even had the frame of mind to confirm them yourself.

even with the disappointment; it’s actually comforting in a weird sense. “that’s fine. i have finals to get ready for anyway.”

“you’re not upset by this?”

“no.”

“and you’re not lying to me about anything, right?”

“no, mina.” you say, smiling ruefully. “why would i? when have either of us ever lied each other about anything?”

good as dammed, but there’s no care for it. i wouldn’t even matter anyway. it comes as a concern for how little tinges of that feeling is there still.

mina sighs out. “talk to you later then, if you do call me.”

you hang up after. the lasting thought of mina doesn’t even come afterwards.

—

not even more than two steps into the entrance hallway when the doorbell calls you.

you’re freezing, eating away at the fragile patience, but when you look through the peephole. you don’t think twice about opening the door. “tzuyu?”

she’s standing across from you, arms folded, foot tapping, and pouting. “you’ve been neglecting me.” she accrues.

“huh?” you ask stupidly while blinking in a fast state.

tzuyu rolls her eyes and breezes past you, chilling air carrying the rich scent of yves saint-laurent. you follow her into the living rom, watching her shuck off her louis vutton jacket and tosses it onto the seat.

“well?” she demands, whirling around to face you. “tell me what did she do to you?”

“what?”

“your little sugar mommy-doctor-girlfriend.”

“tzuyu–”

“whatever she did, she’s good enough to keep you from calling or texting your best friend for a week.”

“what?” you’re gasping out again. “a week? i haven’t…”

with a rush of the phone, you’re pulling up messages only to notice that you have, in fact, been ignoring tzuyu’s texts for the better part of a week. all of your besties messages. the only person you’ve kept consistent contact with is sana, and the last text you sent her was–

well—best to the imagination.

“i’m so sorry,” you breathe out, throwing your phone off to approach tzuyu, taking her mittened hands, gently directing her to sit on the couch. “i’m so sorry, tzuyu. i didn’t mean to ignore you or shuhua or irene or anyone, i just—”

“you’ve been preoccupied with your new girl?”

“yeah,” you admit, bit of shame hanging, but adding, “and school. dooyoung–the guy editing my thesis—says it’s coming together really nicely, so.”

tzuyu whoops, reaching out to shake your leg. “and you’ll be presenting it next semester! how do we feel about that?”

“pretty good.”

suddenly, her eyes soften, shifting closer. “i was mostly kidding, by the way, about you neglecting me. i remember how i was when i first got with shuhua. you couldn’t get me away from her.”

“it’s different, though.”

“what makes you say that?”

“because shuhua is your girlfriend and sana is my—”

you stop, horrified by the abrupt burn of tears. you turn away to conceal yourself, blinking hard, but tzuyu was always quick to notice. she wraps her arms around your elbow, leaning into your shoulder. “your sugar mommy,” she finishes gently, but you flinch like it’s a slap.

“yeah. that.”

“if it bothers you so much, then why are you staying with her?” i’m sure she’s given you enough that you have time to figure out another way to get money. it’s not like you need her.”

“yeah,” you reply dully, still not meeting eyes with tzuyu. your mind is playing the denial aspect a lot more tougher now. “you’re right. i don’t.”

—

with all things and struggles, you compartmentalize.

you’re refusing to think of the blooming feelings for sana more than you have to, and in the even that you can’t, distraction was the solution: school, work, friends. and on the rare occurrence as crazy it would seem, shopping.

“an IKEA drawer?” sana asks, baffled. you keep your phone between shoulder to ear. “why the fuck did you go to IKEA?”

“i needed to,” you answer, pushing the giant box inside of your apartment, leaning against the wall as it’s on the wall. “my other drawer was broken. i’ve had it for like, seventeen years, so i figured that it was time for a change.”

“and you could afford it?”

a rhetorical question. what sana’s really asking if the two bundred she sent you last week was a decent enough amount that you could splurge on. clenching your teeth, flushing.

“yes.”

“y/n, baby. i sent you the money so that you could go shopping.”

“i did. and i shopped at IKEA.”

“are you gonna build the drawer now?”

“yeah.”

“let me come over. i can build it for you/”

“sana, it’s fine. i’ve built furniture before.”

“so have i. in fact, i bet i could have it done in half the time it takes you to read the instructions.”

“oh really now?” cocking a brow in disbelief. “how soon can you come over?”

—

time didn’t really pass, staring at sana from the bed, chin resting on your palm as you watch her hiss and curse to herself, pink screwdriver in hand. the sweat rolls enticing down the hard ridges of her abs, her hair is up and out of her face in a knot. the most exhilarating part in all of this was watching him use her shirt as a sweat rag.

“are you sure you don’t—”

“i’m almost done,” sana snaps, eyes flashing with indignation. “just give me ten more minutes.”

true to her word, she was nearly done. the drawer stands tall in front of her, most of the pieces already constructed and put into place. all that’s missing is the top set of the drawers, which she has in her hands right now.

still, it’s only mildly entertaining just to watch sana. you debated studying to pass the time, but the focus wasn’t enough on your book to make it stick. reading was also out of the question, and texting irene went nowhere after she revealed that she was on a date and couldn’t speak. the news that things with her and seulgi were going well and exciting to hear, but not long after. sana’s shirt was off.

“it’s really fucking hot in here,” had been the excuse mainly.

“is this supposed to keep me distracted? you ask.

“i’m not trying to do anything. if you’re distracted, that’s your prerogative.”

liar. she’s been annoyed the second you stopped foching on her long enough to try facetime tzuyu.

you sigh, spitefully debating on what you can do to fluster sana. the limited options, though, tend to lean more in one direction and the idea of willfully doing any of them was embarrassing.

suddenly, she whoops. “i finished!”

you roll over on your stomach to see sana sliding the drawer into the top slot, circling it, pulling on different knobs to test the tightness and checking for smoothness of the pulling out and pushing in of the drawers. she grins at you, triumphantly. “i told you i could do it.”

“i never said that you couldn’t.”

“it was in your tone.”

you smile, and sana straightens up to bend something in her body. a loud crack sounds, followed by a pained sigh, and her eyes open more glazed. “fuck.”

soon after sana is laid flat on the mattress when you motioned her, face turned towards you with a look that says are you okay?

“my back. it’s been annoying me since work—fuck.”

you nick your head as you cautiously glide your hands over her skin, kneading the muscle softly, and sana just hums with relief. “keep doing that.”

straddling on sana’s ass, languidly moving your fingers up. she just melts. sana perks up when you giggle. “what?”

“nothing.”

“tell me.”

“i think it’s kinda bad for you to have back pain at your age, and it’s kinda mindblowing how active you are.”

“don’t be that dramatic, i’m not that old.”

“for someone that’s near thirty.”

“that’s a bit harsh.”

you giggle again before leaning down, lips skimming sana’s ear lobe. “i’m just teasing you.”

“you’re so fucked up for saying that, i’m only twenty-nine still.”

“don’t be so sensitive.” you say pressing a kiss to her nape. “not bad if you're in your early late twenties early thirties while i’m in my early twenties.”

sana sinks into you, like clay in your hands. when you move to the ridge of her cheekbone, she leans into you, turning her head to catch your lips. a languid kiss is shared, tongues melding, unhurried, but that fire is sparked between your hips and it becomes urgent. it’s a slow grind that’s rolled out, eyes fluttering at the friction.

you pull away while sana breathes out, “fuck,” and flips you over now that you’re straddling over her front. your hands are on her waist, and sana moves her leg up between your legs, doubling down on the notice that you’re not wearing anything underneath the shorts, lips parting.

she leans up to kiss you. sana always kisses you, mouth consuming like she wants to suck you inside. “i didn’t know you watching me build furniture would get you so hot.”

“everything you do gets me hot.”

sana moans and binds you up against her, hips bucking, delicious friction sending stars behind your eyes. you wrap your arms around her neck, panting into her mouth, so euphoric that you want to weep. so happy.

when she breaks way to squeeze your breasts, a loud knock sounds at the door, startling you. sana, however, is unmoved.

“ignore it,” she says, breath hot on your neck. “ride me.”

your eyes flutter and you’re grasping at her hair, already picturing it, the slick coming out of you on her leg, the fruition and contact deep enough to send you reeling. and then you hear it:

“y/n!” another loud knock, more insistent. “open the door!”

shit, you think, cursing, the word flying form your mouth now. “shit, shit.”

sana pulls away from you, concerned, but you’re already beating her in the scramble. she watches you rush to the mirror to fix your hair.

“what’s up? who is that?”

“mina,” you breathes, cold panic pulsing through your veins. “my cousin.”

“oh, well—”

“it’s a bigger deal than you think,” you snap. “and stay here. she can’t see you.”

sana’s eyes widen. “what–?”

“stay here, sana.”

you rush out of the room and hurry towards the front door. through the peephole, you see mina on the other side, arms crossed and expression stoic. you exhale deeply before opening the door, forcing a smile.

“hi, mina.”

she hums in greeting, shoulders knocking as she walks past you. when she spots the IKEA box, she stops short.

“you bought furniture?”

“yes,” you answer hesitantly, clammy fingers clasped behind you. “i needed a new drawer.”

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“i need to call you every time i buy furniture?”

“no. but these things sell for three hundred bucks. it’s expensive.”

“this one was on sale. one–fifty.”

mina makes a deep sound in her throat, unsatisfied, but her journey is continued throughout your apartment.

“so, uh. what are you doing here?”

“it’s thanksgiving tomorrow.”

“oh. i thought…you told me not to come. you said you were busy.”

“some time opened up in my schedule,” she says, and finally stops long enough to look at you. her eyes were shrewd, filled with knowing. it only raises the sirens going off in your head louder. “i decided to come see you.”

“ah,” you breathe. “well, um. i didn’t buy any food. maybe we can order–?”

“why are you so flustered? mina interrupts. “is there something going on?”

“what? no, no, of course–”

“mina?” icy pinpricks poke your skin, and you slowly turn around to see sana standing in the hallway. her clothes and hair have been fixed, and she smiles at mina with a polite curiosity.

your cousin’s expression sours instantly. “who the fuck is this?”

“mina!”

“who is this. why is she in you apartment?!”

sana walks towards mina, unphased by the insult. she sticks her hand out, “my name is minatozaki sana. nice to meet you.”

mina peers at sana, neck tilted at an angle that would be comical if not for the fact that you feel like throwing up. finally, she looks at you again.

“we need to talk.”

#hyunie #sana x reader #twice x reader #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #twice sana #sana #minatozaki sana #minatozaki sana x reader #twice x you #twice imagines #sana imagines #sana minatozaki #twice fluff #twice smut #sana smut #sana twice

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aliaology · 5 months

Text

WORK SONG

summary: jacks mind runs constantly, and you’re the reason

small a/n: per usual, readers looks wont be described, so reader can look however you want ♡ , does get slightly sensual! not tagging ppl for this one bc i forgot my taglist and im sleepy

pairings: jack hughes x fem!reader

not doing my tags bc im too lazy for this rn

boys workin’ on empty, is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? i just think about my baby. im so full of love i could barely eat

being in love was a full time job, and jack had no complaints. he loved being in love because it meant waking up next to you. it meant he was able to touch you, to feel you, to be with you. oh— how he loved it. he didn’t care if he was at practice, just thinking about you, because you were his motivator. he didn’t need drinks or food or sleep to play, just you.

you brought him the strength he craved, you were his number one fan. the one who supported him through thick and thin even when he was wrong. the one who held their hand out, so he could grab it and begin to climb. you were such an angel.

there’s nothing sweeter than my baby. i’d never want once from the cherry tree. ‘cause my baby’s sweet as can be. she’d give me toothaches just from kissin’ me.

your kisses were sweet. the way you’d pepper them against his skin, over and over and over again, made him fall deeply. you were his muse and your sound was so pretty. the way your mouth would drop open, noises escaping it. oh how you were so beautiful.

your lips tasted like cherries, a favorite fruit that he began liking the second his tongue met with the flavor of you. the flavor would linger, no matter what lips he kissed.

the feeling of your fingers on his face, or his lips, anywhere on his body, was like heaven. giving into you like a drug— he was addicted. he loved your touch, no matter if it was gentle, or the scratches you’d leave on his back. he yearned for more.

and i was burning up a fever. i didn’t care much how long i lived. i swear i thought i dreamed her. she never asked me once about the wrong i did.

jack hated being sick just because of the feeling. the feeling of a stuffy nose, a headache, the cough. all of it. but you somehow made it good. the way you would take care of him, pressing a cold cloth to his forehead when he had a fever. or when you’d make soup from scratch, your grandmas recipe that you keep a secret.

you were too good to be true. you were the embodiment of perfect in jacks eyes. everything about you. from how you spoke and how your tone was always gentle — to how you felt inside and out. every time you grip jacks hand hard— he swears he’s dreaming. you can’t be real. you were ethereal.

my babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. if the lord dont forgive me, i’d still have my baby and my babe would have me.

jack didn’t like you worrying. he hated it, hated how you would get so scared that he would leave to go back to an ex. how you thought you were nothing compared to them— but you were so much more. you were his everything. the one who kept him going. you were his sun, he revolved around you. he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“baby— what if they ever want you back? they’re so pretty.”

“oh baby, they could never compare to you.”

he didn’t care what he’d have to do, but he’d do it all for you to stay happy. in his eyes, you hung the universe. you were his universe.

when i was kissing on my baby, and she put her love down soft and sweet. in the low lamp light i was free. heaven and hell were words to me.

being able to press slow kisses to your neck and shoulders were his favorite things to do. or watching your soft body rock gently with his as your sweet love lit him up. you made jack forget everything in the world no matter where you were. you made jack forget everything else just by talking to him.

skin on skin, heavy breathing, sloppy kisses, it was all sweet. it was all you, you and your love. no time with him was for the hell of it. all of it was love, pure and desirable.

when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. no grave can hold my body down, ill crawl home to her.

love. jack loved being in love. he hated the saying ‘til death do us part’ and it wasn’t because he didn’t believe it. he hated it because it would never apply to him. he wanted a saying that would be one he could hold onto forever, just like your hand. he wouldn’t part ways with you once death decided to take over.

no— he’d hold you the entire time. he’d be with you no matter where you were. he’d wait until you two met again— and then he’d take you to another universe because in every one of them, you were soulmates.

jack would not let a grave, or death, part you two. he would hold onto you whether it be with one hand, or with his heart.

#hockey #jack hughes #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #new jersey #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes imagine #jh86 #jhughes #jhugh #jhugh86 #hughes

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dambaepuff · 21 days

Note

Could you do a morning wood verison for the maknae line

Morning Wood (maknae line)

☆Paring: BTS!MaknaeLine x GN!Reader

☆Genre: reactions/headcannons, smut

☆Warnings: male anatomy, unspecified reader gender, bodily fluids, depictions of sex

☆Word count: 0.8k

☆Summary: the maknae line reacting to waking up with morning wood

☆A/N: thank you so much for requesting anon!! I probably wouldn’t have gotten around to writing this if it wasn’t for your request so I appreciate it <33 (also I didn’t feel like making little banners for each member forgive me)

Park Jimin

This man has absolutely no shame

If he has a boner and the chance to take care of it, he WILL do it

He feels smug knowing you’re laying right next to him as he touches himself through his clothes

We all know he’s quite vocal so he won’t hesitate to moan if he feels good

The moment you wake up your eyes land on him, sprawled out on the bed, cock in hand as he plays with his nipples

Your mouth waters at the sight, he gives you a lazy grin and asks if you want to fuck (ofc you do)

Too lazy to get into a proper position he’ll just pull whatever clothes are in the way to the side

He’ll do his best to hover over you, but he just ends up sort of laying on you while he humps into your hole like there’s no tomorrow

He pushes your shirt up so he can mark along your stomach and tease your nipples

You can’t tell who is more horny out of the two of you at this point

You buck your hips up into his and meet his thrusts, both of you trying to reach your orgasm desperately

Places his elbows next to your head so he can lean on them while caging you in

He slows down and starts thrusting as deeply as possible, pressing into your g-spot with every sloppy movement of his hips

Kissing along your neck he nibbles on your jawline, making sure to moan in your ear for good measure

He draws out both of your orgasms with the most painfully slow movement

When you do cum though, he makes sure it’s hard

He toys with all of your most sensitive spots while fucking his load into you, it leaves you shaking and blissful

Kim Taehyung

He’s so polite and well manner he just couldn’t do anything that could make you uncomfortable

He wakes you up gently and asks if you can help him with the sweetest look in his eyes

Without hesitation you lift your hips off of the bed so you can pull off your underwear and pajama pants in one motion, spreading your legs and giving him an inviting look

He scrambled to get between your legs, his hands shaking in excitement as he places them onto your knees

You leisurely begin to play with yourself, looking him in the eye while your fingers glide over your most sensitive spots

He pulls out his dick, immediately starting to pump himself

Pushing your hand away he replaces it with his own, beginning to jerk the two of you off at the same time

As the morning sun casts warm rays onto his face, you sigh in delight

When he feels as though he can’t wait any longer to be inside of you, he spits down onto his cock to wet it and begins prodding at your entrance

He glides in with one swift motion, his dick fitting inside of you perfectly

He stays at a steady pace the whole time, preferring to draw out your orgasms slowly

Even though it takes a while to cum this way, it makes the moment more about feeling each others warmth and love than just cranial desire

When you do cum though, it spreads through you in waves, taking over your whole body till you’re clenching and squirming

He loves seeing you get like this, just staring down at your pretty face as you cum on his cock

Jeon Jungkook

His brain is so fuzzy from sleep and being horny he doesn’t even process searching for your body through the sheets

He just grabs onto you and starts humping

No thought process or decision behind it, just pure instinct

They don’t just call him a bunny because of his appearance wink wink

And who are you to deny the poor boy an orgasm?

You mad been awake when he started humping you, so you helped him by holding his hips and guiding him

Once he wakes up and realizes what he’s doing he gets really flustered

Hiding in the crook of your next and mumbling apologies as he places soft pecks onto your skin

You just shush him and continue making him get off with your body

This certainly isn’t the first time you make him cum in his pants nor the last

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x gender neutral reader #bts smut #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts maknae line x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader

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takes1 · 19 days

Text

final part asahi x feral reader w/ a size k!nk

skip the intro if you want again, (i marked the beginning of actual smut for ease of navigating) couldn't resist adding some kuroo stuff bc i love writing him even if its not sexual/thirst. this has turned a bit more into porn with plot forgive me i'm simple

warnings. heavy nsfw. minors DNI

info. nsfw / soft+rough kissy missionary sex / mentions of personal restraint / multiple orgasms / mentions of masturbation / gentle giant!asahi / asahi keeping your mouth shut / mutual size kink / sweet asahi / dacryphilia if you squint / sex toys (vibrator) / kuroo's sister!reader / kuroo cockblocking / kuroo being protective / 3.6k words / thanks for reading this asahi series!! it's been a delight!

haikyuu collection. more hq here! part one here. part two here. part three here.

more links. my ao3. masterlist. requests open!

You chose some giant clothes to cover the fact that you weren't wearing anything underneath.

Then, with your security chair out of the way, you quietly slipped into the hall.

The familiar sound of Helldivers 2 on the entertainment speakers assaulted your ears. Of course, he got to invite friends over for the weekend.

You padded downstairs, the ache between your legs nearly unmanageable. You clenched your fists at the sight of his lazy ass as you walked behind the couch to get to the front door.

It was funny how quickly he zapped all desire from your body. You did not enjoy sobering up so quickly.

"I thought you said you were staying home!" Tetsurou called as soon as you grabbed the leash off of the rack.

You nearly pulled a muscle rolling your eyes so far back. You shook the thing violently from the doorway so he'd get it through his thick skull that you were literally doing what he texted you to do.

A couple voices muttered something, but your brother spoke volumes above it--

"Wait two seconds, shit-head!"

You clipped the hook into your dog's collar. To Hell with whatever he wanted. You unlocked the door and slipped on a pair of giant, black crocs.

That garbage pile gave you enough grief about your no-plans-plan in the past 12 hours to deserve being stranded on a barrel in the middle of the ocean. He could handle playing games with his friends while you went to walk the dog.

"C'mon, baby," You cooed and closed the door behind you.

It was, thankfully, nice and cold outside. You were glad you opted for some warm clothes.

"Where are my shoes?!" He yelled through the crack in the door. Almost to the end of the driveway, you didn't figure he had the gumption to follow you without them.

You pushed your hood up and pulled the strings.

A stop at the other side of the gate, and you waited for Maru to finish pissing in order to continue the walk. The big, empty street looked a little creepy in the dark.

flip!-flip!-flip!-flip!-flip!

You were glad to not be alone, but still threw your head back when he rounded the corner. His hands were shoved into his basketball shorts and he was shivering.

You both looked down to each other's feet at the same time. He had to put on your flip-flops, so his heels were hanging out the back and his grippers were on the pavement.

A silent exchange went down, one shoe at a time.

Now walking again, you returned to your baseline agitation.

"I don't need a bodyguard to walk the dog."

"Try being a little less stupid, and I'll trust you to not run off with the first guy you see."

You stopped dead in your tracks. "You think this is me sneaking out?"

He didn't respond quickly enough.

You kept walking, glad he was so cold that his teeth were chattering, "You're an idiot--."

He pushed you, unable or unwilling to argue.

"Why would I sneak out with the dog?" You muttered.

Another stop for Maru. It was silent, again, and you were wishing he would just go back by himself already.

"What's that smell?" He sounded ridiculously close to your head.

You looked up and realized that was because he was sniffing your hood. A sudden insecurity of smelling like sex flashed through you.

Pushing hard on his chest, you declared, "Fuck off."

It didn't send him flying the way you wanted it to. It only pissed him off, especially because he knew that smell from somewhere. He just couldn't recall exactly how right now.

You expected him to push or slap you back, so you tensed, but no such move was made.

"One day you'll thank me," He muttered with a grumpy chuckle.

A glance didn't do you any good. It was too dark to see his face.

"For what?" You rolled your eyes again.

It was quiet for so long that you were certain he had just been joking. As if he did anything to help you out, anyway. All he did was piss you off and get in your way.

"For making sure you don't get hurt."

Frustration on the tip of your tongue, you began to retort, "I--," but fell short of the will to say anything back for a minute.

Your glancing around in the dark didn't help you form any thoughts.

Maybe Asahi being so kind was just luck. Not the wise intuition you claimed to be guided by. There were already many times tonight that could've made a turn for the worse, and you hadn't realized until after the fact.

That didn't change how you felt, though, other than some newfound patience for Tetsurou's difficult, demanding nature.

Maru didn't want to go much further than the fifth lamp post, so your small party turned around before you could cross the street.

It was quiet on the way back. Just the jingle of your dog's collar and the flip-flip of these shoes you hated.

You rounded the corner and closed the gate behind you, Tetsurou opting to walk ahead since it was evident to him that there was no danger anymore.

It was just getting to be a comfortable silence when he had to speak up one last time.

"Has this tree always been sideways?"

You genuinely thought it was a joke, so you didn't spare a look when you crossed behind him to get inside. He caught you shoulder the way you hated so much and you swiped your hand to hit him, but saw what he was talking about and froze.

The both of you took a moment, dumbfounded, to stare at your lawn tree. It looked nearly snapped, like a hurricane had come through, but it hadn't rained in weeks. Nothing else was wrecked. Just the tree.

You felt guilty about it for just a second, but rationalized that it had nothing to do with you. You weren't sure what that was from.

"Maybe it was rotted from the inside?" You thought out loud.

He glanced around, suspicion at its full peak, and guided you inside swiftly by your upper back.

Tetsurou locked the door behind you and stayed stock-still, staring through the peephole for so long you didn't bother saying anything to him before heading back upstairs.

At your door, you heard him call to Kenma and Bokuto.

"Did one of you kick that tree in the yard?"

You collapsed against the door with a soft shut and an even softer sigh.

There was no time to deconstruct everything that was discussed, because your eyes followed a sound that nearly made you jump out of your skin.

The man took up so much of your bed. He was on his back, scarred knuckles brushed slowly up and down, a casual pump to quell his impatient cock.

His hand fit much better around it than yours. In his other hand, held closer to his face, he was clicking a small device- the familiar buzz of which inspired a complete takeover of tension between your legs.

Your embarrassment was no secret, and neither was his curiosity.

"I'd love to use this," He grinned and looked you up and down, undressing you with his eyes.

It took some effort to find the lock on the door and make your shaky way over to the bed. Like last time, he met you at the side.

However, you noticed that before you left, he didn't have the same edge in his brow, or the eagerness that defined the way he pulled you into him.

When you stumbled, he caught you and tilted your head for a restless kiss. He was shoving his hands under the waistband of your pants and humming a sort of approval against your cool lips. It sent your stomach back into those fluttery waves of excitement all over again.

"You should take your clothes off," He muttered, fully immersed in his desire since he never had to sober off of it.

"Yeah- I should," You breathed against his rough, needy lips.

You were slipping back in quickly, though, when he took your lips in a chaste, passionate kiss all over again. His hands were slipping over your skin, discarding your hoodie before you could do it yourself.

His whole body was warm, it felt like he was burning through you when you stepped out of your pants and fell against his front. Like a melting ice cube.

When he picked you up this time and set you down, it was less premeditated, more animalistic. You gave a giggling smile when he parted your legs for him.

Any shyness he had before was long-gone after 10 minutes of imagining what he was going to do to you- you squirmed at his spit-slick fingers slipping over your soaking cunt.

"Still so wet for me," He muttered, pleased, into your hair, while his massive body settled over you.

That intense, near-evolutionary drive kicked in again where you believed you could take whatever he wanted to give you all night. It may have been the smell of his sweat, it may have been his grumbly voice.

"Obviously," You smirked. He grinned at your confidence.

"We can take this slow," He rolled a condom on without wasting any extra time, "I don't wanna hurt you."

The statement floored you for a moment. He didn't notice as he lined himself up with your tightness.

It echoed in your brain during the most contradictory part possible.

He sank into you- it wasn't easy, but after hours of build-up -more if you counted the self-pleasure you couldn't resist before he arrived- it was beyond rewarding to watch all of the stress and worry on his brow melt away in one smooth, slow stroke.

"Fuck- fuck, fuck," You whined, his grasp on your hip reassuring, but still a pen in which you couldn't wriggle from or adjust against, "God-!"

Your thighs twitched on either side of him, forcibly relaxed- you tried to catch your breath, but felt like your lungs were too constricted to do so.

His thumb brushed your cheek.

Patience and gentleness in the midst of it all allowed you to breathe a little easier.

Only kindness, with a hint of pity, remained in his expression as you gasped and struggled to ease up around his cock.

He looked away for a moment, his hand leaving the side of your face, and you heard a saving grace.

Asahi did you the liberty of placing it against your clit. His face lit up at the sight and sound of your newfound gratification.

"I bet that feels better, huh?" He smiled against your parted lips, stealing a few of your moans with an excited kiss.

There was a hard-to-pin inquisitiveness about his attitude surrounding your vibrator. Like he was dying to use it on you, feel you writhe around his still cock.

"Ohh my god-! Ah-Mn!" You cried against his lips.

It was met with chuckle and the slow pump of his hips sinking deeper into you.

It dulled the discomfort of his size, leaving only a feeling of fullness between your legs, a satisfied craving, and the intense waves of pleasure from your clit.

His pretty face and perfect body over you- how could you not just announce your paradise to everyone in the city?

One hand laced in yours, and you took control of your vibrator to swirl it the way you preferred while he picked up his leisurely pace.

He barely caught your high-pitched tone at the combination with an alarmed kiss.

Stalling, he warned, "You gotta be quiet," and leaned to press further kisses against your neck.

He quickly learned that you weren't going to stay that way for him, even if his balls were allegedly on the line.

The feeling of him going deeper, your thighs bouncing from his weight that shifted your entire body, and the building waves over your clit.

"Asahi," Came out in a needy moan.

"Shhh," He cooed, gripping the bottom half of your face to get your focus on him.

The beat of his thighs against the back of yours stole your attention instead- you squeezed against his palm with furrowed brows.

Another noisy cry at his size splitting through you, and he instinctively covered your mouth to shut you up.

He thrust hard into you and stayed there, earning a pitiful whimper, and leaned in close to catch your avoidant eyes.

A mutter against your heated skin, "Do I need to keep you quiet?"

His cock was stretching you beyond your limits- that steely look in his pretty brown eyes was so layered.

You clenched around him, butterflies attacking you now, of all times, at his stern tone, but genuine concern.

A gorgeous smile spread across his features when you nodded, helpless, but honest.

He felt too good- he filled you up better than you had imagined. You were stunned to feel that you were already close. There was just no possible way.

This wasn't how you wanted it to go.

It was too soon- you didn't want it to be over so quickly. But now, of course, you realized you didn't have the physical capacity to take him all night.

You tried moving the overwhelming buzz away from your needy clit, but met the resistance of his hand instead.

He pressed just enough to guide you right to an edge you couldn't pull back from. You whimpered against his palm.

You couldn't tell him you were about to cum. You couldn't move away, or speak, nor did you possess the will to push against him. All you did was claw, weak, across his back.

The look in his eyes responded to your subtle panic-pleasure without a word. A gentle fondness that he shouldn't have been capable of while he gave you his rougher strokes.

He removed his hand from your mouth just to swallow your sounds with a starved kiss, an avid grumble at the back of his throat when you took his tongue so well.

"Mm-!" You squeaked, nails digging deep red trenches into his shoulder.

It was an ultimate submission you never had the insurance to safely experience before.

You got the chance for a gasp before getting cut off -half a second before you could alert the entire house- by his huge palm again.

Asahi groaned as you tightened around him. He quickly shut himself up by flexing away the pleasure and leaning down to pant, warm breath spilling against your ear.

"Shh- I got you," His kindhearted whisper strung you along, crushing you underneath his weight, while he repeated that sweet promise, "I got you, baby."

All your worry of it being too soon dissipated as your orgasm wracked through your entire body and filled you with pure bliss. He fucked you hard and steady through it and didn't even grant you the dignity of looking away from him.

Your chest was tight at the end of it, eyes stinging, and you would've sobbed if he wasn't still keeping you quiet.

He watched your journey the whole time through your eyes, wholly captivated by your big, glossy fixation on him. When you blinked away the burn, he took no time to kiss them away.

Your body naturally relaxed, a twitchy and overstimulating process.

He slowed for you after he sucked the rest of your complicated tears up.

He was so heavy, so adamant on keeping your noise down that you couldn't tell him to stop. You weren't sure that you would try, even if he wasn't hindering your communication. The fact that you trusted him so much right now wasn't necessarily wise, but it felt right.

His growing intensity didn't hurt, but it didn't start to feel good until a raspy voice told you:

"Feels so good," He swallowed the spit gathered in his mouth and seethed, a light chuckle breezing past his lips, "You got no fuckin' clue."

That was just kind of sinful confession that gave you nervous chills even though he was already fucking you senseless.

He studied how your eyes clouded over at his words. A restrained, toothy smile nudged your jaw in a sugary kiss.

"I'm not gonna be able to get enough of you," He finally took his hand off of your lips and you were able to gasp at the impact of his words.

When he readjusted, he swept your legs up to his shoulders and dipped back down.

"A-Ah!" You barely choked out before he moved his hand back to its diligent place over your loud mouth.

He was so deep- you felt like he'd split right through you. Yet, you welcomed the possibility with the blessing of another steady-growing climax.

Yet, only one of you was so careless. He was so tender, so considerate because he could feel it, too. How fragile you really were in this position in regards to his size.

"God," He sighed at your loving stare.

"Gonna- ah, make me cum, lookin' at me like that," He groaned, a bit strained.

He finally dipped his head with closed eyes at the sweet, slick heat he just wanted to bury himself in. He couldn't get too carried away, now that it was starting to get difficult.

Your shitty stamina stroked his ego so much that he forgot he wouldn't be too far behind for a while. He got a bit ahead of himself and was paying for it with the climbing pressure in his stomach.

Your pussy was reason enough to fuck you harder, but that face was what really tested him.

His hand twitched at the compelling desire to hear you scream for him, but again, had to keep his sanity for the two of you. Next time he would make sure that brother of yours wouldn't be in the way.

He tried to keep an edge going, but found it laughably difficult to settle down.

If it wasn't your Fuck-me-harder eyes building up the needing to cum, it was your cute tits squished against your soft, scratched-up thighs, right under his chest.

It was impossible to keep himself from riding that high in the end.

As if to spite him, to completely spend all of his restraint, your watery eyes rolled back again. Your muffled whines filled his ears as you tightened once more around him, weaker this time but still more than enough to send him over the edge.

"G-od,fu-ck," He groaned, hitting just the right spot to fuck out both of your orgasms.

You felt him swell inside of you, his grip on your hand crushed yours back to the point that you couldn't claw him, his hips stuttered to a slow stop, deep inside of you.

A sense of satisfaction beyond the physical softened your face, your resistance between his fingers, and all your aching muscles. You weren't quite sure what it was, but didn't feel rushed to figure it out.

He was trembling when he released the lower half of your face, a beautiful sweaty and out of breath mess on top of you.

Once again, you gasped at the opportunity to breathe better.

He tensed up immediately and you flinched at the twitch of his cock inside of you.

"Shit- was I choking you?" He managed to stay worried right after he came.

You grinned, carefree on the backend of your own, and shook your head, "Mm-mm."

The look of unmatched relief that washed over him was supremely attractive.

He pulled himself out, slowly, and made a face at how much he came before turning to discard the tied-up thing into the trash with a solid toss.

You welcomed his cuddly shuffle up to your side by burrowing into his slippery chest, and sighed at last, "Cute butt."

That, of all things, made him uncomfortable. He cringed when you spared a glance up to his face from his chin. You rolled your eyes at his overthinking.

"You must be an athlete, or something--," You rubbed your face harder into his chest and felt his laugh resonate throughout your body.

It all felt natural. The joking, the cuddling, the winding down. You both forgot that you weren't together, let alone that you had only known each other for less than a week.

It was already warm with him next to you, but you were happy to be under the soft throw he found and pulled over.

"I can't believe you came twice," His soft laugh invited an embarrassed, but sharp look from you.

He clarified, "It's really hot, don't get me wrong--,"

"I'm not usually so easy," You half-joked.

A big, handsome guy that knew how to use his dick, went down on you, listened to you, and didn't shy away from a vibrator? It'd be a challenge to find a girl who wouldn't cum that quick.

You blushed under the cover of darkness at his gentle, comforting hold on your breast and reassuring kiss to the side of your neck.

The ache in your belly was evident when you were flipped over to be little spoon. It burned pretty bad and you couldn't exactly hide it.

"Did I hurt you--?"

"No," You muttered, clearing your throat, "No, I wouldn't say that."

He placed a big hand on your tummy, feather-light, and you looked over your shoulder to meet his perceptive gaze.

You sure as hell couldn't lie to this guy. He saw right through you.

You pouted and gripped your pillow. Of course you couldn't handle his dick the way you wanted to, the way you bragged about or even genuinely thought you could.

"You were so good," You admitted, a little sad in tone.

A warm kiss to the back of your head. He took the weight of his arm off of your sore body, sighing into your hair.

"You were, too."

He decided to drop the subject, since you both had strong opinions that seemed to clash.

You smiled.

You talked about a range of topics for the rest of the night. General information, first, then personal interests that turned into a long conversation about volleyball, then family history, then academics, then personality, goals, and attraction.

Soon it was 4 in the morning. You were eating popsicles from your freezer and discussing the adventure he had to get up to your window.

You both watched, trying your best to stay quiet, a minutes-long video one of his friends sent in the Karasuno volleyball group chat of him falling out of the tree outside.

A hand flew up to your mouth to silence your intense giggle-fit. You had no idea how you were going to keep something like this a secret from Tetsurou.

Before too long, the pain in your tummy was just an ache and the stranger in your bed turned into a lover overnight.

taglist:

ty for all the replies and reblogs and likes!! it means so much. it's really nice seeing all the other asahi appreciators out here!!

@valiantqueengarden @rinheartshyunlix @alpha-mommy69 @yuyunhoo @insertamazingnamehere

@kreishin

@ruu-https @kasai-https

@40unung @deluluforcarlos55 @lili-harg @beyond-your-stars @noyaskneepad

@rinheartshyunlix @vintagevict0ria @am-3-thyst

<3 u are literally asahi mvp @screamin-abt-haikyuu

masterlist.

requests open!

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aliensupastar · 1 year

Text

shouldn’t feel like a crime

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Carmy Berzatto/GN!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: You finally try Carmy’s cooking. Follow-up to “not wrong, but not right”

Part I Part III

Warnings: minor angst, comfort, fluff, depiction of an eating disorder, food and eating, healing?

A/N: first off, thank you all so much for the love on the first part! i wrote it as a comfort during a difficult time and it was so nice to see people enjoy it. i didn’t intend on writing more for it, but a few people asked for it and i finally got an idea for a follow-up! as a disclaimer, i wrote most of this before season 2 came out and edited it afterwards, but there are no spoilers. gif by emziess <3

Carmy is a good boss. You know this, you’ve known it for months. His sometimes-abrasive idiolect aside, he runs the restaurant like he cares about every brick that built it, every burner the crew uses to make each dish, every ticket that comes through that god-forsaken machine on the expo station. It makes any screaming match easily forgivable, and any nightmare lunch rush endurable.

What you didn’t know was that Carmy could also be a good friend. Since your stint in the emergency room he’s made good on his agreement with you, without ever being overwhelming. He’s instead mercifully subtle. There’s a few bottles of lemonade kept in the office’s mini-fridge now, for when you get dizzy. He’s lent you that coat of his a few times, when the night air ends up chillier than you predicted that morning, and you’ve left your own jacket at home. And he never fails to give you a look, during the busiest hours at the restaurant, communicating quickly, and quietly: Are you good? And you know if the answer is no, he’ll let you take a breather without a single complaint, but you always respond with a quick nod and push through the rest of the shift.

In turn, you do your best not to worry him. You take vitamins and get better sleep and try to stop pushing yourself to the brink of passing out. You even eat one of your safe foods in front of him, at family while everyone else enjoyed the samosas Ebrahaim had cooked up that day, and for once it felt good to eat; the constant playful bickering and banter a welcome distraction from the usual stress that follows your meals.

It’s nice. Maybe you don’t necessarily feel like you’re getting better, just more… stable. Less like you’re in a free-fall and more like you’ve got both feet on solid ground.

When you go to leave after closing up one night and find that it’s raining, impeding you from making your usual trek to the train station, you turn back and head to the office. And a few months ago, you might’ve been too nervous around Carmy to even ask to stay in the restaurant an extra hour, preferring to brave the cold rain and let your clothes get soaked and heavy rather than hang around. You’re relieved, now, to find Carmy right where you left him when you said goodnight just a minute ago, ready to save you from a miserable trip home.

“What’s up?” He asks when he spots you.

“It’s raining.” You tell him, nodding your head in the direction of the back door. “Didn’t bring an umbrella. Do you mind if I stick around for a bit, just ‘till it stops?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem, I’ll be here finishing up for a while, anyway,” He says, then continues after a brief pause. “Y’know you really gotta stop relying on that iPhone weather app.”

You scoff, shaking your head at his teasing.

“You know I’m too lazy to start using another one.”

“I’m just sayin’.” He pushes out of his chair and walks past you, into the kitchen, grabbing a sponge and the container of soap water he uses to clean the countertops.

“You want help?” You offer, already taking off your coat and tossing it onto the office chair.

“Nah, you already clocked out. Don’t worry about it.” He replies, not even looking up as he begins to scrub, but you pick up a sponge anyway and get to work on the counter behind him.

You fall into a comfortable silence for a while after that, only broken by the sound of rough sponges scraping away at the grime and the faint patter of rain on the roof of the building, and part of you wishes you had more opportunities for this. More time spent with him, outside of the hustle and bustle of the restaurant, even if it’s spent cleaning. His presence has become something you’d rather not avoid, even if it makes your heart race; the unique scent of him on the coat you’ve borrowed is becoming familiar, comforting.

“Glad it wasn’t busy today.” Your train of thought is interrupted by his sudden comment, but you quickly nod.

“Practically a miracle, for a Friday.” You agree, hearing him chuckle behind you.

“Didn’t need that shit today, anyways, not while I’m on,” He says. He was working the stovetop today, alongside Sydney, making an efficient team as they churned out dishes quicker than the customers could file in. It made your day a little easier, the delicious aroma wafting from the kitchen while you savored the downtime granted by the slow day.

“I’ve never tried your cooking,” You say offhandedly, but your words make him pause and look back at you, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Really?” He asks, and you nod. “You’ve worked here for months, though.”

“I know.” You shrug.

“How come?”

That makes you stop scrubbing, turning slightly to look at him.

“Think you know the answer to that one, chef.” You tease, before continuing to work. He huffs out a laugh, but keeps staring at your back while you scrub.

“I could make you something.” He finally says, and it makes you truly stop, turning to face him fully.

“Y’all just cleaned this whole kitchen.” Now it’s his turn to shrug.

“I don’t mind.” You give him an incredulous look.

“I- If you think I’m gonna help you clean the stove and the plates again, you’re wrong.” Carmy just shakes his head, tossing his sponge back into the container of water and grabbing a few clean pans.

“C’mon, I can’t have you walking around saying you’ve never tried the food at the restaurant you work at,” He says. “You like spaghetti?”

He’s casual in the way he asks, but you’re still standing by the counter, eyebrows raised in shock. Your mind is starting to race, the way it does every time you’re faced with food, but Carmy’s already pouring olive oil into a saucepan and brandishing his chef knife to chop an onion.

You approach the stove he’s standing at carefully, like it might just burst into flames, and you can already smell the familiar scent of garlic and olive oil and god, he’s only been at it for a minute and it already smells like heaven in this kitchen.

“Smell good?”

“Yeah,” You practically breathe out. “Shit, smells amazing.”

He smiles at that, a rare thing to see on his face. He’s thoughtful for a moment, before saying:

“This is, uh, Mikey’s recipe, actually.”

Your eyes widen, a bit taken aback by his mention of his late brother. At least, his mention of Mikey to you.

You’d learned about what happened to Michael just a few weeks after being hired, after having witnessed the heavy silence that overtook the room when he’d been mentioned, and asking Marcus after work what all that had been about. Since you received your explanation, you’ve tried to mind your own business when the melancholy that came with Michael’s memory returned, giving those who seemed to know him best room to process before getting back to work.

Carmy’s never talked about Mikey to you directly; no one has. You’re not sure what to say.

“Mikey, that’s… your brother, right?” You ask hesitantly, even if you already know the answer before Carmy nods.

“Yeah. He used to run this place, before it was The Bear.” He tells you.

“Before?” Your confusion and surprise seeps into your tone. “What was it before?”

“Still a restaurant, but, quick service. Italian sandwiches. We weren’t called The Bear, we were-“ He chuckles, caught up in reminiscing. “We were called The Original Beef of Chicagoland.”

“No shit! This used to be The Beef?” He nods his confirmation and you’re instantly brought back, the memory faded like an old photo that’s been shoved into storage and forgotten. The only thing that wasn’t hard to recall was the sandwich you’d ordered, practically dripping with flavor, the exact kind of comfort food you’d needed that day.

“Been here before?” He asks.

“Yeah, I just- I didn’t recognise it.” You’d sat at a table across from the friend that dragged you to the slightly shabby establishment, silently relishing in the deliciousness of your food before the panic could set in, so enraptured by it you didn’t even care about the booming voice coming from behind a door that presumably led to the kitchen. Not even when the person it belonged to came out to the front and-

“Mikey, was he like, tall? Black hair?” You suddenly ask, gesturing how tall you’d remembered the man being, and now Carmy’s the one that’s confused.

“Uh, yeah. You- you knew Mikey?” He sounds a little breathless when he asks, but you shake your head.

“No, but when I came here before, he was still running the place, I guess. And just… loud as shit. Hard to ignore,” You look up and meet Carmy’s eyes. “Hard to forget.”

You both share a laugh at that, at the memory of his brother that he loved, and that you barely even knew.

“Yeah, that definitely sounds like him.” The sweet smile stays on his face as he chops and sautées, refusing to let you do more than start boiling the spaghetti for him. All you can do is watch the pasta and watch him as he navigates his brother’s recipe like it’s pure muscle memory.

As much as you like to steal glances at him during opening prep, you don’t get to see as much of him during service hours. You’re just as busy working front-of-house, keeping people happy and keeping Richie off your ass, as he is while he’s trying to keep up on dishes. You don’t get a ton of chances to see him like this, in his element. He plates the finished spaghetti perfectly, in two bowls, so you know he won’t let you eat alone.

Still, the anxiety in your stomach rises when you accept the fork Carmy hands you, and you can’t help but pause. He does, too, and you know he easily recognises the cause of your trepidation.

“What’s up?” He asks, his voice gentle. You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the conflict in your mind, but you can’t stop yourself from saying it.

“Do you… just, maybe have an idea of-“

“I have no clue how many calories are in this.” He answers your question before you can even ask it, and you can’t help but let out a breath of amusement — at yourself, at him for somehow knowing.

It’s his gentle smile, one that lacks judgment or pity, that pushes you to finally swirl the spaghetti around your fork and take a bite and-

Oh my god.

You can’t help the moan that escapes you during that first bite, ignoring Carmy’s chuckle at your slight dramatics. You can see why he’s hot shit in the restaurant world; the dish barely looked fancy or complicated when he’d made it, certainly not as complicated as anything on the menu, but somehow it tastes better than any pasta you’ve ever had. You would say you’re in disbelief, but you don’t pause long enough to think about anything but this, how amazing every flavor bursting on your tongue is.

Carmy finishes his pasta before you do, but he stands next to you till your bowl is empty, before taking it over to the dish pit and beginning to scrub down all the dishware he’d used. And you stand there for a second, staring at his back, unable to process all the emotion filling you as he washes your bowl. The bowl he let you get dirty, because he wanted you to be able to try his food.

The utter warmth flooding your senses is almost overwhelming.

Then, despite your earlier protests, you pick up the sponge he abandoned earlier and get to scrubbing the stovetop down again. You ignore the few warm tears that escape your waterline in the process.

You mindlessly follow Carmy around as he walks through each room, shutting off lights and locking the front entrance and office doors. When you inevitably make your way to the back exit, you push open the door only to find that it’s still raining, worse than it was hours ago. You can only sigh and lean your head against the doorway in defeat.

“Need a ride?” Carmy offers easily.

You think back to the frame that sits on the countertop out front, holding a slightly crumpled index card: “I love you, dude. Let it rip.” Words you’ve seen nearly every day since your first on the job; you just now realize they’re probably Michael’s.

It feels like too much. The letting you stick around, the pasta, the… everything.

You nod anyways, accepting Carmy’s offer, letting him lead you to his car, and he lets you lead the way home.

#carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto fluff #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the shrimp that fried that rice #my writing

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baptismbaby · 8 months

Text

✩ LIKE A DOG WITH A BIRD AT YOUR DOOR PT. 2

toxic!ellie x toxic! reader warnings: EVEN MORE ANGST. spontaneous smut but it's depressing honestly. super short because it's just a follow up. no one is happy song to listen to: waiting room by phoebe bridgers creds to elliesgalaxy on pinterest for ellie pic wc: 2.8k<3 part one

It’s been a week since you’ve broken up with Ellie. The first couple of days, she was calling and texting you but you ignored them. Dina sent a few to let you know she was there for you. You were slowly rotting away in bed, only getting up to use the bathroom. You haven’t showered since the day after. You were gonna go to your class but decided against it and haven’t shown up to any of them. You emailed your professor to let him know you “caught a bug” and if he could send you what he went over and the homework for it. You were finally caught up which meant you could sleep again. You had put Ellie’s t-shirt over a bear and would cuddle with it all day and night.

You found yourself picking up your phone to see if Ellie texted you. You kept reading what she sent you: “I fucked up. Please talk to me. I just want to see your sweet face again. Please give me a chance to fix this.”

You felt stupid. You wanted to forgive her so bad, it was eating at you. You hated being away from her and you knew you’d love her no matter what. No one else could make you happy like she made you but you didn’t want to worry about her cheating again. You would go crazy.

As you read the texts over and over again, something told you to get out of bed and get yourself cleaned up. Take a walk, get fresh air, finally eat something so you don’t feel so sick all the time. You raised up and sat at the edge of your bed, fighting with yourself over what you should do. You counted down from five and stood up, your heavy feet carrying you to the bathroom. You discarded your clothes and turned the water on to cold. You stepped in, cursing under your breath and warming it up slightly. You started to feel slightly better as you shampooed your hair. You washed the grit off your body and stepped out, too lazy to use conditioner. You took out your hair dryer and stepped in front of the mirror, a sigh escaping your lips. You still looked dirty. You had dark circles and your eyes were red from crying. Your face even looked swollen. You have never looked this bad in your life. You were going insane without Ellie.

You shoved on some sweatpants, a hoodie and converse and made your way to the door. You stepped out and looked around, the hallway eerily quiet. Almost everyone was either in a class or out doing something with friends. You started to walk with no idea where you were going. The closest exit was to the left of you and yet you continued onto the opposite side. You slowed to a stop, your stomach aching as you turned to face a door. Ellie’s door.

“What the fuck am I doing?” you mumbled. You shrugged it off as muscle memory. You never went this way unless you were going to Ellie’s dorm. You sighed loudly, trying to internally convince yourself to leave. But your body refused to move. You felt stiff. You heard something fall in her room, making you jump. You were about to leave when the door opened. Ellie stood there, her mouth open and her eyes puffy.

“It is you,” she whispered, her voice deep from exhaustion.

You were frozen. You had no idea what to say. You didn’t even plan on seeing her and yet you couldn’t force yourself to go. She looked as awful as you did.

“Come in,” she said, stepping aside. Without hesitating, you walked inside and stood there. The clothes she took from your room looked as if Ellie threw them on the floor. Ellie walked past you and sat down on her bed, staring into space. You inched forward, slowly sitting down next to her but keeping a safe distance. It felt weird being in the same room as Ellie.

“So,” Ellie breathed. “How’ve you been?”

“Not good,” you uttered.

“Me neither.”

You started to bounce your knee. You were anxious, afraid to speak in case you broke down or started yelling at her. You definitely couldn’t handle an argument right now.

“I didn’t mean to come here,” you admitted.

“That’s fine.”

“I was going to take a walk outside.”

“That sounds nice.”

You glanced up at Ellie and made eye contact. You could tell she was mentally beating herself up. She looked so tired, hurt, guilty.

“I took a shower today.”

Ellie tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace. “That’s good. I need one. It’s been two days.”

“I went a week without one.”

“Oh. You never skip a shower.”

“No, I don’t.”

This was too awkward. You needed to say something to break the ice. You felt since you were already here, you should talk to her about everything that happened.

“You haven’t spoken to Lila, right?”

Ellie shook her head. “Absolutely not. Dina got her kicked out.”

Before you could ask how, you suddenly remembered. Jesse was one of the resident assistants. You couldn’t wait to call Dina and thank her. You were scared you’d run into Lila somehow.

“I blocked her on everything and deleted her number. I even told her off,” she continued.

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I know.”

You inhaled deeply and shifted, trying not to let any tears fall when a question popped into your head that you were unsure if you wanted the answer to.

“Can you tell me why?” you asked.

Ellie sighed and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “I’m not sure if I know. It was a mistake.”

“But you do know, Ellie. I’m not stupid. I know you like the back of my hand. You can be irrational sometimes but you never do anything unless you’ve thought it through. Be honest because there’s not gonna be another chance of us talking about this.”

“Why can’t you accept that this was one of those irrational moments then?”

“Because that’s not enough!” you shouted. You groaned and rubbed your temples, trying hard to calm down. But it wasn’t working. Before you knew it, the tears started to fall and they wouldn’t stop.

“I-I need to understand why,” you sobbed. “I don’t understand and I want to. You’re all I-I’ve ever known and I don’t want to start over with someone else. I can’t, Ellie! There will never be someone else, it’ll always be you! It’s always been you. But I don’t know how to forgive you so I can move past this. I-I can’t unless you tell me, Ellie.”

“I-I think it’s because… you’re all I’ve ever known too. And I was jealous of my friends who got to experiment. I didn’t plan on acting on it when Lila made a move on me but I kept thinking it was my chance. And I hated it. I regret it so much.”

Her answer felt like a punch to your gut. You were hoping she’d say something different instead of what you thought it would be. You haven’t been taking care of yourself as punishment. You blamed yourself. Did she get bored?

“I-I did everything I could to show my love to you, Ellie. Why? Was it not enough?”

Ellie stood up and began to pace around the room, hiding her face behind her hands as her shoulders shook. She uncovered her mouth to speak. “You’ve always been enough for me.”

“But I wasn’t giving you what you wanted?”

“Please,” she begged. She kneeled down in front of you but you avoided her gaze. “You gave me everything and more. I was stupid. I-I told you, why can’t we move past this?”

“I can’t stop thinking about how you looked at her in that video she sent me. You looked so… I don’t know. Not in love but happy. I think that’s worse than the act itself. You weren’t sorry until you were caught. I think it would’ve lasted a lot longer had I not walked in on you two.”

“Believe me when I say I was going to tell you. I meant everything I said last time.”

She reached out to grab your face but you pushed her hands away, Ellie fighting back hard to get a grip on your head to force you to look at her.

“Listen to me,” she pleaded. “I love you. I will give you my password to my phone. I will text you every minute of the day to update you. I will do anything to prove I’m not doing anything and that I will never do anything again!”

You wept harder, your tears falling down and landing in your lap. “I-I want to believe you so badly.”

“Try. Just try.”

She leaned forward and kissed you. You reciprocated and wrapped your arms around her, pulling her in to deepen the kiss. You had no idea what you were doing yet you couldn’t stop. You missed the taste of her lips so much.

Ellie pushed you back gently and crawled on top of you.

“Ellie,” you whimpered. “I’m so mad at you.”

“I know, baby.”

She pressed her lips gently along your jawline. She tugged the neckline of your sweater down to kiss all over your chest. You lifted it up over your head and threw it down on the floor. Ellie did the same to herself and pressed her body against yours. You held her close as she licked your collarbone all the way up to your ear. “I missed you.”

You couldn’t get the tears to stop flowing as her hands pushed your sweatpants down. You wanted this so bad but it was killing you. You knew you wouldn’t be able to leave if you went through with this. Ellie took her boxers off and dropped them onto the ground. She hovered over you, her eyes dancing along every inch of your face.

“You’re so beautiful,” Ellie said in a low voice. She kissed you again, more passionately than before. You shoved her down on the bed next to you and threw your leg over her waist, holsting yourself up so you were now on top of her. You lifted her thigh over yours and pressed your pussy to hers. Ellie moaned, her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure. The two of you grinded against each other, filling the room with obscene noises. The image of Ellie kissing Lila flashed before your eyes, making you whine as you cried harder. You couldn’t help but to think just how sad the whole situation was. It was strange having sex with Ellie. The two of you always had a connection yet you felt closer to her than you did before. Neither of you could stop crying. Somehow it made everything more intimate.

Ellie lifted you up and flipped you over onto the bed. She stared deeply into your eyes, her chest red and rising up quickly with every breath she took. She stuck two fingers inside of you and watched your body react to the feeling.

“Pretty girl,” Ellie cooed softly.

As she fucked you gently with her fingers, you reached up and dug your nails into her skin. You dragged them down along her arms, deep enough for it to draw a little blood. It was a way of getting her back for what she did to you. Ellie didn’t mind it though. She threw her head back and moaned when you did it again.

Ellie slid a third finger in and curled them upwards, hitting your g-spot. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed more.

“Ellie,” you whispered. “I-I need something else.”

Ellie pulled her fingers out and quickly got off the bed to get the box that was slid underneath it. She opened it and pulled out a dildo and a harness, putting it together as fast as she could and sliding into it. She got back on top of you and caressed your cheek.

“I love you so much,” she said softly.

“I love you, Ellie.”

She wrapped her arms around you before thrusting into you. Your mouth fell open, letting out a gasp. You gripped onto Ellie’s shoulders as her hips rolled, her pace slow and steady.

“I wish you could see how beautiful you are right now,” Ellie mumbled.

“Sh, Ellie. I-I just want to feel you right now.”

Ellie knew why you didn’t want her to speak but felt hurt by your choice of words anyway. Even while doing this, you still didn’t believe her.

“You’re my girl,” Ellie continued. “You’ll always be my girl.”

Ellie shut her eyes and pulled out of you, lying down next to you and placing a hand on your waist. You stayed silent as a tear rolled down Ellie’s cheek. She tugged the harness down her legs and threw it back into the box, muttering something about how she’d clean it later before laying back down. She brushed your hair out of your face and gave you a sad smile. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I know… it was a bit much. It was a lot for me too. Maybe I shouldn’t have started anything.”

“Don’t,” said Ellie. “I don’t regret it at all. It was nice.”

You adjusted on the bed so that you were facing Ellie on your side. The light from the window made it seem like she was glowing. Her green eyes looked brighter than usual.

“Can you tell me what I can do to fix this?”

“I don’t know if there’s anything that can be done to fix it right now,” you responded.

Ellie sighed. “Is there anything I can do for you right now, then?”

“Hold me.”

You raised up and rested your head on Ellie’s shoulder, her cheek pressed against your hair and her fingers drawing circles on your arm. The warmth of her body nearly lulled you to sleep but you tried to stay awake. You would never leave if you woke up in her arms.

“This is over, isn’t it?” inquired Ellie.

“Yeah…”

The both of you started bawling at the same time, holding each other closer to comfort one another. Although it killed you, this was the closure you needed to be able to work on yourself and get over it.

“I think I need time to figure things out. We both do. And once we’ve had some time apart, maybe we could try being together again. But not anytime soon.”

“I’d like that a lot,” Ellie muttered with a sniffle.

“Good.”

The both of you laid there, soaking each other up for the last time before you had to go. You wanted to say something but felt everything that needed to be said was said already.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” said Ellie, breaking the silence.

“I know. Me too.”

“Maybe you don’t have to.”

“I have to, Els.”

Ellie held you tighter, burying her face in the crook of your neck. She inhaled deeply to take in your scent.

“I think I should leave now,” you said. You pulled away from her, getting choked up from the loss of touch. You wanted to lay back down again, take everything back and try again now but knew that time apart is what the both of you needed. Ellie needed time to reflect as did you. You knew it would be difficult but it would be worth it in the end.

Ellie helped you get dressed and got dressed herself. The two of you stood there awkwardly, just waiting for the other to speak. You held your arms out in hopes she would hug you. She smiled and scooped you up, holding you tightly against her chest.

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Els. I’ll see you around.”

Ellie set you down and grabbed your hand. She led you to the door and opened it for you. You slowly slipped out of her grip, turning back to get another look before going back to your dorm. Ellie leaned against the frame, her eyes glistening as she tried hard not to break down. You made it to the door and looked back to see Ellie was peeking out of hers to watch you go inside. You smiled and chuckled softly.

“I made it safely,” you called out.

“I know. Just had to make sure.”

This was something the two of you have been doing since y’all started college. Usually once you got inside, Ellie would text you something stupid. You wondered if she would as you turned the knob and shut the door behind you. Before you could start to process everything that happened, your phone beeped. You began to cry and laugh as you read the text Ellie sent.

Making sure you didn’t fall on your way to the bed

I stumbled a little but made it just fine

Good. I love you. See you whenever.

I love you too.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x you #tlou2 #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #the last of us #the last of us part two #angst #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader angst #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #tlou part 2

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thoughtsforsoob · 3 months

Note

Hiii!Can I ask for "arguments with txt" with comfort at the end?

arguments with txt

a/n: I just made like a texts version of this so please check out my last post! I will fulfill this request by making a more long form version about what arguments with them are like/about. (I hate conflict. If people are arguing or fighting in front of me, I will run off or just straight up have a panic attack, it's happened before. trust me. witnessing school fights in hs was not kind to me). I hope this is okay too :) hehe you almost got 2 parts in a way. Please enjoy! I’m currently cleaning out my inbox so idk how fast it’ll get done but I promise im doing my best. Thank you!!!

Yeonjun

Argument’s with him are very uncommon. He often time doesn’t take them very seriously that frustrates you to no end. You and him tend to argue about little things which is surprise because you seem to talk out all of the big things you guys go through. It’s very confusing to say the least. He’ll get upset with you for little things like for example: leaving your dish in the sink for later. It drives him up the wall and it really shouldn’t. His tactics for when he’s upset is to just get away from you and ignore you for an hour or two. you already know his habits so you just leave him be. He’s not really good at admitting he’s wrong or that his behavior was pointless but he knows it in his head. Over time, he’ll stop doing things like this but just give him some time. He’s adjusting to being the both of you in the apartment and not just him.

Soobin

it's so hard to argue with him because he will never want to face your issues head on. he's shy in nature so any conflict makes him nervous and he retreats, avoiding talking about it. he would much rather forgive and forget without say much at all. sometimes, though, it's impossible to forgive and forget without saying anything. when those situations so arise, you have to sit him down and talk to him very calmly. he responds better to this type of conversations. anyways, he is very silent when it comes to arguments as well. you can tell he's upset because his responses are so short and cold. the best way to ask him to talk is just asking him straight but with a very calm voice so as to not make him upset even more.

Beomgyu

I would hare to argue with him. He's so unresponsive when it comes to arguments. The only things he does is sit there and listen to you talk to him about what he's done wrong, roll his eyes with a huff and then just spew out all kinds of meant things. He knows what he's saying but he doesn't;t think it'll affect you in the long wrong. During one argument, you were getting on him about picking up his game remote from the couch and putting them into the little box you bought him for all the cables and remotes to are stored in. you also threw in a little comment about picking his dirty clothes off the bathroom floor and he lost it. he said you were lazy and did the same thing too (leaving your clothes behind). he only realizes what he's done when you start to cry right in front of him. he goes nuts apologizing and will def come to his senses when he sees you this way.

Taehyun

he will sit there at argue with you for hours, upon hours, upon hours. he is not going to back down because he hates being wrong. even if he knows he's wrong, he hates admitting it. he always eventually admits his faults but it takes a while. he is so stubborn and it causes quite a few issues in your relationship. something this causes the both of you to fight over the most silly things ever. one of the silliest ones for example was when you were talking about how much you loved in actor in a movie you had watched he'd recently. he insists that it was someone else and eventually he realizes hes wrong but he hates to say he made a mistake. he gives you silent treatment for a few hours and when that time is up, he goes to look for you and tells you to get ready because you're going to get food with him. he is such a mom when it comes to apologizing (my mom loves to mend our issues with a trip for boba or a trip to target where she buys me snacks or a new shirt or something).

Huening Kai

he is just like soobin in the aspect of a relationship. non-confrontational to the bone. arguments trigger his fight or flight and it frustrates him when arguments run too long. arguments with him are always about him putting himself down or not letting himself rest enough when he is clearly exhausted. thats all. you too can usually talk things out due to your extremely close bond but sometimes things get out of hand and you have to get on his case. it usually starts with him coming home in tears and beyond frustrated. this is almost always because he sat in the practice room and read comments left by mean people. or because ehe was struggling with a new choreography. you try to help him by telling him to wash up and get rest but he completely just blows up on you and tells you to butt out. you leave him alone but he realizes his mistake when he see you on the couch, covered with a blanket, watching tv without him. he sits next to you and apologizes. he is not someone who hates being wrong. if he's wrong, he'll apologize with no hesitation.

#txt fluff #txt imagines #txt headcanons #txt x reader #txt reactions #soobin x reader #yeonjun #soobin fluff #yeonjun x reader #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fluff #taehyun fluff #taehyun x reader #huening kai fluff #huening kai imagines #huening kai x reader

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hd-junglebook · 2 months

Text

Little Dove

Part 3

a:n This is just full-on fluff and also my first attempt at something a little heated which probably sucks. If anyone wants to write smut for me pls lmk your girl is struggling. Also warning this is not proofread AT ALL.

Masterlist Link

Summary: To forgive you have to be strong, but all y/n needed was love before her last piece of resolve crumbled for the man she found herself so in love with.

Word Count - 4782

The house was enveloped in an unsettling stillness, a heavy silence that seemed to permeate every room. The only sound that pierced the quiet was the steady drumming of water from the bathroom, where steam billowed out from behind the shower curtain like a ghostly veil.

Inside the shower, Y/N stood motionless, her eyes closed as the scalding water cascaded over her skin, enveloping her in its comforting warmth. The heat of the water mixed with the salt of her tears, creating dark rivulets of melted makeup that swirled down the drain in a hypnotic dance.

Lost in her thoughts, Y/N didn't hear the soft creak of the bathroom door opening, nor the rustle of clothing being discarded on the tiled floor. It wasn't until the sudden yank of the shower curtain that she was jolted from her reverie, her eyes flying open in alarm as she instinctively reached for a towel to cover herself.

But instead of an intruder, she found herself staring into the intense, stormy eyes of Quinn. He stood before her, his chest heaving with barely contained emotion, his hair already damp from the steam that filled the room.

Without a word, he stepped into the shower behind her, the heat of his skin pressing against her back as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Y/N tensed for a moment, her heart racing at the unexpected intimacy of his touch.

But as Quinn's fingers splayed across her stomach, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on her skin, she felt herself melting into his embrace.

A deep, shuddering sigh escaped Quinn's lips, the warmth of his breath tickling the sensitive skin of Y/N's neck. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I should've told you how I felt. I waited too long, and now things between us aren't okay."

She shook her head, droplets of water flying from her hair as she turned to face him within the circle of his arms.

"I was happy having you here like this," she whispered, her voice trembling as she met his gaze. "But I won't keep waiting for you to be ready to love me."

Quinn's eyes softened, a flicker of pain crossing his features at the hurt he heard in her voice. He raised a hand to her face, his fingers gently brushing away the strands of wet hair that clung to her cheeks.

"You don't have to wait anymore," he said earnestly, his voice low and filled with conviction. "I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart skipping a beat at the sincerity in his words. She searched his face for any sign of doubt or hesitation, but found only a raw, unguarded vulnerability that made her own eyes sting with fresh tears.

Quinn leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers as the water continued to beat down on them, steam rising in lazy tendrils around their bodies.

"I don’t want to be with anyone else, Y/N," he whispered, his lips brushing against hers with each word. "I'm sorry it took me so long to say it but I just want to be with you. I’m ready to make things work with us."

…

In the soft, ethereal light of dawn, Y/N stirred from her slumber, the gentle rustling of sheets accompanying her movements as she turned over in the bed. The comforter, a whisper of silk and down, slipped from her arms like a lover's caress as she sat up.

Beside her, Quinn's sleeping form lay still, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breath. At the sudden shift in weight, he groaned, a low, rumbling sound that seemed to emanate from deep within his chest.

His eyelids fluttered, fighting against the pull of consciousness, before finally blinking open to reveal eyes still hazy with the remnants of sleep.

Y/N couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, his features softened by the golden glow that filtered through the curtains. In that moment, she knew with a certainty that burned bright and fierce within her chest that there was nothing she wouldn't do for him.

If Quinn asked her to move mountains, she would find a way to reshape the very earth beneath their feet.

As if sensing her thoughts, Quinn's lips curled into a slow, lazy smile. A quiet laugh escaped him, the sound rough and honey-sweet in the stillness of the morning. "Stop staring at me," he mumbled, his voice thick with the remnants of sleep.

With a tender touch, he reached out to brush away the strands of hair that had fallen across Y/N's face, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of her cheek. The simple gesture held a world of meaning, a silent promise of the love and devotion that flowed between them like a river, deep and endless.

Y/N leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the warmth of his skin against hers. In that moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist, the only reality the cocoon of their bed and the love that enveloped them like a second skin.

She thought of all the moments that had led them to this point, the trials and heartaches they had endured to find each other. But as she looked into Quinn's eyes, she saw a future stretching out before them, a path illuminated by the light of their love.

With a contented sigh, Y/N lay back down, her head coming to rest on Quinn's chest. She listened to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the sound a soothing lullaby that seemed to whisper a secret language only they could understand.

Quinn's arms encircled her, holding her close as if he never wanted to let her go.

The morning light continued to dance across their skin, painting them in shades of gold and amber. Quinn's eyes sparkled with a sudden idea. "Hey," he said, his voice still slightly raspy from sleep, "why don't we do something fun today? Just the two of us."

Y/N propped herself up on her elbow, her curiosity piqued. "What did you have in mind?"

Quinn's brow furrowed in thought for a moment before his face lit up with excitement. "I know! We could go horseback riding. Or maybe I could teach you how to ice skate. There's nothing more romantic than gliding across the ice together, hand in hand."

Y/N's heart swelled at the thought, a giddy excitement bubbling up inside her. "I love both of those ideas," she said, a wide grin spreading across her face.

"Let's do it." they both climbed out of bed, Quinn headed to the bathroom to freshen up, Y/N padded into the kitchen, her bare feet cool against the tile floor.

She filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove, the soft click of the burner a comforting sound in the quiet of the morning. As she waited for the water to boil, she busied herself with preparing Quinn's favorite tea, measuring out the loose leaves with care and arranging his mug just the way he liked it.

Lost in her task, Y/N didn't hear Quinn enter the kitchen until she felt his arms wrap around her waist from behind. She leaned back into his embrace, a contented sigh escaping her lips as he pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

"You're too good to me," he murmured, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder as he watched her work.

Y/N turned in his arms, her hands sliding up his chest to loop around his neck. "You deserve nothing less," she said softly, her eyes shining with love and adoration.

As they stood there, swaying gently in the middle of the kitchen, Quinn's expression grew thoughtful. "You know," he said, his voice taking on a wistful tone, "growing up, it was always just me and my younger brothers, Jack and Luke. We were inseparable."

Y/N's heart warmed at the fondness in his voice, the love he clearly held for his siblings. "Tell me about them," she urged gently, her fingers playing with the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

Quinn's eyes took on a faraway look as he lost himself in memories. "Jack was always the mischievous one, always getting us into trouble with his crazy schemes. And Luke, he was the sensitive one, the peacemaker who always knew just what to say to make everything better."

Y/N listened intently, captivated by the snippets of Quinn's past, the pieces of himself he was entrusting to her. She could picture them in her mind's eye, three young boys with the same sparkling eyes and infectious grins, their laughter echoing through the halls of their childhood home.

But as Quinn continued to speak, his voice grew tinged with sadness. "I miss them," he admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I hardly get to see them anymore, except for a few weeks in the summer when we all manage to get together."

Y/N's heart ached for him, for the longing she heard in his voice. She cupped his face in her hands, gently tilting his chin up until his eyes met hers. "Hey," she said softly, her thumb brushing across his cheekbone, "why don't we plan a trip to visit them?”

Quinn's eyes widened in surprise, a hopeful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Really? You'd want to do that?"

Y/N nodded, her own smile bright and earnest. "Of course I would. They're a part of you, Quinn, and I want to know every part of you."

With a sudden, desperate need to show her the depth of his feelings, Quinn surged forward, his hands cupping Y/N's face with a tenderness that belied the urgency of his movements.

His lips found hers, the contact electric and all-consuming, a kiss that seemed to hold within it all the words he had never been able to say.

Y/N melted into his embrace, her own hands coming up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as if she couldn't bear even the slightest distance between them. Their lips moved together in a dance of passion and devotion, each brush of skin against skin a silent promise of forever.

Quinn poured every ounce of his love into the kiss, his touch reverent and worshipful as he memorized the feel of her in his arms. He tried to convey with his actions what he couldn't find the words to express, the sheer magnitude of his feelings for her, the way she had become the very air he breathed.

Y/N responded in kind, her own love for him evident in the way she clung to him, her body molding perfectly to his as if they had been crafted from the same star-strewn clay.

She kissed him back with a fervor that stole the breath from his lungs, her lips parting in silent invitation as she welcomed him into the very heart of her.

Quinn lost himself in the taste of her, the scent of her skin, the soft sighs that escaped her lips as he trailed kisses along the column of her throat.

It was a kiss that spoke of forever, of two souls finally finding their way home to each other after a lifetime of searching.

When they finally broke apart, their chests heaving and their eyes glazed with the heady rush of desire, Quinn rested his forehead against Y/N's, his breath mingling with hers in the scant space between their lips.

The kettle began to whistle, the shrill sound breaking through the tender moment. Y/N turned back to the stove, pouring the boiling water over the tea leaves, and watching as the liquid bloomed with rich, earthy colors.

She handed Quinn his mug, the steam curling invitingly from its surface, and together they settled at the kitchen island.

…

The ice rink was a glittering expanse of white, the soft scrape of blades against the frozen surface mingling with the laughter and chatter of the other skaters.

Y/N clung to the side of the rink, her knuckles white as she gripped the railing, her legs wobbling unsteadily beneath her.

Quinn glided up beside her, his movements graceful and effortless, a stark contrast to Y/N's unsteady shuffling. He bit back a grin at the look of intense concentration on her face, the way her brow furrowed and her tongue poked out slightly as she focused on keeping her balance.

"Okay, now move your left foot towards me," he instructed, his voice gentle and encouraging.

Y/N shot him a skeptical look, her eyes narrowing as she caught the hint of amusement in his tone. "Easy for you to say, Mr. Hockey Star," she grumbled, her words laced with a playful sarcasm. "We can't all be born with blades attached to our feet."

Quinn let out a soft chuckle, the sound warm and rich in the crisp air of the rink. "Stop laughing at me, it isn't funny," Y/N whined, her bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Quinn said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I promise I'm not laughing at you. I just find your determination incredibly adorable."

Y/N's cheeks flushed pink at his words, a pleased smile tugging at the corners of her mouth despite her best efforts to maintain her pretend annoyance. "Flattery will get you nowhere, mister," she said, wagging a finger at him.

Quinn grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, come on, you've got to admit this is fun. And just think, by the end of the day, you'll be skating circles around me."

Y/N snorted, the sound decidedly unladylike. "Yeah, right. The only circles I'll be making are the ones my butt leaves on the ice when I inevitably fall."

Quinn laughed outright at that, the force of his amusement causing him to wobble slightly on his skates. Y/N's eyes widened in alarm, her hand shooting out to grab his arm, steadying him even as she struggled to keep her own balance.

"Whoa there, hotshot," she said, her voice teasing. "Looks like I'm not the only one who needs a lesson or two."

Quinn's eyes softened, his gaze locked on the point where her hand rested on his arm. "Maybe you're right," he said, his voice low and filled with a sudden intensity.

"Maybe we should forget about the skating and find something else to do. Something that involves a little less clothing and a lot more body heat."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart skipping a beat at the implication behind his words. She swallowed hard, her gaze darting to his lips before meeting his eyes once more. "I thought you'd never ask," she murmured, her voice husky with desire.

But just as Quinn leaned in, his intentions clear, Y/N's foot slipped on the ice, sending her sprawling backwards with a yelp of surprise. Quinn's arms shot out, catching her just before she hit the ground, his laughter ringing out across the rink as he pulled her close.

"Looks like we'll have to save that particular lesson for later," he said, his breath warm against her ear. "For now, let's focus on getting you comfortable on the ice."

Y/N groaned, her head falling forward to rest on his chest. "Fine," she said, her voice muffled by his jacket. "But you owe me a hot chocolate after this. And maybe a foot rub."

Quinn grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Anything for you, my love. Anything for you."

…

Y/N and Quinn glided around the rink, their hands intertwined and their laughter echoing off the ice, Y/N couldn't help but notice the attention Quinn was attracting from the other skaters. A group of girls, all long legs and perfect hair, kept skating by them, their eyes locked on Quinn's handsome face and athletic frame.

One of the girls, a blonde with a dazzling smile, broke away from the group and skated up beside them, her movements graceful and assured. "Hey there," she said, her voice low and flirtatious. "I couldn't help but notice your technique. You're really good on the ice."

Quinn smiled politely, but Y/N could see the discomfort in his eyes. "Thanks," he said, his voice neutral. "I play hockey, so I spend a lot of time on skates."

The girl's eyes widened, her interest clearly piqued. "Hockey, huh? That's so cool. I love a man who knows how to handle a stick."

Y/N's jaw clenched, her grip on Quinn's hand tightening involuntarily. She knew the girl was just flirting, but the blatant innuendo made her skin crawl.

Quinn, sensing Y/N's discomfort, gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Thanks, but I'm actually here with my girlfriend," he said, his voice firm but polite. "If you'll excuse us, we'd like to get back to our skate."

The girl's smile faltered, her gaze darting to Y/N as if noticing her for the first time. "Oh, of course," she said, her voice slightly strained. "Sorry to interrupt."

With that, she skated away, rejoining her group of friends who were still watching Quinn with undisguised interest. Y/N sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as they continued their circuit around the rink.

"I'm sorry about that," Quinn said, his voice low and apologetic. "Those girls are just puck bunnies. They're always hanging around the rink, trying to get the attention of the players."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "Puck bunnies? Is that what you call them?"

Quinn chuckled, the sound warm and rich in the cool air of the rink. "Yeah, it's a hockey term. They're like groupies, but for hockey players instead of musicians."

Y/N shook her head, a rueful laugh escaping her lips. "Well, I guess I can't blame them. You are pretty irresistible, after all."

Quinn grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, is that so? And here I thought you were just with me for my skating lessons."

Y/N laughed outright at that, the sound bright and joyful in the crisp air. "Well, that's definitely a perk," she teased, bumping her hip against his. "But I guess your rugged good looks and charming personality don't hurt either."

Quinn's gaze softened, his hand coming up to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. "I'm the lucky one," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "I get to be with the most beautiful, amazing woman in the world."

Y/N's heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his gaze making her feel like the most cherished person in the world. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, the taste of him warm and familiar on her tongue.

…

Y/N pushed open the front door of her apartment, the warmth of the interior a welcome respite from the chill of the ice rink. She stepped inside, her cheeks flushed from the cold and the exertion of their skating adventure. Quinn followed close behind, his presence a solid, comforting warmth at her back.

As Quinn shut the door behind them, Y/N couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation run through her body. The air between them seemed to crackle with electricity, the tension that had been building all day finally reaching a boiling point.

She walked towards the bedroom, her steps slow and deliberate, acutely aware of Quinn's presence behind her. She could feel his gaze on her, the weight of his desire a tangible thing in the stillness of the apartment.

Just as she reached the threshold of the bedroom, Y/N turned to look at Quinn over her shoulder, a coy smile playing at the corners of her mouth. But the words died on her lips as she caught sight of his expression, the raw hunger in his eyes stealing the breath from her lungs.

In two quick strides, Quinn closed the distance between them, his hands coming up to cup her face as he claimed her mouth in a searing kiss. Y/N melted into his embrace, her own hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as she opened to him, welcoming the slide of his tongue against her own.

Her fingers danced below his stomach, softly caressing the skin before tugging his waistband forward. Her hand sneaks into his boxers finding his hard length, hot and dripping. She squeezed the base leaving Quinn to do nothing but groan.

Y/N gasped as Quinn's mouth found the sensitive spot just below her ear, his teeth grazing the delicate skin and sending shivers of pleasure racing down her spine.

She arched into him, her fingers pulling harder, holding him close to her body as he trailed a path of open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat.

When her hand came up to tangle in the curls of his hair, something snapped in him. Strong hands gripped her hips, tight enough to bruise the skin even through the fabric of her jeans.

They tumbled onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, the softness of the mattress a welcome contrast to the hardness of Quinn's body above her. Y/N's hands found the waistband of his jeans, her fingers fumbling with the button in her haste to feel his skin against her own.

Quinn groaned, his hips rocking against hers, the friction delicious and maddening all at once. "God, Y/N," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "You have no idea how you drive me crazy."

Y/N smiled, a wicked gleam in her eye as she leaned up to capture his lips once more. "Then show me," she whispered.

And with a growl of need, Quinn pulled her smaller form below him, her knees on either side of his hips. Quinn left a trail of love bites down to the line of her pants where he struggled to get the tight jeans off her thighs.

The feeling of him moving against her and around her had her eyes fluttering closed. They moved together in a dance as old as time itself, their bodies perfectly in sync, their hearts beating as one. Quinn exhaled, leaning back to tug down his briefs.

Her core throbs when he wraps his long fingers around himself, the sigh of relief he lets out as he touches himself makes her squirm from her position under him.

Adjusting his weight, he rested lightly on her and heavily on the elbows that were now on either side of her head. He tucked his head into her neck as they he lined himself up, using one hand to push himself inside of her.

y/n gasps at the intrusion, the feeling of her nails digging into his back hard enough to draw blood.

In the afterglow, as they lay tangled together beneath the sheets, their skin slick with sweat and their chests heaving with the force of their release, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the love she felt for the man in her arms.

Quinn was everything she had ever wanted, everything she had ever needed, and she knew that she would spend the rest of her life loving him with every fiber of her being.

As if sensing her thoughts, Quinn pulled her closer, his arms tightening around her waist as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "I love you," he murmured, his voice soft and filled with wonder. "More than anything in this world."

Y/N smiled, her heart so full she thought it might burst. "I love you too," she whispered, her words a promise and a vow all at once. "Always and forever."

…

Y/N sat at her desk, staring at the email that had just arrived in her inbox. The subject line read "Job Offer - Senior Marketing Manager," and as she scanned the contents of the message, her heart began to race.

"What?" she whispered to herself. "They actually chose me?"

With trembling hands, Y/N clicked on the email, her eyes scanning the contents of the message. As she read through the details of the offer, her excitement grew, a smile spreading across her face. "holy fucking shit," she muttered, her mind already racing with the possibilities.

The prestigious marketing firm she had interviewed with weeks ago was offering her a position that perfectly aligned with her skills and a chance to leave her parents’ miserable company.

However, there was one significant caveat: the job was located in another city, far from her current life and the comfort of her family's business.

Y/N leaned back in her chair, her mind whirling with the implications of accepting the offer. She knew that taking this job would mean charting her own path, changing her relationship with Quinn.

She knew that he would be supportive and encouraging, but she couldn't help but feel a twinge of nervousness about how this change might impact their relationship. They had grown so close, and the idea of starting a new chapter in a different city without him by her side was daunting.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N resolved to discuss the offer with her parents before making any final decisions. She hoped that they would understand her desire for growth and independence, and that they would support her in this exciting new venture.

Y/N stood up from her desk and made her way to her father's office. She knocked on the door softly, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for his response.

"Come in," Derek's voice called out from behind the closed door.

Y/N entered the office, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as she approached her father's desk. Derek looked up from his work, his brow furrowed in concern as he took in his daughter's serious expression.

"Dad, I need to talk to you about something important," Y/N began, her voice steady despite the nervousness that fluttered in her stomach. "I've been offered a job at a marketing firm in another city, and I'm considering accepting it."

As Y/N shared the news of the job offer with her father, Derek's expression shifted from one of mild concern to intense disappointment and anger. His brows furrowed, and his jaw clenched tightly as he processed the information.

"You can't be serious, Y/N," Derek said, his voice low and filled with disapproval. "After everything we've done for you, after all the time and resources we've invested in your career, you're just going to throw it all away?"

Y/N flinched at her father's harsh tone, but she stood her ground. "Dad, this isn't about being ungrateful. This is about my future, my dreams. I have the opportunity to build a career that truly fulfills me, and I can't just ignore that."

Derek scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Fulfills you? What about your commitment to this family, to our business? We've been grooming you to take over, to carry on our legacy. And now you're telling me you want to abandon all of that for some job in another city?"

Y/N could feel her frustration growing, but she tried to remain calm. "I'm not abandoning anything, Dad. I'm trying to create my own path, to find my own success. Why can't you understand that?"

Derek's face reddened, his anger boiling over. "Understand? What I understand is that you're being selfish and disloyal. You're not ready for a change like this, Y/N. You don't have what it takes to make it on your own. Mark my words, you'll come crawling back when things don't work out, begging for your old job back."

Tears stung Y/N's eyes at her father's belittling words, but she refused to let them fall. She had worked too hard and come too far to let his negativity tear her down.

"You're wrong, Dad," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I am ready for this, and I will make it work. I'm sorry if you can't see that, but I won't let your doubts hold me back."

Derek's eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward in his chair, his gaze intense and unyielding. "We'll see about that. In the meantime, I expect you to invite Quinn over for dinner on Sunday. And before you even think about arguing, know that this isn't a request. It's a demand."

Y/N's stomach churned at the thought of subjecting Quinn to her father's scrutiny and control, but she knew she had no choice. With a curt nod, she turned and left the office, her heart heavy with the weight of her father's disappointment and the challenges that lay ahead.

As she walked back to her own office, Y/N pulled out her phone and began to compose a text to Quinn.

…

Tag List <3

@jamieeboulos, @shawnshoney, @fearfam69691 , @njdkatie

@dancerbailey3, @alwaysclassyeagle, @snailss

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yourlocalstranger123 · 9 months

Note

Hello may I request a yandere Imbibitor Lunae (From HSR) with a reader who is a writer and very lazy doesn't mind getting kidnapped as long as the reader (You could pick the gender if u could a male) can write and very flirty and openly affectionate

Take care ❤

I'm not actually sure what you meant, but I'm just guessing that you'd prefer me doing a male so ima do it <3 of course, there isn't much details/words saying out-loud the reader is male so it can still be seen as any gender!

《 I am so sorry if you just wanted full fluff and ur a minor. If you do not feel comfortable with the pictures at the end, I don't mind taking it down!! Again, IM SO SORRY IF U DO FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE (つд；*) 》

Warning!: Kidnapping?, ofc yandere theme, broken stuff, stalking, containment, blood, murder, also slight sexual themes under the 2nd set of pictures(aka the mostly sussy one)

MINORS DNI Unless you are okay seeing some slight sexual themes. It's not fully smut, so it's okay rn.

A/N: I will still put gn, female, male reader tags but if you think that the reader is too manly or smt, I'll change it. And sorry if I used wrong tags ALSO ARTIST CREDIT IS AT THE END (except for the official art bc it's og from hsr so)

Info for reader's figure: SORRY IF U DIDN'T WANT THE MALE(or any gender since it doesn't clarify that the reader is a male) READER TO BE TALLER AND IG SLIGHTLY LARGER? IM SORRY. (´д｀|||)

–◇{Imbibitor Lunae}◇–

You simply went out for groceries. Buying some decent ingredients to make food. As you were walking back to your house, you felt someone was watching you. Looking around to see no one's eyes looked at you, you simply shrugged off the feeling and walked home tiredly. (If you had a sharp eye, you would've seen horns and a tail sticking out behind a tree....suprised that no one saw him)

You put the ingredients in the fridge, not feeling like eating dinner today. Yawning as you simply flopped down onto the bed, not even bothering to change clothes. As your eyes finally close as you drift off to sleep, you feel a figure hovering over you. But of course, you didn't get up since it was soooo comfy. Who wants to get off of bed when they FINALLY get a comfortable position to sleep.

So the figure took its advantage and....held your hand-? You feel the figure holding both of their hands to hold yours. You started to feel a bit uneasy. Maybe this is just a dream! Surely it is... you felt the other side of the bed droop as the weight of the person was on it. You can feel them trying to snuggle into your embrace, hearing them hesitantly sigh in delight as they get closer in contact.

This must be a very strange but nice dream..... The next morning, you sat up and stretched out your arms, then remembering that strange "dream" you experienced. Quickly turned your head to the other side of the bed, and you found nothing. Perhaps it was just a realistic dream! Surely no one broke into your house without any traces or not even do anything bad!(yet)

You heard something crashing, quickly running out of your room. You see a bunch of shattered plates, glasses, a broken chair, and....He even dropped the books you hard-workingly wrote on! Is he serious?! You went up to the figure, seeing his eyes widen, but you didn't care. You started lightly scolding him for breaking your books! Now you have to write the whole thing again!(the book wasn't totally a fan fiction, lmao)

His face clearly showed confusion as you continued lightly scolding him. Seeing his tail slightly droop, you stopped and sighed. Forgiving him, you were about to wave him off until you felt his tail wrapping around your leg before he crossed his arms. Frowning(pouting) at you and refused to let you go. You were about to try to get out of his grasp to re-organize the books that fell, but you soon felt dizzy, passing out before you felt him hugging you.

You found yourself in a locked room(his room?) with chains that were tied onto the bed to restrict you going too far. You heard footsteps as you saw a head with horns peeking out of the doorway, then the figure finally showed himself. (why dies he have blood on him?)

You could see him hesitating but soon let himself lay his head on your lap. Tilting his head up to look at you, quietly asking what you want for breakfast. (he's quite cute even though he had blood on him, and the blood is slightly smearing on your shirt and pants) You simply ask for an apple.

He tilted his head in confusion, asking you again, what PROPER breakfast meal do you want. (Yeah, you should get a proper meal. You know who you are) You said again, an apple. He sighed and regrettably had to leave your warmth to give you an apple. (Why weren't you mad at him? Aren't you scared that he kidnapped you?)

Before he left the door, you asked him to give you a pen or pencil and a paper if he could. Which he complied and did, only sitting beside you and watching you write a story down. But as he tried to read it, you covered his face and put away the paper. He tried to move your hands, but when he did, he felt you kiss his forehead. He quickly scooted away, trying to process what had just happened. You kissed him???.....That means you love him, right? It has to be!

You could see the blush forming around his face and neck. Hearing you chuckle made him even blush more. "Oh my, you're red as a tomato!!" You said, slightly laughing. He becomes more embarrassed but so delighted because you love him! Surely, you even kissed him on his forehead! You won't go, you won't leave him or hate him.....right..? He held your hand, hoping for more affection from you. Seeking it, desiring it, needing it

Timeskip:

"Mine..." he mumbles as he snuggles against your palm. He shudders and lets out a soft sigh when you touch his horns. Rubbing the base of his horns, he watches you enjoy touching his horns as you smile. You were about to retract your hand, but he grabbed your wrist and begged for more of your affection and warmth.

Not wanting to let go of you, he wrapped his tail around your body and tightly hugged you in place. He looked so adorable when he frowns(pouts) as he looked up at you. You couldn't resist teasing him,

You held his chin and went closer to his lips. Which in return, his face becomes red as his thoughts explode and are scattered everywhere. He shuts his eyes, waiting for you to kiss him.....but you didn't. He opened his eyes after hearing you chuckle. How mean! You didn't give him a kiss :(

His face was full of shock and disappointment. He desperately tried to get a kiss from you, tugging your sleeve he politely asks for one. He was still satisfied when you smothered his face with kisses(except for the lips, sadly) he flinched when he felt your hands petting his tail. Covering his own mouth from letting out pleasurable sighs.

"You have such beautiful scales." You said, softly picking up the tail closer to your face and kissing it, making him feel flustered. You stared at the fluff on the end of his tail, so you softly pet it too. "It's quite fluffy and soft, I feel like I'm in some sort of paradise," you slightly laughed at the statement you made.

He retracts his tail, and he suddenly rips out a scale from it. He hissed at the pain but soon held both of your hands and put the scale onto it. It was a token of his love. "I would do anything for you to prove my love, even if I have to get my hands dirty, even if I have to injure myself too. So please love me back," He begs. His sanity and life are in your hands. You were still shocked and concerned as he said this. Hearing you sigh, he panicked. Did he do something wrong? He's sorry! Please forgive him, he'll try his best to fix it! :(

He becomes putty in your hands, letting you bandage his tail (although it was a bit hard since his tail was thrashing around as he was very happy for some reason.) You kissed the injury on his tail, making him tilt his head in wonder and blush....

Soon, he lets you out of the room and even outside! Of course not without him. He glares daggers into people. If his stare could kill people, the whole world wouldn't even exist. He was about to kill the merchant that touched your hand! How dare they touch you?! (Poor merchant was trying to give you a sample of food)

And he kills the people who try to flirt with you and dispose of their corpse. He comes home all bloody as you scold him. You had to take HOURS to wash the blood off of him. And it's even worse when it got on the fur of his tail! (One time, he whimpered and moaned by accident when you scrubbed his horns and tail....didn't appear for a whole week unless u were going outside)

But he becomes sooooo flustered when you flirt with him and especially in public. (He thought you were showing people that he was yours....I mean, I can't say it's not true)

He always whines and begs if you don't give him your attention and affection. And of course, all of your love within 2 minutes. And if you don't, you'll have to comfort him that you do love him because he starts over-thinking that you don't anymore or he has done something wrong.

He was getting some empty books for you to write on until he found a book with the exact same writing.....(he may or may have bought it) he definitely bought it. He read the whole context, and whenever you were near him lately, his face turned redder than red itself! (The book was about you and him love life)

Oh, how he loves you.....he wonders how you'll react when he gives you the heart of the person you hate..well, he won't do it now until marriage.

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starsworldd · 1 year

Text

astro observations pt. 10 ⭐️

only take what resonates + take with a grain of salt <3

✦ whatever sign you have in the 6th house shows what qualities you want to improve on:

saggitarius: knowledge, wisdom, opportunities for yourself

leo: creativity, charisma, garnering attention

capricorn: how you complete goals, responsibilities, ambition

✦ unpopular probably but the stereotype that scorpio risings have (alluring, attractive, mysterious, etc..) leo risings ARE

✦ and speaking of scorpio risings i feel like this placement is a mix between cancer and leo rising

✦ everybody saying that saturn in 2nd house have struggles making salaries or whatever but truth be told this placement is a god damn HUSTLER. saturn is like the glow-up planet so it being in the 2nd house means that once these people know what their values are and how to maintain a good work ethic and emotional stability they become so powerful

✦ people who have their 11th house ruler in the 7th may often find themselves pairing up with a friend instead of being with the friend group

✦ i feel like 8th house neptune’s are the type to really like asmr

✦ 6th house suns are competitive

✦ venus-jupiter aspects (especially trine + sextile) are loved easily by people

✦ aries midheaven people give off hero archetype vibes

✦ astrology is about polarity:

11th house pluto people may often face hate/jealousy/obsession from other people. so how does this placement deal with the pressure? it turns to its opposite house (5th) of fun, creativity, and happiness to transform and and to relieve itself. but they affect each other so when 5th house themes dominate, 11th house themes come in to balance and back and forth and so on…

✦ saggiatrius rising people age well it doesn’t have to just be looks but they maintain an adventurous personality for quite awhile

✦ gemini sun people i find are kind of introverted but when they do speak they connect and execute their thoughts with others well

✦ virgo venus people really like pastel + overly colorful clothes and aesthetics

✦ people who have their 10th house ruler in the 12th have a multitude of careers that they want to pursue

✦ moon in 12th house people have felt hurt by being too nice and forgiving to people

✦ libra and capricorn in the big 6 make someone a leader and easily respected by the masses (also very classy vibes)

✦ aquarius moon people like synthy and spacey type of music (if this makes sense😭)

✦ gemini placements and their use of the MOST RANDOM emojis when they text (they’re like, “hey i just went to the store today✈️✈️✈️” like girl which store the one in australia???)

✦ virgo mars are good cooks

✦ people who have venus in retrograde are really lazy i find

hope you enjoyed!

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jenchan-writingmultis · 6 days

Note

I love your writings! Can I ask for oneshot with Vil and fem!Reader who is a prankster, troublemaker, is in Pomefiore, has a chaotic personality (something like Floyd mixed with sassy Epel's side). Her fashion sense is questionable by vil because she loves streetwear fashion (especially baggy clothes). Her unique magic lets her turning into anyone (ofc without getting that person's unique magic but imagine the moment when she turns into Neige to make vil's blood boiling)

Fluff/crack, kinda enemies to lovers, sfw (eventually A BIT suggestive)🤭

Beauty in Chaos

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪ Pairing: Vil x Chaotic Fem! Reader

A/n: hoooh this was a tough one! I hope you like it Anonnie! Hopefully, I hit the right spot for this reader! This wasn’t my best work, but I still hope you like it (╥﹏╥) Thank you so much for the request! Credits: The line breakers are from Kaomoji dividers!

Warning: SLIGHTLY suggestive, a bit of angst, mostly fluff. Rough Vil.

Reminders: Ma poupée is a French term of endearment that means "my doll". Masterlist

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Vil was confused, no he was outright appalled, not only was someone far from the vision of Pomefiore itself assigned to his dormitory, but you also didn’t even have an ounce of decency during the ceremony! Your clothing was ragged, not maintained and you had the audacity to tie the ceremonial robes like it was just some pajamas, he truly didn’t understand when the mirror said that your soul belonged in “Pomefiore”.

"Huh, didn't expect the Pomefiore dorm to be so fancy,” you walked toward Vil, offering him a lazy smile as if you hadn't just insulted him. He glared at you, then grabbed your robes, causing you to squeak in surprise. he began tugging and tying your robes properly. "Hey!" you whined, trying to push him away, but he continued fixing your "style" or whatever fashion disaster you had made of the robes.

“Stay still, you’re going to make this worse for yourself” he was fuming, with finishing touches he finally lets you go, making you huff. “Not cool dude.” you said before pouting.

“Dude?” Vil’s eyes narrowed on you, “From this day forward, you will call me Vil, or housewarden.” he fixes your hair, his fingers brushing your forehead, making you jump back a bit. The way your “housewarden” randomly touched people made you think he might be a weirdo.

“Okay, ‘Vil,’” you huffed, rolling your eyes, which made Vil angrier. He was being lenient with a fresh potato like you, but you seemed to be testing his patience. “Enough, you’re going to need training. Your behavior and style bring disgrace to Pomefiore’s name.” Hearing that, you pouted further. What exactly was wrong with being a little bit laid back? This guy was bonkers.

Before Vil could grab you to drag you with him, since you clearly didn’t want to cooperate, a tall man with a bob haircut stepped between you and Vil. “Roi de Poison,” he called out, his smile unwavering and affectionate. “I believe Ma poupée could learn a thing or two from your gracious self, yes?” His calming words instantly soothed Vil’s anger, prompting Vil to raise an eyebrow at Rook, and signaling him to elaborate.

“She’s just new here. With your guidance, she could blossom into something magnificent,” Rook continued, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Every freshman here has an eye-catching appearance and soul, as the mirror itself has said. You wouldn’t want her talent and appearance to go to waste, right?”

Vil pondered this, his gaze shifting back to you as Rook looked at you as well. Both men examined your face, then glanced at each other, seemingly communicating through their eyes.

While your style was a jumble of mess, you had a cute face, and he’s curious how you would survive, considering you’re a special case in Crowley’s book. “Potato” he signals you to follow him as he calls the other “fresh potatoes”.

Walking behind him, Rook patted your head, leaving you feeling confused. You looked up at him as he winked, his expression reassuring. “Forgive Roi de Poison for how he treated you earlier; he was on edge because of the ceremony,” he assured you, his gaze drifting back to his housewarden. “I hope to see you shine as brightly as he does, Ma poupée,” he continued. You didn’t quite understand his manner of speaking with all the French nicknames, which you didn’t bother trying to decipher. Nonetheless, his words were encouraging, so you thanked him sincerely.

You didn’t expect such a blatant display of hostility infront of you for a first day, watching as he had the freshmen along with you in one line, you thought that the Housewarden of Pomefiore looked so weak, all dainty and feminine but you guessed wrong since he held such authority, and the way he manhandled you earlier got you excited a bit. How strong, you want to push him to his limits.

The moment you got into your dorm, you were surprised with how huge the place is, tidy, neat and gorgeous, the aesthetic colliding with how yours, the way that Vil fixed your outfit was uncomfortable too, the waistband being too tight around your waist while the outfit was too… stuffy for your taste, sneakily undoing it a bit, you thought that Vil wouldn’t notice since he was busy giving some kind of dorm rules speech or whatever that is.

“Potato” he calls out, you continued to loosen up your outfit, not even thinking that the “Potato” he was talking about was you, till you heard light footsteps and a figure looming over you, that got you to jolt and look at him surprised. “Wha-"

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, all your rustling was distracting him. Great another confrontation, you smiled, “Uh, I dunno, I’m fixing my robe?” you answered, continuing your fixing, which in Vil’s eyes you’re putting it back into the style he didn’t like so much. “Is that so?”

The other freshmen were looking at you, sweat dropping while some remained silent and waiting for what Vil will do. “Your display of disobedience displeases me” he said as he smiles, a smile that got you stopping your endeavor, “After you finish “Fixing” your attire, please come meet me here after every freshman including you, has settled in their rooms.”

Extra lessons great, you’re not quite sure why Vil seemed to have hyperfixated on you, all you did have a “unique” style! The other freshmen along with the second years give you pitying look as you settle in the room you got, usually two people share the room, and lucky for you, you got to share it with your new friend, Epel.

“Dude,” he called you out, frowning, “He’s targeting you” he says worriedly, as he takes all his possessions out, while you on the other hand, didn’t bring much but necessities and a Gameboy that your guardian decided to put in your bag in case you get bored. “I can handle it,” you declared with confidence, as you sit down on the soft cushion of your bed. “Plus, it ain’t just me, you’re targeted too” you teased which cause Epel to stiffen up.

“He kept rambling about being the “poison apple” or something, he’s such a…” Epel stopped himself which made you laugh, however, that little moment was stopped abruptly when a knock at the door was heard.

“Vil said, it’s time for your training, come on out” A second-year student calls out as he walks away, expecting you to follow him, which if you didn’t, Vil would be dragging you out of your room, you stood up, Epel gave you a sad look before you pinched his cheek. “You’re making it look like I’m gonna get sacrificed to a demon”

“You are though!”

“shush” you laughed before walking out, Vil was sitting down on an extravagant couch, teacups on both sides and an intricate teapot in the middle. “Come, sit” he invited you to sit down obediently not taking no for an answer, and by habit, you seemed to have sat down with your legs wide open, an unbecoming display for a Pomefiore student.

“Close your legs” he places the teacup down, for your first day you disappointed him multiple times now, why must he teach you every etiquette that was supposed to be learnt during elementary?

“No,” you snide, somehow, his aura from earlier vanished and he just looked like a snappy mother. You placed your feet on the glass table, wanting to piss him off further.

Bad move, before you even placed your legs up, a firm surge of magic encircled your legs, keeping them suspended mid-air. An angry Vil using his magic to keep you from staining the table; He stood up abruptly, forcing you to lower your legs on the floor, grabbing your cheeks as he forced you to make eye contact with him.

“It seems like you don’t intend to learn and respect the rules under my authority” he says, stiffening up you tried to push his grip away from you, but it was firm, it didn’t hurt per se, it was just… rough.

“Hey, let me go” you squirmed causing him to lessen his grip on your cheeks, it was squished making you look like a pufferfish, and that accidentally activated your magic, causing a little poof as Vil pulled away, eyes widening as he sees the face of Neige, staring back at him with the same surprised expression. “Sorry- I didn’t mean” you said, as you tried to turn back, to no avail, your unique magic doesn’t let you since it’s the type of magic that you can’t just turn off, Vil who looked like he just saw a ghost. “What is your unique magic?” he asked, distancing himself, unnerved by the uncanny resemblance of your face to his enemy. You groan, you were gonna use it to leave the dormitory sometimes just to roam around the campus by yourself, it sucks you already got caught, first day too.

“My unique magic turns me into another person that the other despises” you explained, scratching the back of your neck before you realized who you just turned to. “Wait” you looked at your current form, noticing who it was, you looked at the glass table, before stifling a laugh. “You despise Neige?”

Vil on the other hand seemed to not be having any of your shenanigans, this was your first day and you were already trying to rile him up, thrice. “Do not do this to me” he warns as he clicks his tongue, your power was quite useful, you could work as a stunt double in movies. “Wow, Vil, I didn’t expect you to despise your rival this much though” Walking closer, you fluttered your eyelashes on him, it was a taunt, the face of Neige going closer to him in such a way made his blood boil.

“Come on, Vil-san” you teased him, using the voice of THE Neige Le blanche and the nickname you usually heard from Neige whenever they were together for an interview, and that made him snap, grabbing your collar, he pulls you closer to his face, his gaze on you cold, you could feel it piercing through your soul, its actually scary.

“Your pathetic excuse of wanting to be friends with me will not work on me” he murmurs, you froze a bit, noticing how he clenched on your uniform, you immediately knew that he wasn’t talking to you but rather the person who you morphed into, feeling guilty you held his hand, luckily your unique magic finally decided to get you back to your original form, you pulled him into a hug, unsure what to do as you rub his back.

Vil didn’t pull away, he stiffened up at first before he melted into the hug as he squeezes you a bit, an odd gesture, well it was odd for him to lose composure over a freshman.

“I apologize” he murmurs, he still wanted to continue hugging you, however, you two were in the living room, anyone can come and stay there in any moment, so he pulled away, fixing his uniform.

“It’s fine dude,” you said, smiling at him, trying to ease the tension, “We all got our moments, my bad that I triggered something in you” That wasn’t your intention, you didn’t want to see that again considering how upset Vil looked when you transformed into Neige.

“Dude again?” he sighs, although this time he wasn’t angry, maybe all that anger burst out when you shifted into someone he least wanted to see.

“Come now, it’s not bad, dude fits you! Or do you prefer dudette?” you joked as you jabbed his ribs a bit, he groaned before grabbing your head. “Behave” he scolds you, and that precious little moment was broken when Rook came, almost like he was going to cry.

“Magnifique display of affection and friendship! Roi De Poison! Ma poupée!” he says, jumping to both of you into a hug, you jolt before grunting as you laugh, hugging him back while Vil looks less inclined to hug the other back.

“Rook, unhand me” he says as he pushes the man gently, getting him to let go as he fixes his uniform once again. “Seriously” he says disappointedly as Rook smiles at him apologetically, “there is beauty in chaos Roi de poison” he continues, crossing his arms., “I’m sure you two would get along”

All of that happening in just the first day was impressive, you were quick to befriend Vil, although it was more like a frenemies type of friendship, you always end up making his head ache whenever you do things that made Pomefiore look shameful, like eating loudly, planting your legs on the couch when you go back to your dorm.

Christ! When he went to check on you and Epel’s room it was a mess! The pillows on the floor and the blankets too! Disorganized shelves, that day he forced you and Epel to wake up at the crack of dawn just to start deep cleaning your room.

Grumbling as while you were half asleep, trying to fix your bed, it was a task you purposefully did slowly, and Vil was starting to get angry as he grabbed your pillows placing it on the bed, “Why are you so slow?” he asked, pointing at Epel with his eyes, “Look at him, he finished in just 30 minutes, you’re barely cleaning”

Hearing that you smirked, bumping your shoulders to his “I have the great Vil Schoenheit in my bedroom, do you think I’d let that chance slip by?”

You swore you saw his cheeks heat up before he went to grab the rest of your “Things” if you even call it that, “Do not test me potato, I’m not easily swayed by sweet words” he says as he puts your stuff in the drawer, looking at Vil, you do notice how attractive he was, a few months ago, you wouldn’t even give it a thought, you saw him as a mother hen cause of how endearing he was, attentive but strict, all that jazz.

Seeing him in a different light though, you can tell why a lot of his fans always thirst over him, fair skin, tall, rich, and smart, is the definition of a perfect catch.

Noticing you looking at him, he couldn’t help but chuckle, he knew that gaze all too well, a stare that his fans often give him, although he wouldn’t be fazed by it, this was the first time he saw it on you.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I’m gonna catch a cold” he teased a bit, standing up before he pushed your head down, he felt a bit flustered with the way you stared at him, so he had to. You whined a bit before grabbing his wrist, “C’mon I was just admiring your beauty” you protested, which made him chuckle. “I know”

Despite your differences, you two were getting along well.

Word Count: 2,676

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #fluff #twst x reader #oneshot #twst fanfic #twst #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #vil x mc #vil shoenheit x reader

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