#you'd think I'd have enough AUs by now...

[queermentaldisaster]

Naga!Ghost, hiding in the woods, incubating a clutch of fertile Naga eggs he found in Roba's mansion, only to be found by a soldier from TF141 (it's Soap)

[lowkeyremi]

Arranged Marriage hcs with Toji (fem reader)

AU where Toji has cursed energy and was picked by the zenin clan. (he still hates them lol) also he doesn't meet mamagumi so megu is your biological son in this au :3

note: just some quick hcs cuz i couldn't get this thought out of my head. I've seen a bunch of arranged marriage satoru related things but I thought I'd switch it up. mentions of pregnancy

Arrangedhusband!Toji hates his family and refuses to get married just to fuck them over. (they want an heir)

Arrangedhusband!Toji who goes on a complete rampage when the news about his soon to be marriage finally reaches him through hushed whispers of some maids.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who immediately goes to see Naobito, former head of the Zenin Clan to ask what the fuck is going on.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who is enraged when he hears "you were given the opportunity to settle down yourself, but you didn't so we took matters into our own hands."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who requests to not have a wedding, he'll just sign the damn papers and get it over with.

Arrangedhusband!Toji doesn't visit you for at least a week upon your arrival. He's still pissed.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who finally decides to go visit you, he knocks on your door. You were given your own room to adjust to everything even though Naobito wanted you to be with Toji.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who's shocked when Mai opens the door and he sees you getting your hair done by Maki. The twins decorated your hair with a bunch of different flowers. (they're like maybe 10 in this)

Arrangedhusband!Toji who just stares at you. He doesn't say a word because he doesn't really know what to say. He didn't even know what you looked like until right now.

Arrangedhusband!Toji snaps out of his trance when you break the silence. "Good morning, Toji. It's nice to finally meet you." He catches on to your attitude at the end of your sentence and he doesn't even realize his lip quirking upward. Here he was thinking you'd be some damsel in distress, but it turns out you're pretty confident.

Arrangedhusband!Toji responds with "Uh, hey.." Is that the best he could come up with? You've left him at a loss for words.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who tries to get his shit together and deepens his voice to try and intimidate you a little. "Mornin', [name]. I'll send some maids over this way later. You are to accompany me for dinner tonight."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who hides a growing smile when you say, "Taking me on a first date after getting married? I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be the other way around."

Arrangedhusband!Toji sits at the table waiting for your arrival. After seeing you he wanted to spend some alone time getting to know you, but his mother insisted on throwing a proper welcome dinner with the whole family.

Arrangedhusband!Toji requested that you sit right next to him. When you arrive someone ushers you to your seat. He whispers quietly enough for only you to hear, "being late to a family dinner isn't a good look for ya, pretty."

"well, excuse me for getting lost like three times." you say with a roll of your eyes. Naobito clears his throat, and Toji sighs.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who mumbles "thank you for the food." so everyone could start eating. He gets a little defensive when Naobito bombards you with questions, "I hope you are settling in well, but I'll get straight to business. When do you think you'll be ready to bear a child?"

Arrangedhusband!Toji who gets ready to speak up for you but you quickly cut him off, "Not anytime soon, sir. No offense. I just met your nephew today. I did not come here to be bred like some dog. I came here to settle the dispute between our families." Everyone is shocked by your words. You just told off the former head of the clan..

Arrangedhusband!Toji is proud of you. "I agree with her." Naobito gives him a sour look before responding, "Toji, you need to get a better hold on your woman. She should have some manners."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who gets up from the table and hauls you over his shoulder. It's embarrassing to say the least but neither of you speak a word until you're far enough away.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who sets you down, a smirk prominent on his face, "That was so bad ass. No one's ever spoke to him that way."

"Really? Not even you? That's surprising, you seem like the rebellious type."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who really starts to grow on you. He follows you everywhere and he learns something new about you every day, as do you too. He never restricts your freedom and supports many of your actions.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who will even spar with you sometimes when you're looking to improve.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who feels his heart swell a little bit when you kiss him. He's never felt anything like this before, and he doesn't want to admit that he'll get used to it.

Arrangedhusband!Toji invites you to finally move into his own bedroom, since "we've been married for a few months now."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who likes seeing your stuff alongside his in his room.

Arrangedhusband!Toji feels happier than he has in years. All his family wanted to do was train him to perfection and treat 'worthless' women like shit. He didn't want any of that though. So he sees you as a blessing in disguise.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who itches to give you a baby after seeing how you are around his twin cousins. You're gentle, but you never forget to scold them when they get into trouble.

Arrangedhusband!Toji after your second year anniversary brings up the idea to you, "Not for the selfish reasons my uncle wants. Just for us. We could even live somewhere else." You two are sitting in your shared bedroom. His eyes tell no lies, "What do you mean by live somewhere else? I don't think it matters how far we go, baby. If Naobito catches wind of a potential Zenin heir he'll track us down."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who assures you he could take care of this situation, if you wanted to have a baby. He doesn't want his future child/children to have to go through the same abuse he went through.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who doesn't know that you're already a month or two pregnant.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who has one of his "friends" come get you to take you to your new home. "Toji, you should come with me. I don't think this is a good idea."

"I'll see you in a day or two. I love you, baby. Gojo, no funny business or I'll fuck you up." He threatens.

"Are you doubting me, my dear friend? I wouldn't let anything happen to your precious wife." Toji flip him off. You watch as his figure gets smaller and smaller until you can't see him anymore. (they're frenemies in this au)

Arrangedhusband!Toji who immobilizes his uncle, which takes great effort. He doesn't come out fully unscathed. He's okay, though. He's doing it for his and your future.

Arrangedhusband!Toji who utters something to Naobito before leaving the Zenin clan, "I don't ever want to see your face again, you old geezer. Don't ever come looking for me or my wife, because the next time we meet, I'll kill you."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who knocks on the door of your new apartment and is relieved to see that you're just how he left you.

You gasp at his beat up stature and you sit him down to clean him up.

"They'll never bother us again." He mutters and he sees you smile a little bit.

"I'll miss the twins," you say with a little sigh. He moves his big hand to cup your face as you are trying to wipe the blood off of his, "You've taught them plenty. I'm sure they'll follow our path and make it out of the clan sooner or later."

Arrangedhusband!Toji who is thrilled when you tell him you're pregnant.

Arrangedhusband!Toji goes to extreme lengths to protect you and you have to remind him you can still accomplish things on your own.

Arrangedhusband!Toji Husband!Toji who has both your last names changed to Fushiguro to help hide his identity. You actually debated with him about this.

"Toji, you literally just chose the first name you saw on a site of Japanese last names. We need to put thought into it."

"Oh come on baby, you gotta admit Toji Fushiguro sounds better than Toji Zenin." He never fails to find a lazy way out of things.

Husband!Toji who lets a single tear fall from his eye when he sees you cradling your little boy.

"He looks just like you." You grumble playfully and his lips quirk up into a smirk, "Eh what can I say? He got the good genes."

You fight the urge to hit him with a pillow.

Husband!Toji tells the nurse the name you two agreed on for your son, "Megumi Fushiguro."

Husband!Toji who always gets scolded by you for using bad words around your son.

"Fuck!" Megumi yells when he colors outside of the line. Your head whips around so fast and Toji looks away.

"Gumi! Don't say that. That is a very bad word." You tell him. He tilts his head to the side, "Well Dad says them."

"Does he now? I'm pretty sure Dad knows he shouldn't say those words." After a minute Toji thinks he's in the clear so he turns his head back to see you glaring at him.

"I won't do it again." He hears you mumble 'liar.'

Husband!Toji who's mad that despite his looks, his son is a complete mama's boy. "Hey kid, wanna head to the park for a little 'while?"

"Can mama come?" Your husband grunts.

"Nah, it'll just be me and you. Father and son." He says with a grin hoping to bait him.

Megumi goes back to his video he's watching. With an uninterested tone he responds, "Oh, then I don't wanna go."

He rolls his eyes and walks away, "Well whatever."

Husband!Toji who decided he wants a do over, and gives you the proper wedding you deserve.

Husband!Toji who loves you and his son very much. He couldn't have asked for anything better than this. You are his blessing.

tagging @blkkizzat bc this is her man LMAO

[retrievablememories]

cherry bomb | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: “get fucked or die” becomes the motto to live by when a serial killer begins targeting virgins on your campus.

genre: smut, horror/slasher, college!au

word count: 7.1k

warnings: multiple minor character deaths, blood, gore, violence (including gun and knife use), mentions of alcohol consumption. virgin-shaming and slut-shaming, oral (fem receiving), riding, virgin!reader, first-time sex, protected sex, hair-pulling, biting, fingering, dirty talk, virgin kink/corruption kink, fuckboy JK. is JK a sub or a masochist here? answer: i don’t fucking know!

a/n: inspired by the movie cherry falls (2000). heed the warnings. remember that this is fiction, not meant to be entirely realistic, and characters' views/actions don't represent my own. if this kind of content is not up your alley just block me or make use of the wonderful filtering option in your account settings

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 2

CHERRY BOMB

don't wanna die? come out and hook up with a sexy girl or guy.

virgins get in free!

THIS FRIDAY

NOV 3, 20XX

[address here]

"very corny." you shake your head, looking at the party flyer in your hands. you'd just torn it down from the bulletin board in your dorm lobby; unauthorized advertisements aren’t allowed, and your job as RA involves these menial-ass tasks. "this is literally life or death...why are they turning it into a joke?"

"it is a joke," your friend camille says, snatching the flyer out of your hands to look it over. "think about it. 10 students get killed since we came back in august, and the semester isn't even over yet. the school administration and local police haven't done nearly enough to address it or stop any more deaths. and the common denominator is that all these people were suspected or confirmed virgins?” you haven’t seen the evidence yourself, but the daughter of one of the local policemen claimed every victim also had virgin carved into some part of their dead body. “yeah, i'd say it's a joke to pretty much everyone at this point. this is what happens when you let the students come up with a solution."

camille hands the flyer back to you, and you hold it limply. "but...it's not like you can look at someone and tell if they're a virgin. the killer must've known them all personally. it just doesn't make sense."

"some of those people had no mutual friends. nothing connecting them whatsoever. not even shared extracurriculars. it's gotta be a perverted stalker with a fetish, maybe. a scorned hacker who somehow got into their private conversations 'n' shit? or maybe he consulted the cards to know who’d fucked before and who hadn’t.”

“oh please.” you scoff. “now you’re being completely ridiculous. tarot cards aren’t gonna tell you if someone’s a virgin or not.”

“then you come up with a better explanation. either way, these folks—" camille points to the flyer "—aren't taking their chances."

"hm..." you keep staring at the flyer, looking at the shiny-red cherries, condoms, sex toys, and other sex-related objects decorating the paper. whoever designed this really wasn't playing.

"so, are you gonna go?" camille asks with a sidelong glance. "free admittance, after all."

your neck burns under the collar of your shirt. "are you?" neither of you have had sex yet, for differing reasons. camille's reason was almost complete indifference to the whole act.

she gives you a look that says i could give a shit. "...you know the answer to that one, dear. so you're not even thinking about it? as much as you have cried to me and lorelai about not being able to find a man you like enough to give it up for, our killer here probably already knows. you practically have a ‘come kill me’ bullseye on your back.”

"i don't know," you say, because you genuinely are thinking about it. “and stop trying to fucking scare me.” despite your logical brain trying to reason with you, you still feel a sense of underlying terror about being the next victim. "the virgin killer," as they'd nicknamed the freak, clearly prefers a specific type of victim, and all kills have been random and unpredictable other than that—and the fact that every victim attended your university. he also seems partial to using a knife on his victims, but even that isn’t guaranteed—3 of the 10 had been killed in ways other than stabbing. "i don’t know why you’re so nonchalant about this, though."

camille shrugs. "if he comes for me, i'll just spray him with my illegal mace and kick his nuts into his throat. then tie him up and wait for my dad to come blow his head off. there are some advantages to having a gun nut for a dad."

you chuckle at the absurdity of it. "you've got it all planned out, then."

--

FRIDAY, NOV 3

taking a rideshare to the party was a smart idea on lorelai's part, because the two little shots you took to pre-game already have you feeling woozy. or maybe it's just your nerves.

the cherry bomb is located at a mansion that isn’t really a mansion, but a large once-abandoned house one of the fraternities fixed up years ago for throwing off-campus parties.

the party is stacked wall to wall with people when you enter, though from what you can see, no one has actually started fucking yet—maybe they're saving that for the supposed orgy later in the night. you just hope you can get someone in one of the backrooms before that happens, because you're not really keen on having everyone in your class knowing what your tits look like.

you have one simple mission here tonight—lose your long-held virginity and get off the virgin killer's radar. once that's done, you'll make your exit.

"actually, i'm surprised anyone else showed up. other than you, who wants to willingly admit that they're still a virgin in college?" lorelai shudders. you roll your eyes and try not to feel offended, sucking your teeth.

"you were more than welcome to stay back at the dorm."

"no! i'm here for moral support, plus i don't want to be alone tonight. i don't care who this killer targets, it's getting too crazy out here to just be letting your guard down anymore."

well, you won't argue that.

you and lorelai dance to the song booming over the multiple speakers, scanning the room for potential hookups all the while. you become more alert when you recognize a familiar length of black hair coming through the front door, plus the tattoos and piercings to match.

you're not surprised jungkook came. he has his pick of untouched and easily corruptible virgins here, which has always been his thing; you've heard him brag about it to his seatmates more than once in your shared elective. not to mention the stories you've heard from the women who actually fucked him. as far as you could figure, it was the usual male ego posturing bullshit about being able to say he was someone’s first—and likely best. for that reason, alarm rises when he makes eye contact and starts making a beeline for where you and lorelai are.

"oh, here comes the campus bicycle," lorelai says, voice deadpan.

you continue watching him from the corner of your eye, trying to see if he's just approaching someone in your general vicinity, but no. once he shoves his way through the crowd of dancers, some unashamedly groping at his body as he does, he stops right in front of you two.

"so, are you here for the same reason i am?" he asks you, grinning like the devil himself. "or are you looking to get that sweet little cherry popped?"

the backs of your knees sweat. "um—latter, i guess." you hadn't meant to answer that honestly, but to say you are caught off-guard is understating it. you can count on one hand the number of times you and jungkook have talked to each other in class, and never about anything of this nature.

"you're not gonna ask me?" lorelai says.

jungkook gives a hearty laugh; you didn't think it was that funny. "everyone knows you're not a virgin, why waste my time?"

"wow, okay. fuck you. you're no saint yourself." she huffs.

"anyway…" jungkook returns his attention to you. "have you really never done anything before? not even sucked a dick? there's no way someone hasn't tried to hit that. not even some 'backdoor action only' like those weird religious girls?"

"is that any of your business? i didn't know we had to give a rundown of our lack of sexual experience before getting laid around here." you snap.

jungkook's eyelids lower a fraction. "i'm tryna decide how easy i should go on you, babe. i mean, if you wanna take this in one of the rooms. otherwise, i'll let someone else have a go if you're not interested."

unfortunately, you are interested, despite his overly blunt manner and objectifying language. even though you know you’ll just become another entry on his long list of flings—someone he’ll tell his boys about later—maybe the fear of death is making you impulsive.

but maybe his looks are playing a part in it, too.

he's imposing with his physique and his all-black attire, his shirt so tight that you can clearly see his pectoral muscles and his nipples, his unbuttoned leather jacket doing nothing to hide those details. you can easily imagine yourself running your hands across those pecs, squeezing them, rubbing your fingers against his nipples and making him moan underneath you, feeling and seeing his abs contract through this stupid-ass shirt that must've been painted on. this brief fantasy immediately dampens your panties.

"…i'm interested," you affirm, dragging your gaze back up to his eyes, and he smirks from knowing you were obviously checking him out.

knowing the direction this is going in, lorelai taps you on the back and whispers in your ear. “have fun but don’t do anything stupid, yeah? i’m not playing auntie to any offspring you and this dude pop out, sis. use protection.” then she makes her exit to go find herself a partner for the night.

“so, come on.” jungkook nods his head in the direction of the stairs, and you follow him through the crowd as he leads you up the winding staircase. you squeeze past two girls kissing on the staircase railing, their motions a bit unsure as if they’ve never done it before but clearly still enjoying themselves.

jungkook pushes a few doors in until he finds an empty room, and you try not to ogle at the random couples you see along the way. not even an hour in and the two shots must be wearing off, because your body is beginning to buzz with nervousness again.

jungkook closes the door behind him when you both step into the room, which is lit by one lamp on a nightstand and the open window beside the bed. he reaches for you, and you shiver when his hand grasps the side of your face, the other snaking around your waist.

“scared?” he asks, his voice low. you shake your head, and he grins. “relax.” he leans in as if to kiss you and you part your lips, but he doesn’t do that just yet. he traces your top lip and then your bottom lip with his tongue, dipping it into your mouth as he switches. the teasing nature of his actions makes your body heat up as you watch a string of saliva spread and then break between the both of you.

he presses back in for a real kiss this time, his nose bumping yours. despite all your fears about tonight, you’re able to unwind somewhat and just focus on the full sensory experience that is this kiss—the warmth of his hands and his mouth, the sappy sound your lips make when they separate and come back together, the scent of his cologne, the taste of his spearmint-flavored tongue.

you find yourselves inching toward the bed, him walking you backwards while keeping you steady. just as the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, there's the sound of a woman's bloodcurdling scream from behind you, and you nearly shove jungkook to the ground in your haste to run to the door. your fingers are scrabbling at the doorknob when you hear a burst of laughter. a guy you don't recognize crawls out from under the bed holding his phone up, displaying a youtube video of the shower scene in the movie psycho, which is where the noise is coming from.

"that was funny as fuck." the guy laughs obnoxiously loud, holding his stomach. “don’t get too carefree or you just might die, girlie.”

jungkook grabs the guy by his jacket collar like he's a kid and throws him out the door; the guy doesn't object because he knows this is preferable to getting his ass beaten by the bigger man. "fuck outta here, you jackass." jungkook snaps.

jungkook stomps over to the closet to yank it open. "any more idiots in here wanna show themselves?" he checks a couple more areas before deciding the room is clear and closing the door again, locking it for good measure.

“okay.” he sighs, stripping off his jacket and shoes. he takes your hand and pulls you toward him as he sits on the bed. “relax, baby. forget about that fucking clown. come ‘ere. why don’t you sit on my lap?”

with a heavy exhale, you try to steady your still-shaking hands as you shuck your boots off and pull your dress up slightly to comfortably sit in his lap, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist.

he squeezes your waist. “so, where were we? i don’t really remember…”

you huff out a half-amused laugh. “really? i’m pretty sure it was this…” you lean forward with your hands on his shoulders and press your lips back onto his. jungkook follows in kind, his hands running up from your thighs to your waist and back again. the rhythm of his hands is hypnotic, distracting you as you try to keep most of your focus on the kiss, and you fear you may be getting overstimulated before anything has truly began.

as you continue kissing, jungkook’s hands creep your dress further up your thighs until your panties are revealed. still feeling up your legs, his hands press further toward your inner thighs, and you gasp into the kiss when his thumb pushes against the seat of your underwear. they have been damp for a while now and you know he knows this, so you aren’t surprised when he breaks the kiss to smirk, though it makes you roll your eyes.

jungkook whispers against your lips, “let’s try something. will you sit on my face?” you stare at him without a word, not expecting this to be the first thing he proposes. at your response, or lack of, he adds, “i want to make you feel good. do you want me to taste you?” his voice is so soft, so unassuming and cloying, that it makes you feel like a lamb clutched gently in the mouth of a wolf.

your brain is already surrendering to it. “yes.”

you get another kiss and a smile. jungkook moves you out of his lap, shuffles further up the bed, and lies down so that he’s flat on his back, his head surrounded by the pillows. he gestures for you to follow.

taking your time, you slide your panties off and crawl up the bed until you’re near his face and he’s lying below you looking like he’s struck gold. he grabs your hips to bring you closer until you’re right over his mouth. you’re embarrassed to have someone looking at you from this angle for the first time, and you’re about to get too into your head about it when he french kisses your inner thigh, blanking out your mind.

the only thing you know from then on is that his mouth is burning hot. his tongue is everywhere. he licks at you delicately to test the waters, and then more firmly when your thighs tremble around his head, in an effort to elicit the same response.

the way he fits his mouth over your entire pussy and sucks it with just the right amount of pressure so that it won’t hurt makes you feel faint. the way he slides the flat of his tongue over your clit only to suck it gently at the end of the stroke makes you cry out louder than you intended. you’re glad he moved further up the bed for this, because you’re holding onto the headboard for dear life.

the only things you’re aware of are your own out-of-control moans and the wet sounds of jungkook’s mouth working you over. all of it has you so overwrought that you’re already reaching your peak, your grip on the headboard weakening.

jungkook seems to know this without you telling him anything. he pauses and looks up at you with a fucked-out smirk and a wet mouth. you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for giving you a break. “before you come, fuck my face.”

“wh-what?”

“rub that wet fucking cunt on my face.” heat flares through your body at his frank words. “grab my hair and just ride my face.” he reaches up to take your hands off the headboard and places them in his hair. “you can do it, baby. fucking use me.”

it takes you a minute to get over the fresh wave of embarrassment and find a pace that works, because the connection between your brain and body feels like it’s frying and your coordination is off. jungkook helps guide your hips, especially with how you’re trembling from pleasure and close to falling apart. soon enough, you’re letting go of yourself and moving your hips enthusiastically, if a little clumsily, and chasing your climax. you savor the feel of your clit sliding across his wet tongue and his soft hair in between your fingers, and you push his head as close as it can get.

you come while screaming, dizzyingly immersed in the pleasure. you forget that you’re holding his hair as you yank roughly on it. the only thing that matters to you is that jungkook’s mouth is still sucking your clit through the best physical sensation you’ve ever experienced.

when he finally lets go and gives you reprieve, you collapse beside him on the pillows.

“i’m sorry,” you mumble, disoriented. “about your hair, i mean?”

jungkook laughs. it’s funny how shiny-wet his face is—and that you caused it, which is kind of hard to believe in the aftermath of it. “the pain is what gets my dick hard. don’t worry.”

you chuckle breathlessly at that, and for a few seconds you both have that funny little moment to yourselves in all the ridiculousness of the overarching situation.

then jungkook’s hand is reaching for you again. “i’m not done with that pussy yet, though.” he brushes a finger over your hole, and your body twitches from the sensitivity. he slides that finger through the wetness and then uses the lubrication to push only the tip of his finger in. he dips it in and out, teasing the nerves at your entrance, until you’re shifting your hips closer to him to implore him for more. he grants your request by sliding his finger all the way inside.

having a finger inside you feels okay at first, though not as good as his actions a few seconds ago. jungkook decides to amplify your pleasure by placing his lips on your neck, leaving gentle and wet kisses behind, and you become all too aware of the feeling of your hardened nipples against the material of your dress. the pleasure begins to heighten when his finger finds a place inside of you that makes you throb, your walls clenching around him.

“ah…” you gasp and shift eagerly against his body as he keeps stimulating that spot, not thrusting his finger into you but simply stroking it across that area in a come here motion.

jungkook pulls away from your neck to smile at his handiwork. “that’s better, right?” he whispers, watching your reactions. your lips form around the word yes, though it’s difficult to try to speak, and you worry how unsteady your voice might sound. he waits until you’re clutching at his arm, leaving red lines on his skin from your fingernails, to carefully push another finger in beside the first. you try to breathe evenly, though his refusal to let up on that spot has your lungs stuttering for air all over again. his nose nudges your ear as he leans even closer and whispers, “there are so many different spots to find, so many different ways to make you come; i wanna go looking for them all.”

jungkook angles his hand so that his palm is also stimulating your clit, his fingers thrusting slowly now. you turn your head away from him as your body becomes ablaze, unsure what to do with yourself as your climax nears quickly.

“would you let me do that? learn your body like no one else has done?” he kisses the shell of your ear, and even that small action is enough to tip you closer to the edge with how your body is already so fired up. “who else could make you feel as good?”

this orgasm makes your eyes fill with involuntary tears, and little clear droplets bleed down the sides of your face and towards your ears as your body convulses. jungkook kisses the wet trails they make on your face, still fingering you steadily and forcing another urgent cry out of you. you feel untethered from yourself, like you’re not in control of your reactions, and you don’t know whether to be afraid of that or not.

jungkook pulls his fingers out when you have mostly calmed down, watching strands of your wetness drip between them before sliding them into his mouth.

after you come the second time, you begin to tire. the deeds have been done, and if you want, you can confidently go back out to the party now and say you’re no longer a virgin; you’re off the unofficial kill list and can live the rest of your days without having to look over your shoulder with every breath.

…but jungkook is hard against your hip, and in all honesty, you don’t want to leave without knowing what his dick looks and feels like.

“you tired?” he asks, and the casual air of it makes your stomach flip, for some reason. he says it as if this is something you two do all the time and he’s used to asking you this after wearing you out during a good session.

but now’s not the time to get delusional.

“no. i want more.”

jungkook smiles broadly, teasing his lip ring with his teeth. he sits up to peel that skin-tight shirt off, and you don’t bother to stop yourself from staring at all that skin in front of you. your eyes drop further down when he removes his belt and undoes his jeans, pushing his pants and underwear down enough for you to see his v-line but not taking them off. is that an invitation for you to do it? "you hold the reins here," he says, lying back on the bed again. "do whatever you want to me."

“whatever i want?” you repeat, already sitting up. he nods, hands behind his head, and you take the initiative to straddle him again, knowing you’re getting his jeans wet.

you reach for his pecs first, just like you’d imagined downstairs. the firm muscle of them is mesmerizing; but when you slowly circle your thumb against his nipple and his eyes flutter, a small and breathy moan escaping his lips, you’re sure you enjoy this much more.

you play with his nipples and even work up the boldness to purse your lips around one, sucking it softly, and every noise that arises from him makes your clit tingle.

you eventually move your hands to his abs, enjoying how they flex at your touch. you didn't think his navel would be pierced, not hearing that detail in any of the sex tales you've eavesdropped on about jungkook, and you wonder what else you might find out about him tonight.

“you should do your nipples to match.” you suggest it without much thought as you’re teasing his navel piercing, though you don’t regret saying it.

“would you be into that?” jungkook sounds like he’s actually considering it, watching you from below his lashes.

you grin. you don’t know if you’ll actually end up having sex with him again to see them, but you answer, “i’d love it…it’d be sexy on you.”

sliding your hands further down still, you come to the waistband of his underwear, which is peeking over the top of his lowered jeans. for a second the nervousness returns; jungkook notices how your hands twitch with hesitation. “it’s fine, i’m not gonna bite you…unless you ask me to, though. here.”

he slips a hand into his underwear and grips his dick, though he doesn’t take it out right away; he strokes the shaft a few times, observing your reaction with expectant and hazy eyes. the scene before you makes your mouth dry. jungkook quickens his pace, twisting his hand at the tip and using his own precum as lube, until you are overcome with the desire to see it and you pull his underwear out of the way.

his cock is thick and flushed and glossy with precum. you don’t have much to compare it to, but it’s a good size, and all the previous women have said that he clearly knows what to do with it. he releases it and it slaps against his abs, leaving a streak of precum behind. when you look at him in anticipation of what he’ll do next, he grasps it again and starts stroking himself quickly, like he’s trying to get off. the wet slap of his motions and his quiet groans make your walls clench.

“i could keep fucking myself and you could watch, since you seem to prefer it…” he murmurs.

“no, i—let’s go all the way.”

jungkook smirks and answers your decision by pulling a condom out of his jean pocket. you watch as he unwraps it and slips it down his cock. though you’re already straddling him, he grasps your wrist and encourages you to draw nearer to him. “come here, pretty thing.”

when you’re hovering directly over him, jungkook grips the base and teases his tip against your entrance. “ready?” he asks.

“yeah,” you say breathlessly.

it’s a little slow-going, but you eventually end up with him seated inside you. it’s uncomfortable to be taking something bigger than a couple fingers, but it isn’t terribly painful.

“now, try moving your hips like this…” with his hands on your hips, jungkook helps you grind against him so that your clit slides across his pubic bone with every move. the discomfort begins to ebb out of your mind after a little while of doing this, and you laugh quietly.

“i thought…i thought this doesn’t feel good for men,” you sigh, your eyes closing from the bliss of his firm abdomen stimulating your clit. “this grinding thing, you know. or so a friend told me…”

jungkook laughs too, but he doesn’t confirm it like you expect him to. his only answer is, “a sexy woman on my dick will always feel good.”

he seems to be more about showing than telling, anyway. his hands reach for your breasts, groping them over the fabric of your dress before sliding underneath for better access. sporadic moans escape you as he plays with your nipples, making your clit throb harder and sending more warmth pooling in your abdomen.

your breath wheezes out of you when jungkook starts pushing up into you, his hands still squeezing your breasts. “you’re okay, baby…” he tries a few different angles until he pulls a visceral reaction out of you, your walls fluttering around him and your body shivering intensely. “mmm, there it is.”

your motions start tapering off as jungkook continues thrusting up against that same spot that had you in tears earlier. noticing this, he slips one hand back down to your hip and encourages you to maintain your pace, keeping your clit stimulated while meeting his thrusts. “you’re doing good…” he murmurs. “go ahead, keep fucking me just like that.”

you’re glad lorelai makes you go to the campus gym with her every week, because otherwise you’d be about to collapse riding him for this long. it takes more of your strength and stamina than you’d expected. no wonder jungkook stays in the gym.

“oh, fuck…” the way all his muscles flex as he repeatedly pushes up into you makes you wetter; you no longer have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about the gushy noises your pussy is creating. your whole world has whittled down to this one room, and all you can think about is your next orgasm.

“pull my hair again,” he requests, his eyes dark and lost in lust when he looks up at you.

"jungkook..." you grip his sweaty hair in your hand and pull it to bare his throat, and he gives a desperate moan, his member jerking inside you. you've never felt so in control of a situation before in your life. it gives you a straight adrenaline-slash-dopamine rush.

his neck is just there and exposed, flushed from exertion, and his physical responses make you feel so primal, like you could do absolutely anything to him right now and he’d enjoy it. because of this, you decide to bite his neck, if only to give your mouth something to do. his dick twitches again when you do, another pretty moan leaving his mouth.

his voice is strained when he says, “bite me harder.” when you let go, your mouth travels the expanse of his neck to leave marks in a few other places, digging in harder just as he asked of you.

“fuck, y/n—” the pain of your teeth is pushing him close to the edge too soon, so he slips his other hand out from under your dress and brings it lower to circle his fingers over your clit. jungkook adding his experienced fingers to his constant stimulation of your g-spot is enough to cause your release. your body slumps onto his as you squeeze around him, your head falling into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and your eyes shutting so tightly that you see wobbling shapes in the darkness.

jungkook gives you a few more thrusts rougher than the rest, causing you to cry out. your climax and the aftershocks have your mind so dizzy that you only just realize that he’s reaching his own peak, his muscles tensing and relaxing as he fills the condom with his cum. you hear him groan next to your ear, the sound of it filthy and uninhibited.

jungkook lifts your head from his shoulder, his thumbs on your cheeks, and his lips meet yours in a final slow kiss, his teeth leaving their mark on your bottom lip as a parting reminder.

you're still trying to get your bearings and slide him out of you when jungkook suddenly says, "what is that noise?"

"huh?" you remain immobile for a moment so you can listen more clearly, and you recognize the sounds of screaming and feet pounding on the floors in a bid to run away—both upstairs and downstairs. these don't sound like the same screams of pleasure from earlier. "what the hell?"

you and jungkook scramble to collect your clothes and get dressed, thankful that neither of you stripped down completely, and he throws the used condom into a random corner of the room. you're still making last minute adjustments when jungkook stands up and unlocks the door.

"the fuck is—?" his voice cuts off as if he can't finish his thought.

"what? what is it?" you stand up to get a better view around his body in the doorway, and you scream when you see a lone blonde girl lying a few feet away from the door, slumped against the opposite wall with a slashed throat. her pink party dress bleeds red, and her face that catches the illumination of the string lights glints with tear tracks. you look away from her unseeing eyes before you can cry out again.

jungkook seems confused, peering down the other end of the hallway like there'll be someone there to explain. "it...didn't work?" he asks to no one in particular, as you have no answer. you walk farther back into the room as if putting more distance between you and the body will provide some protection. bumping against the window sill, you turn around to look out the window and see several cars peeling out of the makeshift grass parking lot, nearly running over other people or hitting other cars on the way. you release a stifled scream from behind your hands when someone is too disoriented to get out of the way of the speeding cars and is sent flying through the air before landing painfully, their body now unmoving. the offending car never stops to check on them.

the screaming downstairs worsens, countless voices rising to a fever pitch of shouting and wailing, and you imagine this must be what the pits of hell sound like. jungkook whips around to look at you. “we gotta get the fuck out of here.”

you two inch out of the room with him in the lead, peering into jarred-open doorways to see if anybody could be waiting in the shadows. there are a couple of other bodies in two other rooms, and you wonder—even with the loud music constantly reverberating through the house, did you really not hear the struggles that led to these deaths in your throes of passion? the thought unnerves you. the idea that maybe you were only saved by jungkook deciding to lock the door…

the stair railing you’d walked by an hour ago is now broken in the middle, splinters of wood lying scattered on the stairs, along with more bodies lying on the steps just as haphazardly. the scene looks like the remnants of a stampede; you hope most of these people are just unconscious and not dead.

the dancefloor is a swarm of people in various states of undress pushing and pulling each other as they rush for the exit. there’s not as many people heading for the back door, everyone attempting to squeeze through the main entrance in their unthinking panic, so jungkook grabs your arm and the two of you pick your way through the bodies to get down the stairs as best you can. when you enter the mass of people, you’re exceptionally glad for his strength because it’s easier to get through the opposing crowd.

to reach the back door, you must first get through the kitchen. beside the kitchen entrance in a dark corner, you see someone doubled over and grasping the person in front of them for stability.

you realize belatedly that they have a knife in their stomach; the other person standing over them is the virgin killer himself, calmly watching them suffer.

the killer’s face is hidden by the mask he always wears, which you are seeing for the first time now, up-close—a hairy werewolf head with lemon-yellow eyes and a candy-red tongue. it’s so unexpected that you would’ve found it comedic if not for the context.

a guy in a blue sweater grasps the killer from behind in an attempted surprise attack, causing him to jerk the knife out of the other person’s stomach. the sudden movement causes a spray of blood to come flying off the knife, and you have to hold back vomit when drops of the warm, stinking crimson hit your face. though it feels like time has slowed to a mere creep, all of this happens within seconds.

you don’t see much more before jungkook is forcing you to move again.

you, jungkook, and multiple others barrel out of the back patio door, nearly ripping the flimsy screen door off its hinges in your haste, while the classmate in the blue sweater fruitlessly struggles with the killer in the kitchen. your leg muscles flex harder when you hear the person's agonized shout and the mushy rip of flesh being torn seconds later. almost everyone else has taken the same idea to run for their lives rather than stay and try to fight or disarm the killer; the streets are dotted in every direction with students running for any possible safety, many not having arrived to the party in cars to escape in.

thankfully, jungkook is not one of them.

he grasps your wrist painfully hard in his panic and yanks you in the direction of his car, which is so pitch black that you almost didn't see it sitting in the shadows.

when you get inside, you've never been so grateful to be within the safe metal enclosure of a car in your whole life. hands shaking, jungkook jams the key into the ignition and presses the gas pedal so hard your head jerks against the headrest. however, in your temporary relief, you think of lorelai. your vision doubles as you scramble to open your phone and call her, your head spinning with a new spike of fear. it rings for a while with no answer, and you try two more times only to get the same result.

"maybe she got to safety somewhere else?” jungkook tries to reason with you, his eyes bouncing between your face and the road ahead so he doesn't hit any other cars or any random students still running across the streets. "i didn't see her anywhere in the house before we ran out."

"that just means she could be hiding somewhere in there!" you shriek, unable to control your terror at your friend possibly being trapped in the house with the killer.

"well—maybe just let her stick it out, he won't find her if she just—"

"oh god, but i called her like three fucking times; what if he heard the phone ringing? i'm gonna kill myself."

“y/n, you’re overreacting like shit, there’s no way he’d hear a phone ringing in all that noise—"

unlistening, you drop your phone and bang your fists on your head in frustration and anguish.

sighing deeply, jungkook forgoes any attempt to do a 3-point turn, which requires more coordination than he has at the moment, and drives straight up into someone's yard to make a U-turn back toward the house.

you hadn’t gotten too far from the party house, so in another minute or two and with a couple messy turns that cause the wheels to ride up onto the curb, you’re back on the street leading up to the house. before you can reach it, though, jungkook slams on the breaks, and you have to throw your hands out onto the dashboard to avoid flying into it due to not fastening your seatbelt. you’re not very successful; the move hurts your wrists, and you’re pretty sure some of your ribs just got bruised anyway.

“what the fuck?” jungkook shouts.

the virgin killer with his lycanthrope mask is standing in the middle of the street; he turns to face the car. he has a chokehold grip on a guy you recognize as a popular frat member, who is almost bare except for his blue-plaid boxers. you remember seeing the frat guy dancing with his girlfriend when you and lorelai initially entered the party; he was in the group of guys who put this whole party together as a way to “save” the campus’s virgins.

the virgin killer is holding a gun to the guy’s head, and you have no clue where he might’ve gotten it from. the guy’s demeanor is weak, and he’s barely able to stand, which is obviously from the profuse blood loss he’s suffering; the killer has carved sharp letters into his stomach to form two words—“FAIR GAME.”

“fair game?” you mumble, a sickly realization forming in your mind.

“fuck no—" jungkook is already throwing the car into reverse when you hear and see the first bullet go off, exploding the frat member’s head into an unrecognizable mess and making you scream at the top of your lungs. you hear more shots after you close your eyes and tuck your body down, along with the sounds of bullets splitting metal and hitting glass, and you think you might be actively dying—or maybe you’re already dead. even that would be preferable to experiencing this nightmare.

you can’t think as you feel the whole world spinning, your body tossed violently around. in reality, the only thing moving is jungkook’s car as he whips the vehicle around and speeds down the same street you just traveled up.

for a few long minutes, you only hear your own heartbeat, his murmured and frantic curses, and the strained breaths coming from both of you. you keep your body curled up with your knees tucked to your chest and arms over your face. the car’s engine roars as it races down the highway.

you’re afraid to open your eyes and find out, but you have to at some point. plus, the uncomfortable position is making your body hurt. carefully, you unfurl yourself and turn to look at him. “did you get hurt?”

“uhh—no? i don’t think…?” he takes one hand off the wheel to feel up his body as if he’s just realizing that might be a possibility. “but i’m wired off pure adrenaline right now, so give me a few more minutes to be sure…” he looks to you. “are you?”

“no.” your blood still runs cold at the thought of lorelai being stuck in the house or navigating the dark neighborhood streets at this time of night. maybe she doesn’t even have her phone; maybe it was lost in the commotion. the number of possible scenarios makes you ill.

there’s silence for a while; you assume he must not be hurt after all. you start seeing familiar roads that lead back to the campus, and the gears in your mind begin turning, powered by fear.

“do you think it’s safe to go back to the college?” you ask, your voice small.

after a pause jungkook asks, “why not?” though his face begins to look like he’s second-guessing things.

“the killer could go back to the campus…i don’t know. there was so much violence tonight. it’s like he really has a grudge against the students from our school or something. what if he wants more victims? the campus police are already incompetent, but with most of them off the grounds and on their way to the party house…” you don’t finish your thought. you’ll need to warn camille of the potential danger.

“right, yeah…” jungkook’s hands flex around the steering wheel a few times. “we should…probably go somewhere else, then.”

nowhere feels safe. still, you ask, “where?”

changing his route, jungkook glances over at you. “to a friend’s house.”

[godsandmonsters505]

Roll Like Thunder | Negan Smith

dbf!Negan Smith (The Walking Dead) x younger fem!reader

(AU where the apocalypse never happened)

Summary: Negan is your dad's best friend and the two of you settle some tension while on your family vacation.

Warnings (18+): age gap (reader is college age, maybe 20-ish, and Negan's age is not specified but I'm feeling early 50s), smut (fem receiving oral, unprotected p in v), possibility of getting caught, edging

Notes: this actually kinda turned out sweet in a way I think, which is surprising because that's not often an outcome when I write for Negan lmao. not proofread yet because I just wanted to get it out to you all asap, but will edit if needed when I get the chance. hope you enjoy!! (also the intro is kinda long oops)

Grabbing your glass of wine you take another much needed swig, cringing at your dad and uncle. They always find some way to turn every conversation into a political argument while the rest of your family eat their meals and exchange knowing glances

Family holidays were always like this. The one time a year when everyone was together: your parents, aunt, uncle and cousins. Only this year, there was a new addition.

Negan had grown up being a close friends with both your father and uncle and they are still best friends to this day. He recently went through a messy divorce and this is his first Christmas without his wife in a long time. Your dad never was good with showing kindness or friendship, but your uncle had convinced him it would be a good idea to invite him to his cabin for your annual Christmas getaway.

And that's how you got here.

You'd always had a little bit of a crush on Negan, for as long as you could remember. Though you never saw much of him as a kid. It wasn't until you got older - old enough to be able to drink in front of your parents - that you got to spend more time with him. Drinking was a big part of their social life, so once you could join in, you got to know him better. You got on well with your parents so you'd have barbeques with them and their friends, join in with conversations in the kitchen when they'd have people over, go out to dinner. But then you went off to college and started spending less and less time with them. So now it's Christmas time, you're happy to be able to spend time with your family. And Negan, more than you'd care to admit.

"Okay fellas," your mom chimes in. "Enough of that."

Negan makes eye contact with you from across the other side of the table and you smirk at each other. You're both all too familiar with watching this from an outside perspective.

"The food's delicious, Negan," she adds, turning to Negan, who had cooked this meal for you all. Sort of as a thank you for letting him tag along. For the first few days in the cabin he felt a little out of place, like he was intruding on your family's time together. But eventually he began to find himself settling. You were lucky to have a very fun, non-judgmental family so everyone was happy to have him there.

You nodded in agreement with your mother's statement. "I'd have more if there was any left." You motion to your empty plate.

"I'm glad it's got your approval, ladies," he grins.

The meal comes to an end and alcohol starts flowing. Your cousins are all younger than you so they head off to their bedrooms to do whatever it is kids their age do.

"I'd better get these dishes cleaned," Negan declares, standing up from his seat.

"No," you say, protesting. "You cooked. I'll clean."

"It's fine, you don't have to," he says kindly.

"I want to," you smile. "Really I'm happy to."

"We'll do them together?" He suggests, coming to a compromise and you nod in agreement.

"You raised a stubborn one," he mumbles teasingly to your dad, patting his shoulder as he walks past him.

"She gets that from me," your mom chirps as the two of you pick the plates up from the table and carry them into the kitchen.

Putting the plates on the kitchen top, you head to the fridge and look inside.

"Beer?" you ask, peeking around the door to look at Negan's response. Though you already have two cans in your hand, knowing he won't turn down the offer.

He nods. "Can't do anything without a drink in hand in this family, huh?"

You close the fridge door and pass him his beer, cracking open his own.

"You should be more than aware of that," you tease. "I've heard what you and my dad used to get up to."

"I'm sure you've not even heard the most of it," he teases back.

You laugh softly under your breath at his response.

"I'll wash, you dry?" You suggest as the sink begins to fill with soapy water.

The two of you get the dishes done relatively quickly as Negan tells you a story from his college days. You have to keep yourself composed and remember who he is. Remember that these stories he's telling of him at your age took place before you were even born. A decade before, at least. But, every so often, as you pass him the plates to dry, your fingers touch his and such a small motion has you weak. You can't look him directly in the eyes as he stands so close to you. That signature grin of his spread across his face.

The two of your finish and you take a large swig of your beer, but it's no surprise that the flush of alcohol doesn't help your body heat. You can only hope and pray that your cheeks aren't beetroot red right now.

"I'm sure you've got plenty of stories, though, right?" He asks. "Being in college and all. And with your dad's genes...God."

A playful smile spreads on your face. "Sure. I'm absolutely not telling you though. My dad would have a heart attack."

"Ahh," he smiles back. "So this whole 'good girl' thing is just an act, then?"

Holy shit. Good girl? He has no clue what he is doing to you calling you things like that.

"I can be good when it suits me." You say, almost flirtatiously, and immediately kick yourself. Why the hell would you say something like that to him?

Your off-the-cuff reply has him grinning. He swipes his tongue over his teeth as he contemplates your words and you almost drop to your knees.

"Let's go see what political debate has become the talking point now," you say, changing the topic to hide your complete embarrassment. You leave the kitchen and head to the living room, Negan following.

Somehow, in the time it took you to wash the dishes, your mom and aunt have gone through a bottle and a half of wine, and they're sat on the floor with your dad and uncle playing some sort of drinking game.

You sit down on the couch and Negan sits next to you. Why? Why could he not just sit away from you? Give you some space to compose yourself? But the action is completely innocent. There is just less than a foot between the two of you, yet it still feels like he is on top of you. Like you're breathing the same air.

"What was I just saying?" Negan says, nudging your arm with his elbow. "Alcohol."

You shake your head in playful disagreement with your relatives' actions.

"Hey, mom," you say and her head whips around, as laughter escapes her lips. "Think you've had enough for tonight?"

"Oh, you're so boring," she waves her hand at you dismissively.

The four of them continue for about half an hour as you and Negan observe and laugh. The game finally comes to an end when your aunt and uncle discreetly head off to their bedroom for a reason you don't even want to think about. Your parents follow shortly after, your dad having to carry your drunk mom up the stairs.

You come back from the kitchen where you were getting another lager for you and Negan. As you do so, you look for the TV controller and find a blanket that was lying around. You sit down again next to Negan and look down at your phone to check the time.

"God, it's not even 10 o'clock yet." You laugh.

"Amateurs," he says sarcastically.

You pass him his beer which he thanks you for, then get under you blanket.

"Want some?" You ask, holding out some excess blanket towards him.

"Sure," he accepts, getting comfortable himself.

The whole situation you're in is completely innocent, but it dawns on you that you're currently alone with Negan, tucked under the same blanket. Given that fact, you make a conscious effort not to touch him at all and try to remain composed.

"Put a movie on?" You ask him, passing the TV remote to him.

He takes it from your hand, brushing his fingertips across yours.

You watch him carefully as he selects a film to put on, making sure not to get caught admiring him. He just looks so good. The salt and pepper sprinkled throughout his hair and beard. The tattoos that cover his arms. The way his white t-shirt hugs his body just right. You're brought out of your thoughts when he speaks.

"You seen Batman Returns?" He asks, looking down at you.

"Of course," you smile. "It's a classic."

"Feel like watching it again?"

You nod. You'll watch whatever he wants. Do whatever he wants.

"Absolutely," you answer. "I didn't peg you as a Batman kind of guy, to be honest."

"Like you say, it's a classic," he says. "Plus there's always Michelle Pfeiffer."

You laugh at him. "I feel you."

You polish off another beer as you watch the film. You try your best to pay attention, to keep your eyes open, but you grow increasingly tired. It must have only been fifteen minutes into the film when you finally drift off, reality slipping away.

When you wake up again, it takes a while to fully gain consciousness, You feel something under you head, under your arm, but you don't pay much attention to it.

You feel warm. Comfortable. You don't want to wake up, you could stay here forever. The smell of men's shampoo and cologne comforts you, a soft material under the touch of your hand.

All of a sudden reality dawns on you. You realise that your head is leaning on a shoulder. That your hand is draped across a torso. You shoot up, sitting upright and see Negan smiling at you softly through slightly hooded eyes.

"Oh God," you say, feeling incredibly humiliated. "I'm sorry." But he just chuckles.

You look over to the television and see a black screen.

"Did the movie finish?" You ask groggily and he nods. Fuck. You slept for the entire duration of the film and who knows how much of that time you spent laying on Negan's shoulder.

What you're only just realising now, though, is how close you're still sat to him. How even though you're sat up, Negan's shoulder is casually draped across the back of the sofa, dangerously close to your shoulder blades.

"Why didn't you just wake me up?" You ask, feeling flushed.

"You looked peaceful." He answers, honestly. "Didn't want to disrupt you."

"I'm sorry," you apologize again. "You should've woken me up."

"I didn't mind, sweetheart." He insists. "Honestly."

The pet name drives you utterly insane. As if this whole thing wasn't already enough. Your body feels so hot. What with the blanket, his body heat, your arousal.

"I will say though, you do talk quite a bit in your sleep," he smiles coyly and dread shoots through your entire body.

"Wh-what-" you can't even get a full sentence out. "What did I-"

A flash of a dream comes back to you in that moment. Oh God. Oh God, no. You can't remember the details, but you remember the feeling. Negan on top of you. His body weight on you. The ecstasy you felt. His hands on your body. His name slipping from your lips.

You had a sex dream about Negan while you were laying on his Goddamn shoulder. You're lost for words, but Negan is enjoying watching this play out. He bites his lip, trying to suppress his smug grin as he watches you realise the possibilities of what you might have said.

His arm slowly slips off the back of the sofa and creeps around to touch you, the movement making you flinch a little. What is he doing?

He takes his other hand and places two fingers just under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The two of you make eye contact and you can't even contemplate what is happening - still a little groggy from your nap - before his lips are coming down gently on yours.

You kiss him back almost immediately. It's a surprising delicate and intimate kiss, and you daringly bring your hand up to his neck to pull him in deeper, but he pulls back.

You worry that he is having second thoughts, but the look in his eyes says the complete opposite. He just wants to get a good look at you before he tears you apart. You feel vulnerable under his hungry eyes but you love how it makes you feel.

The two of you take a moment to catch your breath before your lips join again, this time the kiss rougher. More passionate. His arms wrap around your back to pull your body snug to his and you intwine your fingers into his hair, tugging ever so slightly. His large hands snake further down and grab your hips, pulling you onto his lap. As you get comfortable you shift along his length and gasp, feeling that he is already hard.

"You were practically fucking dry humping me in your sleep," he chuckles. "You can't blame me."

"So that's why you didn't want to wake me up, then?" You're barely able to mumble, teasing him.

"Hmm, maybe." You can feel him smile into the kiss and it makes you want him more. Everything about him is so endearing. He just radiates this warmth, this aura, and it's radiating.

Even now, however, you're nervous to move things along. You know what you want but this is still so surreal, and it would be an understatement to say you feel a little intimidated in this moment. You have enough sexual experience, but this is Negan. This is different. So you're glad when he takes control and begins to lift up your top, pulling it over your head to expose your bra.

His mouth makes contact with the flesh of your chest, sucking and nipping while he reaches around to unhook your bra. He feels his cock twitch when he sees your bare breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth immediately as his warm hands roam and caress your back, travelling over your smooth skin.

As you start to subconsciously grind into his bulge, Negan continues to explore your breasts. You're looking for any kind of relief and you begin to find some as he presses up into you, but both of your pants are restricting you.

You feel yourself crumbling further and further as Negan's hands come around to aid him with his attention to your breasts, squeezing and practically groaning as he does so. The noise changes something inside you, and makes you realise that you need him stripped of his clothes right this second.

You grasp the bottom of his shirt and he briefly pulls away from you to allow you to move it, but the second you're done, his lips are back on your skin, leaving marks on your collarbone and neck. Next, you move onto the buckle of his belt but he swats your hand away.

Pulling back from the kiss, you look to him with wide eyes full of confusion. That look alone is nearly enough to cause him to fold and fuck you right then and there. But he has other plans.

"Be patient for me, honey," he says sweetly, and as badly as you want him, you trust him.

He pulls your body flush to his, so that your breasts are pressed entirely against the heat of his chest. Then he grips your lower back and stands up, holding you tightly.

"We can't do this here," he says, carrying you towards the stairs. You grind up against him playfully as he does so and he stops momentarily half way up the stairs, clearly affected by the action. In retaliation he gently swats your ass and you giggle at his response.

"Shh," he hushes, but he can't hide the grin that spreads across his face as you bury your face in his shoulder to muffle the sound.

Being as quiet as possible, he takes you into his bedroom which - awkwardly - is across the hall from your parents' room.

He puts you down on the bed, barely allowing himself to be away from you for a second, climbing on top of you hastily. He goes back to kissing you, the taste of him intoxicating. The way he kisses are gentle yet so hot and passionate at the same time, becoming increasingly sloppy as they shift from your lips to your jaw, neck, chest, abdomen, until you're a writhing mess beneath him.

Once he has kissed so far that he reaches the waist line of your trousers, he unbuttons them and pulls them all the way down. He throws them onto the floor, leaving you just in your lace black panties. He nudges your legs open and moves his kisses to your thigh. He's slowly breaking you and you're not sure how much more you can take. Painstakingly slow, he trails his tongue up your inner thigh until he reaches the edge of your panties.

Eventually he slips your panties off and you tremble as you feel the cool air of his room against your hot, aching core. He places his hands on your inner thighs to push them open further, mouth watering at the sight of you. The delicate touch of his fingers send shivers up your spine and you're in desperate need of more.

"Please, Negan," you say, barely a croak.

"Shh, let me take care of you," he soothes, his voice low and gravelly as he tries his best to stay quiet. "Wanted to taste this sweet pussy for so long."

As if to affirm his words, he lowers his head and licks a stripe straight through your folds, groaning as he feels how wet you are.

He then moves his mouth to make contact with your clit, your hips raising at the action. He starts off by sucking gently, leaving you aching for more as you reach down to grab his hair, not knowing what else to do. He chuckles as you do so and sends vibrations straight through your core. Unable to control yourself, a moan escapes you lips and he squeezes your thighs warningly, wordlessly telling you to be quiet.

He takes his time to precisely pull you apart, but then his motions begins to get harsher, faster. You feel that rising feeling in the pit of your stomach begin to spread after waiting for what feels like so long. He alternates between kissing, sucking, licking, nipping until you're desperate for more. Sensing this, he teases one finger at your entrance.

"Please," you whimper, legs trembling. He answers your pleading by pushing his single digit inside you in one long push, as deep as he can go, and keeping it there momentarily. As he continues to eat you out, he begins moving his finger, fucking you gently. When he adds a second finger you have to clasp your hand over your own mouth to stop yourself from calling out his name. Your legs wrap around his head, wanting to pull him closer to you in any way possible.

Closing your eyes, you feel that white hot feeling flooding through your veins, but right as you're about to reach your peak, he pulls his fingers out and his mouth away from you.

You let out a guttural sound, one of desperation which causes Negan to laugh under his breath.

"Negan, God, please," you whine, putting both your hands on his head and pushing him back down.

"So bossy," he mumbles with a smile on his face, but he obliges.

He doesn't use his fingers on you again, but it makes no difference. You're already pent up enough as it is that it won't take a lot to make you reach your peak. Plus, you don't doubt that Negan's skillful mouth is more than enough for you.

He circles his tongue around your clit, going back to sucking while using his free fingers to absentmindedly trace little patterns into your thighs. The only noises are your heavy pants and the wetness of his mouth against you, and it fills the otherwise deadly silent bedroom.

He's starting to become more familiar with your body and your reactions and he can tell you're getting close again. To which he stops and pulls away yet again.

"Negan," you almost cry. Tears prick in the corners of your eyes as you throb for him. "Please, I need to-"

"I got you baby," he assures you, stroking the flesh of your thighs comfortingly.

You can't bare it. You almost despise him for doing this to you, but you can't. It's all so surreal: having this man between your thighs. So often you have fantasized of it and though it's so wrong, it's now happening.

Before you can beg again, his lips make contact with you. This time he's a man on a mission. His tongue flicks against your clit as two of his fingers slip back inside you. You're so wet that it's an easy motion, but you still feel the tight, delicious stretch. He allows you to get used to it, building you up until he adds a third finger and you have to use all your power not to yell out his name. You try your hardest not to hurt Negan by squeezing your thighs too much or pulling his hair too hard, but he loves it. He loves driving you crazy, seeing you unwind for him. The noises you make. The taste of you.

Relentlessly, he penetrates you with his fingers, pushing and curling his fingers deep inside you, hitting a spot that eventually brings you your release. One last push, one last flick of his tongue and you're falling over the edge. You squeeze your eyes shut and you can't help the animalistic sound that leaves you as white flashes behind your eyelids. He continues eating you out through your orgasm and it hits you that you think you're doing something you never have before.

Once you manage to come around again, you let your legs relax and look down to Negan who looks up at you. He smiles smugly, your wetness remaining in his beard and it causes you to go weak in the knees.

"Did I just-?" Squirt, you want to say. But somehow it doesn't seem like the nicest word to describe what just happened between of the two.

He nods with a glimmer in his eyes as he makes his way up the bed, his body above yours.

"I've never-" you croak. "I've never done that before."

"You just needed a man, that's all," he gloats and you roll your eyes. "It was hot as fuck, for what it's worth."

He leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips. You can taste yourself on him.

You're still shaking a little, but you manage to pull back a little to look him in his eyes.

"Are we really doing this?" You ask, bordering on timid.

"Do you want to?" He counters.

"Yes," you say, quickly, not wanting him to think you're having doubts. Because there is absolutely no doubt in your mind that you want the man above him. Hell, you need him. But somehow you find yourself feeling a little insecure and needing reassurance. "Do you?"

"Darling," he laughs. "Not to be crude, but you just came all over my face. I want this more than you know."

You nod and smile, feeling more confident. "I'm sorry, I just-"

He interrupts your babbling with a long kiss to your lips, silencing you.

"You need to worry less," he says, bringing his hand to stroke your cheek sweetly.

"Make me." You propose flirtingly, smiling up at him.

"That I can do." His lips crash down on yours and his tongue intertwines with yours.

Reaching down to his pants you fumble with his zip, which he helps your shaky hands undo. He shifts both his pants and boxers down off his ankles, and though you can't see his length fully from this angle, you can feel its hardness press against your lower stomach and he feels big.

"You ready, baby?" He raises his brow at you as he grips his member and teases it through your folds.

"Yes, please Negan," you pant, even after having the best orgasm of your life, you still need more. "Need you inside me."

He groans as he slips inside of you and the way you practically beg for him drives him crazy.

"So fucking tight, holy shit," he mumbles into your ear, his head dropping down to bite and suck on the crook of your neck. "Oh, baby, fuck."

Hearing him say such obscene things affects you in an indescribable way. His voice has always been massively attractive to you, but now...you're done for. The deep rumble, smooth like honey, even lower in an attempt to remain quiet to your family in the surrounding bedrooms. It's like dark magic. It has you hooked. He could say the right thing to you with that voice and you'd cum right there and then.

His movements are slow, savoring the sensation of you around him. He wants to take his time with you. He never wants it to be over.

Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his back and lift your hips up wanting more from you. He maintains his pace, but does start pushing deeper inside you like you wanted.

"I've wanted you for so long," you say, not even in control of your words anymore. It's like he's fucking them right out of you. He moans into your neck at your admission and starts thrusting a little faster, as if in response to your statement.

"Do you know-" he stops speaking for a moment to breathe and compose himself, clearly enjoying this as much as you, "how often I get myself off thinking about you?" He punctuates his point with a particularly hard thrust and that - in combination with the idea of him masturbating to the thought of you - causes you to cry out. You thought he would shush you, but he seems too far gone at this point.

"A fucking pretty little thing like you," he says, his hands groping at your tits, his touch rougher than before, "it'd be hard not to."

"Oh god," you whimper. "Harder, please."

His movements get harsher gradually, following your command and getting you closer and closer every second.

He lifts his head up and the way he looks at you makes your insides collapse. To be the sole object of his attention. How he looks at you like you're all that ever mattered.

"I'm so close, Negan," you tell him.

"Taking me so fucking well, darling," he praises, reaching one hand down to lazily play with your clit. That's all it takes and he can feel it coming as you begin to squeeze around him. He takes your lips in a long, sensual kiss as you climax, trying to muffle your moans as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your hands are wrapped around his back, squeezing into his shoulders as you try your hardest to be quiet. Pure pleasure surges through your veins as he presses his entire body weight into you: suffocating in the most beautiful way possible.

Gradually, Negan's movements come to a halt and he stops moving inside you briefly, letting go of you come down from your high.

"You're gonna be the fucking death of me," he declares and before you can reply, he suddenly starts moving inside you again, faster than the last time, placing a quick peck on the tip of your nose as he does so.

He soon reaches a pace much faster than before and you're rendered speechless.

Your attention is grabbed, however, by the open and shut of a door somewhere. You gasp and your eyes widen at the sound. The possibilities of who it could be and if they'd heard you start to race through your mind but your thoughts are cut off when Negan clasps a hand firmly over your mouth to keep you quiet. He presses you further into the mattress as he fucks you even harder than before, enjoying tormenting you.

You listen closely to the footsteps. They're quite loud - that of a man - probably your dad or uncle. The pitter patter grows closer and your heard races, both from the fear of getting caught and from the sensation of Negan deep inside you. Hitting places you're sure no other man ever has or ever could. You relax a little as you hear the footsteps pass Negan's bedroom and head into the shared bathroom, the door closing afterwards.

Negan takes his hand off your mouth and you gasp for air.

"Oh my god, please don't stop," you beg as he sets a pace and sticks with it, snaking his slender fingers back down to your clit and circling it gently.

"I don't plan on," he chimes. "You're taking me so well."

You've never felt anything like this. Your entire body is numb and slick with sweat. All you can do is grab onto his hair and try your best to lift your hips to meet his thrusts.

To help you out, he grabs your body and switches positions slightly. He lifts himself up then clutches your thighs, lifting them onto his shoulders. Then his hands grip onto your hips and he has access to you in a way that allows him to go much deeper. You know you can't take much more. You're close to crying just from how much you want to scream his name.

Your eyes keep fluttering shut but you force them opening, wanting to keep them on the man doing this to you. His tousled hair, his flexed biceps, his tattooed chest.

"Harder, please," you whisper. "I'm nearly there."

Thrusting harder, he also adds his fingers back to your clit, rubbing harshly. It's almost painful on your sensitive nerves but it feels unreal and it's enough to build you up to near-ecstasy.

Your mouth hangs open but you refrain from making any noise. In one unexpected motion, he lands a slap to your clit and it sends your orgasm rushing.

"Good girl, that's it," he guides you through as your body starts to spasm.

He continually pounds into you and turns his head to the side to place soft kisses to your inner thigh, contrasting the way he now ruthlessly moves inside of you.

You contract around him as you cum and you can tell he is trying his hardest to hold on as he visibly hesitates, not knowing where to release.

"Cum inside me, Negan," you give permission. "Want it so bad."

Those words were all he needed as he spills inside you, the warm liquid filling you.

Gradually, his movements slow down as he fucks you through the both of your orgasms, fucking his cum deeper inside you, and then pulls out and collapses next to you.

You rest your head on his shoulder and to your surprise, he pulls you closer to him, placing a kiss to your forehead.

"Holy shit," you giggle, the whole situation setting in.

Negan's about to speak but his sentence stops forming when the bathroom door opens and closes again. You'd completely forgot about that.

The two of you exchange a glance as you wait for the footsteps to disappear down the hallway. Once they're gone, you relax back into his embrace.

Absentmindedly, you place your hand on Negan's warm chest, tracing the ink of his tattoos. Its surprisingly comforting having him this close, to be held by him. You're entranced by the smell of his cologne and the way his chest heaves up and down, catching his breath. He smiles as he watches you, equally as entranced by you. He can't quite believe that the daydreams he thought were exactly that - daydreams - have come to life.

"We'll have to do this again," he grins coyly, "some place where you can scream my name as loud as you need to." His hands run over your body, cupping your breasts as if to appreciate as much of you as possible.

"I'd like that," you smile back, snuggling into his arms. You know you can't stay here all night, but you'll appreciate it for as long as possible.

[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Little Touch of Heaven [2]

Pairing: physician!Yunho x herbalist!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 8.1k

Summary: Dedicating his life to his work, Yunho had never bothered to entertain the idea of settling down. Despite encountering many charming women throughout his career, none had sparked his desire for companionship. But everything shifted when he met a certain herbalist whose medicinal knowledge seemed to surpass even his own. What began as mere intrigue might have gradually developed into affection.

Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist

"Yep, you definitely have a crush on her," Jongho's voice startled the physician as he appeared soundlessly by the entrance of the House of Lotus just as Yunho finished recounting what happened to the general. His wife listened patiently beside him, her smile knowing.

"What—hey! Have you been eavesdropping this entire time? That's rude. This is a private and confidential conversation between the couple and myself," the doctor stammered, feeling embarrassed beyond belief. He couldn't believe he had been foolish enough to think this could actually stay between him and Lady Park. At this point, the whole estate was going to find out.

"You seem oddly defensive, Physician Jung. That just further proves you are flustered and that you do indeed like Miss Ryu. Besides, I don't see anything private and confidential about that story. Sounds more like your desperate attempt to save face," the assistant retorted in his usual clever tone as he entered the room, having received a nod of approval from his master.

Yunho let out a defeated sigh, realising that while he might stand a chance at winning an argument with Hongjoong, the same couldn't be said for Jongho. The assistant could be merciless and would stop at nothing to have the last word. Glaring at the younger man, he muttered, "Yes, yes. Just you wait until your turn comes. I'd like to see how cool you are when you meet the girl of your dreams."

"Don't worry, that'll never happen," Jongho answered, his tone smug.

With a shake of his head, Seonghwa straightened up, "He's right, Yunho. Even the blind can tell you have a crush. But what is it, Jongho? Did something come up?"

The assistant nodded, "Yes, Royal Secretary Choi is here with the latest reports and minutes of the past week's assemblies. He's waiting for you in the study, unless you'd like me to bring him here too."

Choking on his tea, the doctor stared up at him, bewildered, "And why the hell would you do that? It's enough that you two already know about this, now you want the royal secretary to hear about it too?"

At that, the general and his wife burst into giggles. Finally satisfied and deciding not to tease the poor guy any further, Seonghwa pushed himself off his seat, "Have a little mercy on him, gosh," he said, turning to his wife and pressing a kiss onto her head, "You ladies continue. I'll see you later, my love."

"This is how you repay me for treating your wife," Yunho grumbled.

Pausing at the entrance of the room, the general softened and turned around, "You know, it's nice to see this side of you. This Miss Ryu must be pretty amazing to make you like this, I approve of her already. Make sure you invite us to the wedding," he said before leaving with Jongho.

"W-wedding? I don't even think she likes me at all. If anything, she probably hates me after what happened," the physician sighed.

Lady Park smiled reassuringly, a hand stroking her baby bump as she spoke, "I disagree. She did agree to teach you about herbs, tried to save you from your fall, and was even kind enough to bring you a change of clothes when she could have left you be."

"So, you think she likes me back?" His eyes brightened with hope.

She considered her words carefully before responding, "Hmm, not necessarily."

His disappointment was palpable as he slumped slightly, "My lady, please don't confuse me further."

With a gentle chuckle, the mistress clarified, "What I mean is that she probably does not hate you at all. Sure, you were a little clumsy around her, but that's not nearly enough to make her hate you. There's a chance she might grow to like you back. Don't be too dejected, Yunho; there's still hope."

God, I sure hope so.

Meanwhile, your parents hadn't stopped talking about the physician since that day. Your father eagerly handed over one of his many spare outfits kept at the store for emergencies, finally putting it to good use after Yunho's fall left his clothes soaked. You recalled trying your hardest to keep a straight face as the tall man emerged in your father's hanbok, which was slightly too short for him, ending above his ankles and making him look rather ridiculous.

"Right, well, I still have much left to do today. I don't think I'll be able to finish in time if I have to teach you. Perhaps you should come back another day, Physician Jung."

That wasn't a lie.

It wasn't that you were angry with him or anything; you could tell he was remorseful with his endless apologies. You could imagine the embarrassment he was feeling, and you didn't really blame him, but you genuinely wanted to finish up with your Sophora root harvesting, which you had obviously failed to even begin thanks to him. So you would really appreciate it if he could come back some other time for his session.

"Of course, Miss Ryu. Again, I'm so sorry—"

You lifted a hand to stop him with a shake of your head, "It's fine. Now if you'll excuse me, I really have no time to talk."

It had been a few days since then.

According to your father, Yunho had left somewhat dejectedly after purchasing a good amount of those Chinese herbs you'd recommended for Lady Park. You supposed that meant they were effective, and you were just glad you had been able to help.

"Sunshine, you must have been too blunt. You'll scare him away like that, and you shouldn't because he's such a good guy. For all we know, this could be the start of something great," your mother said as she handed you a bowl of congee for breakfast.

You rolled your eyes in response, "Oh my god, mother. You've been saying that for the past few days. I heard you the first time."

Just as you were about to start eating, she smacked you on the arm, scolding, "Then why won't you reflect on yourself and change? You really want to give me high blood pressure, don't you?"

"Ow!" you rubbed your arm, pouting at her, "What do you want me to do? It's not my fault he hasn't shown up yet. Besides, if that was all it took to scare him away, then maybe he's not the one," you said before making a face when you realised what you'd just said, "More importantly, nothing is going on between us. He's only coming to learn more about herbs and improve as a medical practitioner. Seems to me like you and father are making a fuss out of nothing."

Your father sighed as he took a seat across from you, "Listen, sunshine. I can tell he likes you. It was evident in his behaviour that day. He's usually so composed, but he seemed genuinely flustered."

After hastily finishing the congee, you chuckled and set your bowl down, "Come on, father. You've only ever been in one relationship. Since when are you an expert in this department?" you teased before growing serious and wiping your mouth clean.

"And for the last time, my dearest father and mother, the two people I love most in the world, can you please respect my wishes? I won't be able to continue seeing Physician Jung if you keep making things weird like this. I've made my stance on marriage very clear. I'm not interested, and I still am not. I've finally found a friend who shares my passion for herbs, and I want to keep things that way. Please don't make me regret it."

As you spoke those honest words, a stunned silence filled the room. Your parents exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from surprise to realisation. They had always admired your patience, your selflessness, and your unwavering dedication to your family. But in their pursuit of what they thought was best for you, they had overlooked your desires and feelings.

Your father's eyes softened, and he reached out to gently squeeze your hand, "Sunshine, we never meant to make you feel uncomfortable or pressured. We only wanted what we thought was best for you, but we see now that we may have been misguided."

Your mother nodded, her voice trembling with emotion, "You've always been so selfless. We should have listened to your wishes instead of imposing our own desires onto you. We're truly sorry."

Seeing the genuine remorse in their eyes, your heart softened. While you understood their actions were driven by good intentions, they may not have realised that their approach inadvertently caused you more distress than anything. You were just relieved they were willing to listen to you and acknowledge their mistake.

"It's okay, father, mother," you said softly, giving their hands a reassuring squeeze, "I know you only want what's best for me. Let's learn from this and move forward together."

"Here goes nothing," Yunho muttered under his breath as the apothecary came into view. This would be his first appearance since the embarrassing last impression he had left, and he was determined to salvage it. Holding his breath, he stepped into the store, expecting to see Mr. Ryu alone at his counter as usual. However, he was surprised to find you dressed more formally than usual, appearing to be preparing to go somewhere.

Upon hearing his entrance, you turned to face him with a raised brow, "Oh, you're here. I'm sorry, but I won't be able to teach you today. Our foreign medicine supplier has arrived, and I have to go to the ship dock to collect our latest batch of orders."

The physician felt like he could finally breathe again, relieved by your casual reaction to his presence. Perhaps Lady Park was right; you weren't angry with him nor did you hate him. Smiling, he reassured you, "Oh, it's alright. I understand. I can come back another day. Are you going with Mr. Ryu then? Will the shop be closing?"

You shook your head, "Oh no, not at all. It's just me. My father remains here, and business will go on as usual. He's at the back of the store; he'll be here soon if you wish to speak with him."

She's going alone? To the dock?

"I... uh, I'm just wondering, is it really safe for you to go alone? Places like that are often crowded with men. And how will you manage to carry all those supplies by yourself?" he asked, his worry evident.

With a smirk, you replied, "Are you underestimating me, Physician Jung? Do you truly believe it's my first time handling this? I appreciate your concern, but I assure you, I'll manage just fine."

Right on cue, your father emerged from the back of the store, "Ah, you've come, Physician Jung! Are you here for another session with my daughter? She may have already mentioned her plans for today, but perhaps you could accompany her."

Before Yunho could respond, you firmly shook your head, "There's no need for that, father. I'm certain he's a very busy man and probably has better things to do than accompany me to the dock."

The physician quickly interjected, "No, I don't. That's why I'm here today. I don't mind going with you. It could be a valuable experience, and I might learn something from it too," he reasoned.

You sighed, not oblivious to the knowing grin your father was sending the taller man. With a roll of your eyes, you motioned for him to follow, "Suit yourself. Come along then, there's no time to waste."

As the two of you set out towards the ship dock in town, his tall frame loomed beside you, serving the fantastic purpose of shielding you from the glaring sun. Breaking the silence, you ventured, "So, I'm assuming the Codonopsis roots and Colla Corii Asini were effective in helping Lady Park feel better? Since you got more on your last visit."

He beamed, nodding in agreement, "Oh, yes! They really were. I was planning to tell you about it on my last visit, but, well, you know..." He trailed off, trying to move past the incident before continuing, "But yes, they did wonders. Her morning sickness and fatigue improved immensely soon after taking only the first batch. If we continue to administer this, she should be able to get through the first three months with ease. And I... I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you so much, Miss Ryu."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread in your heart at the knowledge that your expertise had been put to good use, that you had been of help. Moments like these made you feel as though all the hard work you had put into studying had paid off; the sense of accomplishment was truly remarkable. With a nonchalant shrug, you responded earnestly, "Just doing my job."

Becoming increasingly intrigued by the conversation about medicine, he eagerly delved further, "I've been pondering it, and I'm still astounded by your depth of knowledge, even in foreign herbs. Frankly, I believe you surpass some senior experts in the field. It may be impertinent of me to ask, but... what's your secret?"

With a soft laugh, you shook your head, "Sometimes, there are aspects that textbooks and conventional lessons fail to impart. That's why hands-on experience is crucial. There's no secret to my knowledge; I simply allow my curiosity to guide me and take the initiative to delve deeper beyond the fundamentals. You'll see firsthand in just a moment. Perhaps it's good you came."

Just when he thought his admiration for you had reached its peak, you consistently proved him wrong. Beyond your shared passion for medicinal knowledge, there was an intangible quality that distinguished you from other women he had met. You exuded confidence in yourself, not in a brash manner, nor did you conform to the typical feminine archetype attempting to win his favour. Instead, you were authentically yourself. Every action you took reflected your unique personality, which he found irresistibly appealing.

Where have you been all this while?

He couldn't fathom that you had been so close yet remained unknown to him for all these years. As a devoted patron of your father's apothecary, he had frequented the establishment without ever realising that you were nearby, just behind the store's walls. He couldn't be more grateful to fate for allowing him to finally cross paths with you.

"Woah, watch your step!" Your warning snapped him out of his thoughts as you pulled him close, narrowly avoiding a hole in the uneven road. You slapped him on the arm and said, "Please pay attention to where you're going. The roads here won't be as well-paved as the ones in the city, since we're now on the outskirts. Come on and stay close; we're almost there."

With a chuckle, he rubbed his arm and playfully saluted, "Yes, ma'am." He couldn't believe you had slapped him so casually; no one had ever done that. His heart fluttered at the interaction, realising that's what he liked so much about you. Since day one, you have been unpretentious. Around you, he felt comfortable enough to be himself again. There was no need to uphold the image of the perfect physician everyone knew him to be. He could be silly, clumsy, a mess, and you'd never make him feel bad about it.

As you arrived at the ship dock, Yunho's sense of wonder was palpable. The place bustled with activity, just as he had anticipated, mostly with men who appeared to be merchants conducting exchanges or, like yourself, collecting orders directly from suppliers. He made sure to stay close to you, feeling reassured when you took hold of his wrist to guide him through the crowd towards your destination.

"First time here?" you smirked, noting his slightly overwhelmed expression, to which he nodded hesitantly, "Y-yes."

You snickered, "Figures. Just stick with me, and you'll be fine."

He nervously bit his lip, "Yeah, I'm not going anywhere without you. Don't worry."

"See that ship right at the end?" you asked, pointing towards one of the largest vessels in the area as you both approached it. He nodded in acknowledgement.

"That's our supplier, kind of a family business," you explained, "The Guo family from China has been in this trade for years. They're known to grow their own herbs and supply them all over the region."

You smirked as the familiar face of Madam Guo came into view, "And there's the lady boss who handles customers while the boss checks the stocks. Don't worry, she's actually the owner's wife, so you won't embarrass yourself like you did before again," you teased, playfully reminding him of his previous mistake, which flustered him.

"Oh my god, it was one mistake—"

A new voice chimed in as you both reached the ship, "Ah, my dearest Miss Ryu!" The woman exclaimed with a thick Chinese accent as she stepped forward to embrace you. You chuckled, returning the hug, "It's lovely to see you again, Madam Guo."

"And who might this handsome young man be? Finally got yourself a chaperone, I see," Madam Guo asked, her playful tone evident as she wiggled her brows.

You scoffed in disbelief, "Him, a chaperone? More like the other way around. But anyway, he's a friend, or perhaps an apprentice, whichever works. He's a physician here to learn more about herbs."

Did she just call me her friend...?

"Y-yes, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Madam Guo. My name is Jung Yunho, and I'm a physician just as Miss Ryu said," he greeted, bowing respectfully, doing everything to remain composed and hide the fact that he was dying on the inside.

The middle-aged woman grinned knowingly, "Nice to meet you too, Physician Jung. But is that really all you are? What a shame, you two would make a cute couple."

While he sputtered like a fool, you snorted and gestured for her to focus, "Please, let's get down to business."

"Of course, sweetie. Follow me," she said, throwing a teasing wink at Yunho before wrapping an arm around you and leading you towards the bags of supplies lined up in front of the ship, "So, how are your parents doing, Miss Ryu?" As you engaged with the woman, the doctor couldn't shake her words from his mind. 'A cute couple' — he liked that idea more than he cared to admit. If only it could come true, he wouldn't mind being mistaken for a couple with you.

The bond between you and Yunho strengthened significantly after your eventful joint excursion to the ship dock. He proved to be quite helpful, offering to carry the supplies you had collected.

However, it was an incident during your return to the apothecary that truly changed your perception of him. As you passed by an injured man involved in a carriage accident, his demeanour shifted instantly. With remarkable professionalism, he attended to the wounded man, showcasing his expertise and skill. It was a side of him you hadn't seen before, and in that moment, you couldn't help but feel a newfound admiration for him.

For the first time, he embodied the charismatic and excellent Physician Jung who was widely praised by the townspeople. You finally understood why he had earned such acclaim for his expertise.

While you had grown confident enough to consider him a good friend, the doctor, on the other hand, was grappling with his feelings for you. After each session, he would return to the general's estate seeking advice from the mistress on the best approach to pursue you without being too forward. Despite his desire to openly court you, he wanted to ensure that your feelings were mutual before making any moves, fearing he might scare you away.

Following Lady Park's suggestion, he opted for a more gradual approach, using the opportunity to learn about herbs as a means to get to know you better, and vice versa. By taking things slowly, he hoped to foster mutual feelings between you.

As he prepared to enjoy his lunch break at his clinic, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of spending the evening with you. Tonight's session held particular significance as you would be teaching him how to harvest specific nighttime herbs for optimal quality. It promised to be a new and exciting experience, and he was just happy about the opportunity to share it with you.

"What's got you smiling like a creep?"

Just like that, the sound of an annoyingly familiar voice sliced through the doctor's pleasant mood like a knife, abruptly snapping him out of his reverie. His smile vanished as soon as he locked eyes with the dressmaker. With an exasperated sigh and a roll of his eyes, he responded, "What do you want, Kim Hongjoong?"

Yunho held his breath momentarily, his mind racing with anxious thoughts. What if Seonghwa had betrayed him and told his friend everything about Miss Ryu? What if Hongjoong was here to tease him after finding out? Oh god, his life would be over—

But to his surprise, the older man's expression was one of genuine distress as he took a seat across from the physician, "Look, ugh... I never thought I'd say this, but I need your help. Can you lend me an ear? I'm... well, I'm in a bit of a situation."

What started as a brief lunchtime conversation stretched into half a day, with the dressmaker pouring out his heart about his latest client, the enigmatic Miss Baek, whom he clearly harboured feelings for. By the end of their exchange, though a bit flustered that Hongjoong had caught wind of his recent visits to Ryu's Apothecary and your presence there, he was simply relieved to have managed to extricate himself from the conversation in time to close up shop. But one thing was certain; any fleeting relief Yunho felt at the general's discretion evaporated instantly.

Of course, Seonghwa told him everything.

Relieved to see the dressmaker finally departing from his clinic, the physician wasted no time in packing up his belongings and closing the shop. If only Hongjoong hadn't taken up so much of his time with his endless chatter, Yunho would have already been on his way to the apothecary. He cursed the talkative man for being so long-winded; he had worked hard to gain your trust, and he didn't want to jeopardise it again due to tardiness.

"Ugh, I hope that Miss Baek continues to give him a hard time. If I end up late because of him, he's going to pay," the doctor grumbled to himself as he hurried out of his clinic and towards your store. While part of him knew you wouldn't mind him being slightly late, he didn't want you to be okay with it. He wanted to be a man of his word, to be someone you could trust.

Arriving promptly, Yunho found Mr. Ryu in the midst of closing up. The elderly man's face lit up at the sight of the taller man, "Ah, Physician Jung, right on time! She's in the back, as usual, waiting for you. Now, it'll be late by the time you two finish up. I'm trusting you to escort her home after your session, is that alright?"

Yunho straightened up and bowed respectfully, "Of course, Mr. Ryu! Don't worry, I'll ensure she gets home safely."

"Very well then, I'm leaving her in your hands," the apothecary said with a teasing wink, "You've got this."

Feeling a flush of warmth in his cheeks, Yunho waved your father goodbye, understanding the elderly man's implication. It wasn't a secret that your parents wished for you to settle down, and they had made it clear on more than one occasion that the doctor had their approval. The only remaining factor was you and your feelings.

"Oh hey, there you are," you greeted warmly from your usual spot amidst the plantation, a natural smile gracing your features as you met his gaze. It was a smile that stirred something in his heart, though he kept that to himself, "Before you come over, could you please grab me a pair of harvesting scissors and the herb stripper?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a salute, already accustomed to your directives. By now, he was familiar with most of the tools on your rack. Over the past few sessions, he had made an effort to acquaint himself with the intricacies of your work, determined to be helpful even as he continued to learn. Besides, he wanted you to know that you could rely on him, and that he could shoulder some of your burdens. He wanted you to see him the way he saw you.

"Thank you," you murmured, taking the tools from him and feeling him settle beside you. Your hands immediately got to work, launching into an automatic lecture tone as your focus zeroed in on the four moon garden herbs you would be harvesting tonight: the White Coneflower, the Lavender, the Culinary Sage, and the Silver Queen.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his gaze fixed on your side profile illuminated by the moonlight and the surrounding lamps instead of the herbs. It was the first time he had seen you in this soft, dim light, and you looked truly ethereal, the atmosphere lending an intimate and romantic feel to the moment.

Oblivious to his stare, you smiled in response, "They are exquisite, aren't they? Sometimes it pains me to have to harvest them. But they serve a greater purpose than just sitting here and looking pretty."

"Well, I believe that's what adds to their beauty, wouldn't you agree? The fact that they serve a purpose beyond mere aesthetics," he remarked, subtly hinting at his admiration for your depth and substance. To him, you were more than just a pretty face, and he found that incredibly appealing.

Noticing a stray strand of hair framing your face, he instinctively reached out to tuck it behind your ear. You tensed at his touch, turning to meet his gaze, and in that moment, he realised what he had just done. Clearing his throat nervously, he stammered, "I-I was just trying to help. It looked like it was bothering you."

You nodded, trying to mask the fluttering sensation in your chest at his gesture. He was probably just being polite, you reasoned with yourself, but you couldn't deny the allure of his presence in the soft glow of the moonlight. Quickly refocusing on your task, you blinked and responded, "Oh, umm... thank you. I appreciate it."

The tension in the air was palpable as you finished the remainder of tonight's session, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words and newfound awareness. It was as if a shift had occurred, leaving you both acutely conscious of each other's presence in a way that hadn't been there before.

As you locked up the apothecary for the night, the physician turned to you with a casual invitation, "Would you like to grab something to eat before heading home?" You paused, considering the offer. Your parents were likely done with dinner by now, so joining him wouldn't be a bad idea. With a nod, you replied, "Sure, let's go."

Despite his calm demeanour, a sense of anticipation fluttered in his chest as you walked side by side, his mind buzzing with excitement, "Come on, I know a stall that sells amazing black bean noodles," he suggested, leading the way with a smile.

Moments later, you were both seated at the stall, eagerly devouring the delicious noodles. With wide eyes, you exclaimed, "Oh my gosh, you weren't lying. This really is amazing." He chuckled at your enthusiasm before reaching over to wipe a stray noodle from the corner of your lips with his thumb, "You eat like a child, you know that?" he teased gently.

Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading through you at his words. Despite your unladylike eating habits, he didn't seem to mind. At that moment, you found yourself imagining what it would be like to be with someone like him, and surprisingly, it didn't seem so bad at all. In fact, it felt quite nice to imagine being by his side — Jung Yunho.

Just when the physician felt confident about the progress between the two of you, just as he was considering broaching the topic of a potential courtship, an unexpected turn of events threw everything off course. An argument erupted during one of your recent sessions, escalating into a silent standoff that led to his prolonged absence.

It all began innocently enough, during one of your routine sessions. Feeling more at ease around you, he summoned the courage to ask, "I was wondering... do you know of any herbs that could heal or remove scars permanently?" Your response was a curious look, prompting him to elaborate, "I've been searching for solutions to fully eliminate Lady Park's scars for a while now, but to no avail. I've sought advice from others, but no one seems to have a solution. Given your extensive knowledge, I thought you might be aware of any foreign herbs that could help."

After pondering for a moment, you nodded slowly, "Actually, yes. There's a herb called the Gotu Kola. It's renowned for treating various conditions, particularly wounds and skin issues. There have been rare cases of it being used to heal scars." His hope surged until you added, "But... it's native to India and Indonesia, and there haven't been any imports of this herb so far."

"Oh... I see," he sighed dejectedly, his shoulders slumping.

Disheartened by his disappointment when he left your father's apothecary, you became determined to find a solution. After diligent inquiries among experts, you finally unearthed a crucial piece of information: the herb was indeed present in Joseon, though in limited quantities and not widely known.

"Really? The herb is here in Joseon? Where?" Yunho's spirits lifted upon hearing your update. However, all hope plummeted when you disclosed its location, "Apparently, an Indian traveller planted some on specific parts of the Naksan mountain some years ago. It thrives in the well-drained soil, moist position, and full sun exposure."

"The Naksan mountain...? Then it's practically inaccessible," he murmured, his earlier enthusiasm extinguished once more. You furrowed your brow, "What do you mean? Of course, it's possible. We could embark on a journey to find it ourselves. Where there's a will, there's a way."

He massaged his temples, "Do you have any idea how perilous trekking a mountain can be? We're not seasoned adventurers. We might not even survive the trek to the plant, let alone make it back in one piece. If it were so simple, don't you think someone would have already ventured there to harvest it and capitalise on it? There must be a reason it's not readily available here, don't you think?"

"Forget it, just... forget I asked," he implored.

But you persisted, adamant in your determination. You went out of your way to conduct thorough research, pinpoint the exact location of the herb and gather information on all the necessary essentials for the journey. Excitedly, you broached the topic once more, only to be met with a less-than-favourable response. Yunho sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, "Please, Miss Ryu, let's just drop it."

Frustrated by his reluctance, you erupted, "If you're a coward, just admit it. You sought a solution, and I've offered one. How can you give up so easily without even trying?"

"A coward...? Is fear the only thing you hear from me after everything I've said?" he retorted incredulously.

"Well, is it not?!" you challenged.

He scoffed, "Please, don't be stupid. You're not thinking clearly, and I don't see the point in arguing further. I've made my decision. We're not doing this, and that's final. It's just not feasible."

And since then, there had been no sight or sound of him. According to your father, he would drop by only for medication, never staying to see you. It had been a week since then, and if he thought his silent treatment would deter you, he was sorely mistaken. It only fueled your determination.

I'll prove you wrong, Jung Yunho.

Using the week to make all necessary preparations, you informed your parents that you would be venturing out to gather herbs. It was technically true, though you omitted certain details to avoid a lecture. You understood that they would worry, believing it to be dangerous, especially if you were going alone. However, you had always been independent, confident in your ability to handle things on your own.

You couldn't wait to see the look on the doctor's face as you presented him with the herb, the look on his face as you called him a coward, and even more so, the look on his face when he realised just how wrong he had been and how right you were.

As you began your journey, optimism fueled your steps. Everything unfolded smoothly, just as you had envisioned. With a trusty map in hand, you followed the right path, guided by determination. Kind passersby, fellow travellers or herb pickers like yourself, helped point you in the right direction when needed. All seemed well until the distant rumble of thunder and flashes of lightning pierced the air, causing your stomach to sink. But refusing to let it deter you, you pressed on toward your destination.

Goddamnit, not now please!

In your haste, you brushed against branches, tearing your hanbok fabric and leaving tiny cuts on your skin. At times like this, you couldn't help but think about the physician. Perhaps you missed having that gentle giant by your side. Pushing aside such thoughts, you focused on the task at hand. Despite the drizzle, you persevered and were determined to reach your goal.

Nearing the spot marked on the map, you muttered to yourself, "Come on, it should be around here somewhere." Scanning the surroundings for the distinct plant with fan-shaped green leaves and delicate flowers. But as the sky darkened and the rain intensified, it became increasingly difficult to see. Frustration bubbled up as you searched, muttering curses under your breath.

"Shit, shit, shit, where is it?"

In a moment of distraction, you failed to notice a sizable rock in your path, resulting in a twisted ankle and a painful fall. With a cry, you landed on the ground, scratching your palms as you shield your face. As you struggled to rise, the realisation of your predicament set in. Your ankle throbbed, swelling with each passing moment.

Oh god, how am I going to get out of here?

Desperate and defeated, you leaned against a rock, tears streaming down your face. Regret washed over you as you cursed your decision to go on this journey alone. Maybe Yunho had been right; perhaps you should have listened to him. Now, stranded and injured, you felt foolish and vulnerable. But as you looked around for something that could help you walk, a glimmer of hope emerged as you spotted a patch of what appeared to be Gotu Kola.

With trembling hands, you retrieved the rough sketch you had brought along, confirming your discovery with wide-eyed astonishment, "Oh my god, I finally found you," you whispered, a surge of determination rising within you once more.

Meanwhile, Yunho entered the apothecary with a heavy heart, closing his umbrella as he stepped into the shop to collect his usual batch of medicine for Lady Park. His concern deepened when he saw your father pacing anxiously, "Is everything alright, Mr. Ryu?" he inquired, furrowing his brows.

The elderly man looked up, relief flooding his features at the doctor's presence, "Oh, Physician Jung! Look, I'm not sure what's going on between you and my daughter, but please, you have to help find her!" he pleaded, his voice trembling with worry.

Yunho's heart squeezed uncomfortably at the urgency in the apothecary's voice, "Wh-what? What do you mean? Where did she go?" he asked, his own anxiety mounting.

Your father began to ramble, explaining that you had mentioned going out to pick herbs earlier in the day but hadn't specified a location, "She's been gone for more than half a day now, and it's raining heavily. I'm worried sick about her. What if something's happened?" he fretted.

The doctor's breath caught in his throat at the revelation. He could hazard a guess as to where you might have gone, but he needed confirmation, "I... I might have a clue where she went, but I need to check. Can I please see her work desk?" he requested urgently.

"Yes, of course. Anything to help you find her," Mr. Ryu agreed with a nod, desperation evident in his eyes.

Approaching your desk, Yunho wasted no time searching through your notes, where you meticulously recorded every discovery. His heart skipped a beat when he reached the final page, where a rough sketch of Naksan mountain with a red X marked a specific area, accompanied by the words 'Gotu Kola' scrawled above it.

Oh my god, I cannot believe this woman.

Shocked and alarmed, the physician knew he had to find you, and fast. The thought of anything happening to you filled him with dread. He couldn't bear the idea of something befalling you, especially since your actions were spurred by his own request. If only he hadn't broached the topic of finding a remedy for scars. If only he hadn't spoken to you so harshly. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was all his fault.

"I'll find her, Mr. Ryu. I promise, I'll make this right," he assured your father before setting out, clutching your notebook in his hands and carrying a bag of essentials the elderly man had helped pack. Braving the harsh wind and rain, he made his way toward you.

In the meantime, you huddled under the protective canopy of a tree, knees drawn close to your chest, feeling utterly helpless. Despite succeeding in gathering as much Gotu Kola as possible, you were still stranded atop the mountain. The rain showed no signs of relenting, and your sprained ankle made descent impossible. As you sat there, feeling the cold seep into your bones, you could only pray that someone would pass by and notice you in your predicament.

As time dragged on, your hopes of being discovered began to wane. Despite the rain lightening, the darkening evening sky brought a fresh wave of anxiety, your heart pounding in your chest. No one was going to find you now. Would you even survive the night on the mountain? You shivered uncontrollably in your wet clothes, your untreated ankle throbbing with pain, and wounds scattered across your body. It seemed unlikely you would make it.

Damn, I wish that idiot was here...

Oddly, amidst the despair, your thoughts turned to the physician. If only he were here with you, perhaps the situation wouldn't feel so distressful. With hooded eyes, you stared blankly ahead, silently wishing for him to miraculously appear before you.

You furrowed your brows as a figure approached, the sound of your name echoing through the rain-soaked air. The voice was unmistakable, and you snorted in disbelief. Could it really be Jung Yunho? But as he knelt before you, his hands gripping your shoulders, his concern felt all too real.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice urgent.

You blinked several times, reaching out tentatively to touch his cheek. To your astonishment, he was solid, undeniably present. Tears welled up in your eyes as you broke into sobs, throwing your arms around his neck and holding him close, "Oh my god, I can't believe you're actually here," you whispered through your tears, "I guess you aren't such a coward after all."

He sighed in relief, returning your embrace and stroking your head gently, "No, I am. I am a coward because I was so afraid, so scared of... of losing you," he confessed, his voice strained with emotion. As he pulled back slightly to look at you, his expression was filled with worry, "Please don't ever scare me like that again. I told you it was dangerous. Look at you," he scolded gently.

"I can't believe you ventured all this way alone. I thought you were smarter than this, but I guess even smart people can be idiots sometimes." The doctor in him immediately began assessing all of your injuries, retrieving a bandage from his bag. With careful hands, he secured your sprained ankle to support it and prevent further swelling and bruising. Once he finished, he pulled out an extra layer of cloth from the bag your father had packed and wrapped you snugly in it, ensuring you stayed warm for the time being.

You scoffed, defiance flashing in your eyes despite the fluttering of your heart at his earlier words and his caring actions, "Say what you want, but I have no regrets because I found it..." you said, holding up the bag full of the Gotu Kola herb, "The only regret I have is not knowing it would rain. Otherwise, I would have made it just fine."

He was momentarily speechless before a small laugh escaped him as he shook his head, "As much as I love how determined you are, it frustrates me sometimes."

"You do? Love how determined I am...?" you echoed shyly, feeling a blush creeping onto your cheeks, or maybe it was a fever.

He smiled warmly, gently cupping your cheek, "I do. But as much as I'd love to confess my feelings to you right now, we really need to get out of here. We'll have plenty of time to talk when we're safe. Now, come on, hop on my back." Turning around and gesturing toward his back, he offered you a way out of the predicament and perhaps, into a new beginning... with him.

Somewhere along the way, you lost consciousness on Yunho's back. Trying to maintain composure, he carefully navigated the descent from the mountain. Fortunately, upon reaching the bottom, kind townspeople offered a ride back to your home on their cart. He held you close throughout, hoping to provide warmth with his body heat, knowing the fever was taking its toll.

He found it hard to believe he had actually climbed a mountain to rescue someone. Normally, such feats were beyond his capabilities. But the mere thought of you in danger propelled him forward. If only you knew the power you had over him, driving him to extraordinary lengths.

Upon arrival, your parents swiftly attended to you, guiding the physician to your room where he diligently treated your wounds. Drifting in and out of consciousness, you found solace in the familiar surroundings of your room as your mother changed your wet clothes. Spotting Yunho beside you once more, tending to your injuries, you caught his gaze. He smiled and leaned down to kiss your forehead, whispering, "It's okay, you're safe now. Rest, sweetheart."

And you did, your heart finally at ease.

The following days passed in a blur as he visited you daily to check on your recovery. Today was no different, and upon his arrival, you recognised the familiar scent of the tonic he brought. It was the standard blend of herbs used to revitalise patients with colds. As he attempted to feed you, you protested, "I can do it myself."

Yunho clicked his tongue, moving the spoon out of your reach, "Just be good and let me take care of you," he urged gently.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you relented, allowing him to feed you. Swallowing the bitter medicine with a wince, you remarked, "You've already been taking good care of me for the past few days. Don't you have a clinic to run, Physician Jung?"

He chuckled, wiping the corner of your lips with his thumb, "Are you worried about me?"

Blushing, you looked away while he continued, "Don't worry, I have a substitute physician for whenever I'm not around. Besides, how can I focus on work there if I'm busy worrying about you?"

Turning back to him, you bit your lip nervously, "So, about that confession you were talking about..."

With a grin, the physician set down the bowl on the table beside your bed before reaching for your hand, "I've been waiting for you to ask for some time now. It's probably no surprise, but I... I have feelings for you."

As you squeezed his hand, he continued, "I'm not sure when it all started, but perhaps I might have liked you since our first meeting. Despite usually being composed, seeing you just threw me off. Truthfully, I've never given the idea of settling down a thought. All my life, I've been married to my work. Sure, I've met countless women who tried to appeal to me, but I've never been swayed."

Gently intertwining your fingers, he added, "Just when I thought I never would, you came along and changed everything. Initially, I thought it might have been your extensive medicinal knowledge that intrigued me, but now I realise it's much more than that. I've been waiting to be sure you liked me back before making my move, but then..."

Tears welled up in his eyes as he confessed, "God, you have no idea how much I regret putting you in danger. I should have spoken to you instead of avoiding you. When I found out you were gone, I felt like my life was over... I wouldn't have forgiven myself if anything were to happen to you," his voice cracked with emotion.

"I'm here now, you saved me," you reassured, gently cupping his face and turning it towards you, tears clouding your own vision.

He sighed, leaning into your touch, "You are, and I need you to know that I care deeply about you. I want to be the one to protect you, to be the one you can rely on, and to be there for you. Most of all, I want... to be loved by you. Will you let me be the one?"

"If not you, then who else?" you teased.

The atmosphere instantly lifted, and your smile illuminated his mood. "You'll be my only one, Yunho," you whispered, closing your eyes as he leaned in to capture your lips with his. Pulling back slightly, he murmured against your lips, "And you'll be mine."

Your father jumped with excitement outside your room, while your mother's joyous tears flowed as she eavesdropped. Finally, their hopes and dreams were becoming reality. They had worried you wouldn't give Yunho a chance after declaring your disinterest in marriage. They were relieved to see you letting him in. With a smack on your father's arm, your mother scolded him, "Alright, now that's settled, get back to work." Despite the playful reprimand, your father left happily, a smile adorning his face.

As weeks passed and your routine continued, with sessions held every few days, the significant change was evident – the physician was now more than just a friend. Stepping into the apothecary, he greeted, "I'm here, Mr. Ryu!" The elderly man grinned, waving back, "You might as well call me father already, Yunho-yah," he joked.

He blushed, bowing before hurrying to the back to tell you what your father had said, "Sweetheart, you won't believe what your father just said to me..." he began, trailing off as he realised you weren't there.

"Sweetheart...? Where are you—"

His words were interrupted by a mischievous "Boo!" from behind, startling him. In his surprise, he yelped and stumbled over his own feet, falling backwards. You reached out to help, but he grabbed your arm, causing both of you to tumble down together. As you landed on him, laughter erupted, reminiscent of the first time it happened.

"You cheeky thing," he murmured, leaning in for a kiss. When you pulled back sooner than expected, he let out a small whine, "Wait, what did my father say to you?"

"I'll tell you if you kiss me again, pretty please," he teased, a smirk spreading across your face, "Only because you asked so nicely," you replied with a chuckle.

Just as you leaned in to kiss him again, your father's voice interrupted from the entrance, "Hey sunshine, is the latest batch of ginseng ready yet— oh. Gosh, don't mind me, kids!"

As the elderly man hastily left, you buried your face in the doctor's chest, feeling embarrassed by the interruption. It seemed this was something you'd both have to get used to - the occasional interruption in your private moments. Yet, when you looked up and saw Yunho grinning, you realised he didn't mind. Like you, he was simply happy to be part of your little family.

You once thought it impossible to find someone like your father—someone patient enough to love you despite your unladylike habits, borderline stubborn nature, and no-nonsense attitude, someone who could accept you and all your flaws wholeheartedly—only to realise he had been here all along.

You were right, mother; he's the one.

You won't believe how many times I went over this. I'm not entirely happy with it even though I've managed to put in everything I had in mind. Maybe I'm overthinking it, but I sincerely hope this was decent!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[writemekpop]

Forgive and Forget | Lee Donghyuck (Haechan)

Summary: Haechan claims that you’ve been ignoring him – but he hasn’t been the best boyfriend either.

Genre: Established relationship AU, angst, baseballplayer!Haechan,

Word count: 1k

From the moment Haechan walked in the front door, you knew something was wrong. His footsteps were too slow, too lazy.

Haechan trudged into the living room, head hung low.

"You're home!" You shut your laptop and walked towards him.

You wrapped your arms around Haechan's firm body, but he wasn’t hugging you back. His arms hung limply by his side.

You stood up on your toes and leant towards him, but Haechan dodged your kiss, swerving his lips away at the last moment.

He pushed you off him and trudged towards the bedroom.

"What's up, baby?" You asked, following behind him. "Did you lose the game?"

Haechan scoffed. "Actually we won, not that you'd know... or care." He mumbled under his breath.

You frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Haechan's dark eyes met yours. He stared at you, as if contemplating something. Then he broke your gaze, shrugging. 

"Forget I said anything." He pulled off his top and sweatpants, and went into the en suite bathroom.

“Want me to give you a rub down?" You smirked, thinking of all the times in Haechan's career as a professional baseball player that you'd met him for a steamy post-game massage.

Placing your hands on his waist, you started to follow him into the bathroom… but the door slammed in your face. You barely had time to yank your hands away. You stood staring at the white wood, your ears still ringing from the sound.

There was a hiss of water as Haechan started the shower.

You slumped down on the bed, unable to work out why your boyfriend was in such a foul mood. It seemed like the only emotion he had left was anger.

Haechan hadn’t kissed you for weeks. At this point you were more like roommates, not girlfriend and boyfriend.

Haechan came into the bedroom. His brown torso was dripping wet, and a towel hung low on his hips. The sight of your nearly naked boyfriend sent tingles running down your entire body. But you knew better than to approach him right now.

Haechan sat on the bed beside you, still naked. He stared at the floor.

"Why do you never come to my games?"

"I do come to them," you said. "I was there just last… last…" You stopped mid-sentence.

Actually, you couldn't remember the last time you'd been to a match.

Haechan scoffed. "All the other guys' girlfriends come to every single one. Jeno's girl always brings these amazing cookies that she bakes from scratch. Why don't you ever do anything like that?"

You frowned. "I'm not your personal cheerleader, Haechan. I have a job, you know. I’m busy."

Haechan sighed. "How busy can you be? All you do is sit at home all day and write stories for kids. Anyone could do that."

Haechan’s words felt like a blow to the face.

"Would you prefer if I didn't work? Would you prefer it if I came to all your matches... like some kind of trophy girlfriend?"

The look in his eyes was enough to know that he meant ‘yes’.

You shook your head, tears pricking your eyes. "Unbelievable."

Haechan sprang off the bed. "Why do you always make our arguments about you? I'm the one who is supposed to be upset, but now you're crying." He rolled his eyes.

You swiped away the tears from your burning cheeks.

Haechan turned towards the wardrobe and put on a black T shirt and jeans. You watched him from the bed as he laced up his trainers.

"Where are you going?" you asked.

"To the after party. To hang out with people who actually care about me."

Haechan stomped into the hallway. You ran behind him.

"Wait,” you said. "Don't go."

Haechan's hand was on the front door. He paused, turning to look at you.  "Why not?"

You gripped your hair. "Because... I love you."

Haechan sighed. "I love you, too, Y/n. But that's not enough. I need a girlfriend who can spare three hours for a baseball match! You know I'd do the same for you."

"Would you?" you asked, voice quiet.

Haechan frowned. "What do you mean?"

You tugged at the hem of your shirtsleeve. You hated being this open. "When was the last time you came to one of my book signings?"

Haechan scratched his head. "I guess I've been busy..."

"Have you ever read one of my books, Haechan? They’re ten pages long."

“I’ve been… meaning to.” Haechan gulped. He let the front door go. It fell shut. He stepped towards you.

"Do you even know what my latest book is called?"

"It's called the owl and the... no wait, the little girl and the..." Haechan sank down onto the floor. "Shit."

You shrugged sadly. "Don't I deserve a cheerleader, too?"

Haechan buried his face in his hands. His shoulders were shaking. "I'm so sorry.”

You crouched down beside him and rubbed his back gently. "I'm sorry, too."

Haechan raised his head to look at you. His chocolate eyes were glassy, and the tip of his nose was red.

"I want to be there for you." He said, sniffing. "I understand if you want to break up but-"

You put your finger on his lips, shushing him.

"I don't want to break up, baby. We just need to make time for each other."

You stood up and held your hand out. Haechan took it, smiling weakly.

"What happened to us?" He asked, wrapping his hand around your waist.

You shrugged. "We're not perfect."

Haechan smiled. "I think you're perfect. I just… lost sight of that."

You bit your lip, cheeks warming. "Come here, you."

You cupped Haechan's face with your hands, stood on your tip toes and pulled his lips onto yours.

When you kissed him, it felt like you were kissing him for the first time. Every sensation was new, his touch, his lips, his body. It set you alight.

—

MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Good Girl | Bucky x Reader | Mutually Beneficial AU | Drabble

You don't listen to Sarge's instructions during a mission so he has to show you that you can be a good girl if you try.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, dom!Bucky, dirty talk, pet names & honourifics, clothing dispartiy and leather kink.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Mutually Beneficial Masterlist

Bucky dragged you to the back of the plane, sliding the panel that separated the main sitting area from a small cargo hold at the back.

Sam had shouted that the both of you should behave, there was no worry about that. You'd behave now, the fire behind Bucky's eyes told you you'd behave for a long time after this as well.

"You could have died" he hissed, hauling you up onto the large container box. Even though he was looking up at you now, you still felt small. Stupid. Tears welled in your eyes as he continued to berate you, that you were an agent first, that you were supposed to follow orders because they keep you safe.

He looked up from his tirade to see the tears begin to roll and stepped forward, back into your space.

"Babydoll?" He dropped his voice, quiet now, and wary.

"I'm so sorry" you sobbed, letting the tears over flow and pour down your face "I'm so sorry, I wanna follow orders, I wanna be good, I thought-" you hiccuped "I thought you were in danger, I couldn't-" hiccup "bare it".

Strong hands cupped your face, brushing your tears away, his hands cold from his leather gloves.

"Oh, Babydoll, that's why?"

You nodded, voice failing you. Bucky wrapped you in his arms, pulling you close and burying his own face in your leather clad chest.

"I wanna be good" you whispered "I wanted to be good. I - I love you is all and I"

He looked up, pressing his thumb to your lips, salty and red from your tears.

"I love you too, Baby, I'm sorry. You are good, you are" he ran a hand over your hair.

"Even though I didn't follow your orders?"

"Even though you didn't follow my orders. I can't blame you, I'd have done the same thing" he murmured.

"Will you tell me I'm good again? I feel...bad" you flushed, trying to hide your embarrassed face in his neck.

"Yeah? You need to feel like my good girl again?" The words went straight through you like electricity.

"Yes, yes please, Sarge" you did your best innocent eyes, blinking slowly and biting his thumb, still resting against your mouth.

"Hmmm... okay" he narrowed his eyes but the low grin he was hiding gave him away "Let's get you out of this" he plucked at the leather jacket and polyester combat trousers you were wearing, a few knife cuts against the legs from your earlier tussel.

Bucky backed across the small hold to the thin bench against the wall of the plane as you stripped, patting his knee "c'mon then, Babydoll, c'mere like my good girl, my best girl"

On wobbly legs you walked across the space, you felt dizzy, sick like you'd been poisoned by your own lust. Falling into his lap he spread your legs over his own, knees widening until your body hovered between you.

He pulled you down by your tag, holding you still while he kissed you, biting at your bottom lip and pulling away enough to look you in the eye.

"That's my Babydoll" he slid a leather clad hand across your wet folds, the cold material drawing stark attention to his tight black attire and your complete lack of clothing. The thought made you gush, fresh slick coating the leather as he pushed two fingers in "What a good girl, all wet for me."

He leaned forward making you clutch at his jacket for balance "think you could get wetter"

You moaned a response, you're sure you could, the question was more whether you'd survive it.

His fingers stilled, your hips winding in response, trying to find purchase, friction, something. Bucky chuckled darkly, biting the lobe of your ear until you cried out. His other hand shot up, covering your mouth. Without his support you dug your hands deeper into his clothes, feet barely touching the floor as your legs dangled over his thighs.

"Hush, Baby" you quietly moaned against his mouth, moving your hips again "I know what you need, my desperate girl can't wait any longer, can you" you shook your head, trying to stay quiet "and you want to be a good girl for your Sergeant, right?" You nodded "then you'll fuck yourself" you moaned again, his hand tightening over your lips "quietly! Or not at all. Can you do that?" You nodded. His hand moved away "tell me"

"I can do that, Sarge"

"Do what"

"Fuck myself, Sarge" you were so deeply ashamed of how much you needed this, but God, he was right, you were wetter, your arousal dripping on the floor.

"How?"

"On your fingers, Sarge" his deep chuckle was back.

"Good girl, yes, but I was looking for quietly"

"Yes, yes quietly, Sarge, I'll be quiet, I'll be good, Sarge, promise, so good"

He brought his legs a little closer together, your toes just touching the floor and giving you enough leverage to bounce on his hand.

"Then show me"

[sukunasweetheart]

oddly specific relationship headcanons with sukuna pt. 2

part 1 here

modern AU, fem!reader, sukuna being an ass as usual (affectionately)

sukuna is a food stealer. he'd rummage through ur home for snacks or food like some raccoon going through the trash. not necessarily bc hes hungry, sometimes it's bc he wants something to chew on, other times its bc he wants to judge your tastes and/or shame you. if ur fridge and cupboards are empty, with barely anything other than a bottle of ketchup in it, he will quite literally give you a silent stare bc hes simply speechless... he will say youre boring, then hes gna get concerned on whether ur eating well or not...

other than going through the things u have at home, he will also take large bites and mouthfuls of whatever you're holding onto outside. be it ice cream, bubble tea, a burger, corndog- he just wants a bite of whatever youre having! he'd then have the audacity to rate it, telling you "hmm, not bad" or "this shit tastes horrible". sometimes he just does it to piss u off, he's just like that.

if you tried the same against him, you'd have to either catch him off guard (nigh impossible) or just beg and plead until hes satisfied enough to share his snack as a treat. otherwise, he's holding the item above ur head and laughing at you. maybe if you pout he'll then finally bend down and give a little smooch on your lips before offering you some.

another thing he loves doing is draping himself all over you... full body weight if youre lying down, leaning against you fully if youre sitting, or resting his chin or arm over your head/shoulder if youre standing. just. using u as a support bc this man is so comfortable with using u as a resting tool HAHA and i know this man heavy as fuck bro *sobs* if u complain abt it, it only fuels him more... (me personally, i'd love if he put his whole body weight on me... pls crush me)

he likes feeling u squirm against him and yelling for help bc ur getting squished LMAO and also, most of the time you can't support his weight for long and you slowly sink down... he always enjoys watching u lose against him one way or another...

i already mentioned previously that he likes playfully smacking your ass around the house but i'll also add on that he likes to just grope and massage different parts of your body randomly when the two of you are lounging about together, not even sexually, he'll just squeeze at your flesh bc he feels like it and he likes the bouncy sensation. cue one hand groping ur ur tiddies/thighs/tummy while he idly scrolls through his phone

hes very independent when he wants to be independent. but hes also clingy as fuck when he's in the mood to be. one second he could be fine with doing his own thing, but all of a sudden he's craving your attention the next. he's content with being by himself one moment but then the itching desire to be next to you comes around and he does just that. watch out bc the second u get comfortable, he'll probably change his mind again and head back to continue whatever he was doing again

if you do the same against him, coming and going as you please, he's a lot more resistant as opposed to you... while you just let him do whatever he wants (most of the time, anyway) he will be his teasing self as always. he's in the middle of something and you wanna cuddle him all of a sudden? he expects to be rewarded afterwards (something lust related, probably). you wanna get up and leave after getting your fill of the cuddles? too bad, he's too comfortable now, youre not leaving til he's satisfied. he's just a selfish bastard, what can i say

one last thing, i think i mentioned this in some post before but anyway.. sukuna's 100% the type of mf to show a lot of his softer love while youre SLEEPING. be it forehead kisses, caressing your cheek, just admiring your facial features or thumbing your lips. maybe even leaving a little kiss on them. brushing aside any strands of hair. but he'd also pinch your nose and chuckle when you eventually open ur mouth to breathe LMFAOAOA <3 just languidly admiring ur sleeping face <3

Masterlist

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Delayed

AN: I have been wanting to write about this hair since Super, and now I finally have the motivation and time. Super Jeonghan, you will always be famous to me. The Jeonghan brainworms are very severe right now.

Synopsis: Tonight is arguably one of the important dinners in the kingdom's history. It could make or break relations with the Wen family. Your husband, however, is much more interested in dragging you to bed than building political alliances at the moment.

General tags and warnings: Yoon Jeonghan x Fem! Reader, established relationship, implied arranged marriage, hinted at former enemies to lovers, extremely vague historical AU, royalty AU and there is zero plot here.

Smut tags and warnings: dirty talk, fingering (f. receiving), Reader gets edged once, petnames, having children gets brought up once and it's mostly a joke, nipple and breast play (f. receiving), handjob (m. receiving), piv sex without a condom and creampie.

Word count: 2.5k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

“Your brother is going to lecture our ears off if we're late,” you remind Jeonghan, trying your best not to lose yourself in the way his hands drag along your sides and the way he breathes in your freshly washed hair. 

“Who cares what Joshua thinks?” he mutters dismissively into your neck, leaving goosebumps in his wake, “I'd much rather spend my evening with you instead of at that dinner filled with people I can't stand,” he finishes off, teasing the hem of your robe with his long fingers. 

“As sweet of a sentiment as that is, we have guests from the Wen family visiting. We can't just not show up,” you argue, still remaining in his arms and shuddering when his lips press against the exposed skin of your shoulder. You bite back a whimper when one of his hands continues to trail higher up your thigh, pushing the fabric of your robe out of the way as much as he can to expose as much of your skin as possible to his scorching touch. Jeonghan is arguably the smartest man you know. Hell, you'd go as far as to say he's the smartest man in the nation. You're well aware he's just trying to sway you right now but, you can't pretend he's not being very convincing right now. 

“You've got me there,” he concedes but, his hand doesn't slow in the slightest, “We'll just be a little late, that's all,” he whispers and you swear you've never heard a more tempting offer in your life. It's so much worse when he spins you around to face him. As though you weren't feeling dizzy and lightheaded enough. The lust in his eyes shines brighter than the moon outside of your bedroom window. The charcoal one of his servants applied around them amplifies his want that causes your own desire to flare up viciously. And to think, a year ago you couldn't stand this man and struggled to imagine yourself liking him in any capacity. 

How things have changed. 

“You're a terrible influence,” is all you say before pulling him by his own robe and smashing your lips together. You resist the impulse to roll your eyes when you feel him chuckle against your lips. Fortunately, his hands do a fantastic job of distracting you from his smugness. Nimble fingers untying the knot at the front of your robe with practiced ease. It doesn't quite pool around you but, it does grant your husband all the access he needs. Warm hands wasting no time in kneading and massaging as much of your tits as he's able to. Groaning into your mouth when he feels your hardened nipples underneath his palms. 

“They can't be mad at us for being late anyway,” he mumbles against your lips, “They've been harassing us for an heir for months now. We're just fulfilling our royal duties.” You laugh harder than you anticipate. Your laughter doesn't deter Jeonghan, though. His attention simply shifts to kissing along your jaw and running his hands along your body as though this is the first time he's touching you. As though he didn't have those same hands on you this morning. Out of everything you've learned about him these last few months, his seemingly bottomless lust has caught you the most by surprise. 

“You're ridiculous,” you finally manage to say once you've calmed down sufficiently, allowing your fingers to play with the ends of his hair while his mouth reacquaintes itself with your neck. “Am I wrong?” He asks brazenly, briefly shooting you a look that's equal parts exasperated and knowing before continuing with his very important task of mapping your body with as much of his lips and hands as possible.

“No, you're not,” you concede, letting him pull you towards your ridiculously ornate bed, “but, you're not doing a great job of trying to sway me into believing you suddenly care about your royal duties,” you say with a smile that hurts your face a little. “What? A man can't change his mind?” He asks with faux seriousness. 

“He can but, maybe he should change it another time. Not when we're meant to be getting dressed for a dinner that's very important for the future of our kingdom,” you muse, joining him on your silk sheets and letting him palm your thighs and litter your collarbone with messy kisses. “We'll make it,” he says with so much certainty that you really can't find it within yourself to disagree or argue with him. Especially not when his hand is making its way up your inner thigh, “We just have to be quick and efficient, that's all.” 

Jeonghan doesn't give you much time to digest his words. Dragging you into another impassioned kiss while his fingers brush your delicate folds. He swallows your quiet gasps eagerly. Devouring every sound the swipes and presses of his fingers pluck from you. “I tho–thought you said we had to hurry,” you whine when he continues to toy with you. His touches far too light and far too quick, not allowing you a second to savour them. “You're right, you're right. My apologies.” He has the nerve to chuckle into your mouth but, any snark you're about to unleash on him is forgotten instantaneously when he finally presses his fingertips to your clit with enough pressure to make your eyes flutter and your hands fist his robe. 

“Han–Hannie,” you whimper, allowing yourself to get lost in his skilled fingers and mouth. The thought of political dinners completely vanished from your mind. His mouth finds its way to your neck, kissing along your jugular before descending to your collarbone. You're certain that he could kiss every part of you over and over and over again and it would still never be enough for him. He pushes two fingers into you at the same time that he latches onto your hardened nipple. Dark eyes watching you under his lashes as his mouth draws breathy gasps of his name (well, attempts of his name) and his fingers gradually open you up for him. 

Not one to be outdone, you find enough coherence to palm him through his undergarments. Pride swelling in your chest when you feel his fingers falter and his quiet groan pressed into your skin. He's already so hard and the urge to sit on him and swallow his cock to its hilt grips you violently. So violently in fact that it doesn't take much more prompting for you to slip your hand into his undergarments and grasp him directly. Your walls squeezing around his fingers in time with the way he pulses in your hand. 

“You're going to be the death of me,” he hisses, finding his composure rather quickly (because of course he does) and curling his fingers inside you in the way he knows will make stars dance in your vision. Frankly, you wouldn't be shocked if he was a warlock because the reactions he pulls from you are not normal in the slightest. “You ah started all of th–this,” you remind him, gradually stroking him and delighting in the way his cock throbs in your palm with every movement. It's always lovely to be reminded that he's just as far gone for you as you are for him. 

Jeonghan chooses not to respond. Electing instead to increase the intensity of the way his fingers curl inside of you and covering your breasts in kisses while he shallowly thrusts into your hand. It's all messy and barely coordinated but, you find the tension in your core building. Every brush of your clit, every touch of his fingers, every kiss and lick of his mouth just pushes you closer and closer to the edge. You're sure he can feel the way your thighs quiver and the lack of focus you're able to provide to his slick cock in your hand. It's so close that you can practically taste it. 

And just like that, Jeonghan pulls his drenched fingers out of you. 

You're not sure when your eyes shut but, they fly open within an instant. Shooting your husband with a look that you're sure is equal parts betrayal and frustration. You can't help the way your hips jolt, searching for any sort of stimulation. Instinctively looking for anything to help ease the fluttering of your walls and the incessant pulse of your clit.

“Jeonghan.” 

He does at least look a little ashamed but, not enough for your liking. You can still see the amusement too clearly in his eyes. “I'm sorry, love,” he doesn't sound sorry in the slightest, “You know I can't help myself sometimes,” he says with an upturn of his lips that makes your stomach twist horribly and your ache between your thighs worsen. “Let me make it up to you,” he offers, maneuvering his way between your thighs before you can blink and recognise he's no longer in your grasp. Gods, you know his hair is going to be ruined by the time the two of you are finished but, you truly hope not. He's looked otherworldly before but, seeing him from this angle is an entirely different experience altogether. You've got to slip his servants a generous amount of gold coins in thanks. 

His kiss is gentle this time. A stark contrast to the way you can feel his tip prodding at your dripping, eager entrance. “I love you,” he sighs before pushing into you and, you really don't think that's all that fair. You really did marry a dirty trickster of a man. “Always so eager and ready for me,” he continues, his voice hoarse with desire as he finds his pace and all you can do is cling to his back for some form of grounding, “My beautiful, lovely, brilliant, erotic wife,” he grits out, one of his hands gripping your hip fiercely. 

It's hard to think of anything other than his gorgeous face twisted in the most arousing expressions you've ever seen in your life and the way his cock drags along the deepest, most intimate parts of you. You knew you were close before but, a few thrusts already have you dangerously teetering on the edge. “You're so unfair,” you gasp out while he focuses his attention on nipping at your throat while twisting and tugging at your nipples with those stupidly skilled fingers of his. 

“Unfair?” He laughs breathlessly, meeting your lidded gaze with his own, “Maybe you shouldn't have seduced me with that flimsy robe of yours,” he argues. The following snap of his hips is sharp and you can't really find it in you to respond. Grasping his own robe for purchase as the tension in your core begins to reach a fever pitch. “How was I meant to stop myself when you looked like that?” He rasps into your ear and you think it's deeply unfair how many of your weaknesses he's learned and, is using against you. He chuckles into your skin when all you're able to reply with are choked gasps and whines of his name. You can feel him smile into you when you jolt just as he presses his fingers to your swollen clit. Not giving you a chance to collect yourself before he rubs circles into you that cause your thighs to shake violently and your walls to tighten around him. 

“You wanted to cum, right?” His tone is teasing and you swear you hate him. It's difficult to speak when you can practically taste your climax with every touch of his fingers and stroke of his cock, “I want you to,” he breathes, a touch of desperation to his tone, “I want to feel it when you do. Want to feel you cum all over me, all around me,” he whispers straight into your ear and you can already feel the beginnings of electricity shooting down your spine, “I need to.” 

You're not sure what causes the cord to snap entirely. His cock? His fingers? His words? His voice? Him? You're not sure it really matters, ultimately. Your breaths turn to gasps and whimpers moans of his name while your thighs quiver around his slender hips. Every extremity tingling with the lightning you can feel coursing through you as Jeonghan continues his movements even through your mind numbing orgasm. You're too lost in a daze to make out what he's saying but, the bleary vision of him with his carefully styled hair sticking to his sweaty face and his smeared, charcoal liner make your stomach swoop all the same. 

“–beautiful you are,” are the rushed words you do manage to catch just as his grip on your hips grows harsher and his face morphs in pleasure. Jeonghan's stamina is impressive. Another aspect of him that you never quite expected. And usually, you'd be more than happy to let him continue making love to you until you both pass out but, you both have duties to attend to.

Jeonghan isn't the only one who has picked up a trick or two over the course of your marriage. 

Using what little energy you have left, you wrap your arms around him. Jeonghan lets you pull him closer to you, his breath stuttering when you intentionally clench your walls around him and drag your fingernails along the parts of scalp that aren't covered in hair clips. “Hannie,” you add an extra bit of whine in your voice, reveling in the way you feel him shudder and his cock throb inside of you, “Love you, Hannie.” He makes a noise you barely register before kissing you fiercely and holding you in place as he snaps his hips faster and faster, his blunt nails digging into your skin and your kiss being more tongue and spit than anything else. 

You're not sure what pushes him over the edge but, it's not long before he moans long and quietly into your mouth and you feel his cock shoot rope after rope of his release into you. The warmth that fills you is familiar and just so him that you can't help the soft whines that fall from your lips as you feel him ride out his climax. You can tell he's trying his best to not just collapse onto you but, the shakiness in his arms is evident and he's practically on you already. A small laugh bubbles out of you and you can't help but, smile when he shoots you a curious look.

“What?” He asks, running his thumb along the marks his nails left on your hip. 

“You can rest on me if you want to, beloved husband,” your face hurts from how much you're smiling. You must look insane, “You won't crush me.” 

Either he's just as insane as you are or he shares your bizarre sense of elation right now because he smiles right back at you before responding, “I thought we had a dinner to attend?” You decide to ignore how attractive he looks with his eyebrow raised. 

“We're already running late anyway. What's a few more minutes?” 

He really has become a terrible influence. 

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Seventeen Masterlist | Ko-Fi

[dramaticals]

you're too good for him - chapter one.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: you're theo's best friend and he's secretly pining over you... but you have a boyfriend. modern au. based on what can i do by reneé rapp.

✧ read: part two ✧

Theodore doesn't get it.

Your relationship with your boyfriend has always perplexed him. Your boyfriend was best described as moderate—moderate in humor, intelligence, and looks. You could do so much better.

Especially now, as you bite back the tears and bury your face in the crook of Theo's neck when you can't hold it back any more, he wonders why you still put up with the guy.

Theo pulls you closer, and he feels a quiet breath of relief against his neck as you sink into him.

It's becoming a regular occurrence now—not that Theo minded. He'd prefer having you to himself under better circumstances, but this seemed like the only way you two could hang out as of late. And as much pain you were in, Theo selfishly relished in these moments when you'd forget about lover boy and remember him. Remember that it used to be you and him. Even if your remembering only lasted a night.

You and Theo were an unlikely pair, shoved together by the fates—first grade school bus seating. The spot next to Theo was the only seat left on the bus, and after he reluctantly slid his backpack over to make room for you, the two of you became inseparable.

While Theo was reserved, you were the burst of energy that compelled everyone in the room. While Theo had a temper, you had the patience of a gentle stream. You balanced each other out. Maybe even made each other better. For the next thirteen years, it had only ever been you and Theo—until lover boy came along. And then Theo made himself sparse, pushing you away until you were arms length instead of right by his side because it had killed him to see you so happy with someone that wasn't him.

And it was unlike Theo to get in the way of your happiness. If you claimed you were happy with lover boy, then Theo just had to deal with it. You made that clear to Theo the first time he tried to intervene.

"Why are you acting like this?" You had asked when Theo first pointed out lover boy's flaws. By this point, the rose-coloured lenses were etched onto you like stone.

"Like what?" Theo spat. This was the first time his anger had been directed at you. You didn't let it faze you.

"Like... you're jealous, or something." You said, voice thick with animosity.

Theo's eyes darkened. He was jealous. Jealous that you refused to notice how Theo looked at you. Jealous that it took one stupid note from lover boy for you to forget all about him.

But he was also concerned. He was trying to look out for you.

"I just don't understand why you can't be happy for me." You continued, unaware of the hurt expression on Theo's face. "You're supposed to be my friend."

"I am your friend," Theo said softly.

Ever since that night, Theo sat pathetically and idly on the sidelines, watching you fall more in love with someone who didn't deserve you. Theo picked up the pieces lover boy shattered every time. Because he was your friend.

But if Theo was anything else, he was also relentless. While Theo stopped trying to tell you what to do, he didn't hide his disdain for your boyfriend. Especially on nights like these.

"You want me to hurt him? I'll gladly hurt him." Theo says, and this prompts you to shake your head. Theo asks this every time you come crawling over with tears staining your cheeks. And every time, you refuse. You know Theo well enough to know he'd do it in a heartbeat. He was just that type of friend to you.

"He's not worth it." You say, pulling back a little so you could face him. You sniffled.

Even in the dim lighting of Theo's bedroom, he can see the red in your eyes, the flush in your cheeks, and the inexplicable expression of heartbreak on your face.

God, he really wanted to hurt the guy.

"I don't know, I think I'd have fun." Theo says, his hand mindlessly rubbing against the small of your back. His lips curl into a small smile at the mere thought of his fists in lover boy's face.

After everything he'd done to you, it was only a matter of time before Theo intervened again.

"No," You say again. You give him a weak smile. "I'd rather you stay here with me."

And so that's what Theo does. He stays, pulls you into the familiar comfort of his bed, and turns on your favourite movie. Theo doesn't care for it, having been forced to watch the movie a million times before. But he makes an effort, letting out his own share of chuckles and commentary you've discussed a hundred times over.

When the credits roll, you're nuzzled against him comfortably. Your hand rests lazily against his chest as you shift closer to him. He rests his cheek against the top of your head.

"You're a really great friend, Theo." You say with a yawn. "I don't know where I'd be without you."

Friend.

His breath hitches and he curses himself for the visceral reaction. Of course that's what he was—what he'll always be to you. Why couldn't he just get it through his head?

Theo swallows hard. He's thankful the screen goes black now, shielding the grimace on his face.

"Lost, probably."

[poisonous-honey]

Hello...

Lately is a shitty time for me on miHoyo's games. I lost both my 50/50s both to Genshin impact and Honkai star rail. On Genshin, i got QiQi by pulling Xianyun and Gepard by pulling Black Swan. Now i'm broke and my moral is at its lowest.

I'd love some headcanons (or a scenario) about SAGAU(and SAHSRAU if you can) hearing the reader yell and cry of frustration about this. Like: "I'M DONE I'M SO FUCKING DONE!! CAN I JUST HAVE THE ONLY THING I'VE WANTED FOR WORKING AND WAITING THAT HARD!!?? FUCK ALL OF YOU I HATE MY LIFE!!!!"

Sorry. I just wanted to let it out...

Who’s Here: Reader/Player, Diluc, Jean, Mona, Keqing, Tighnari, Astral Express crew, and Gepard

Contains: SAGAU and SAHSR (Not Cult AU)

Note: Hey, hey! I'm sorry this happened to you. I also lost her to Qiqi and had to spend everything else I had to try again, 50/50s suck. Their banners aren’t gone yet though so I hope you end up getting both of them soon! (ノ_<。)ヾ(´ ▽ ` )

💛💛💛💛

It was an accident, it always is with them.

The six of them that are considered standard 5 stars never mean to ruin your chances. They care for you and your happiness, they also want you to continue to play their game. Even though they'd love to be the ones going on adventures with you, both to spend time with you and for their own benefit (Tighnari would love to study other nations' fauna, Diluc could gain new ideas for drinks etc.), they know forcing themselves into your party would never work. You'd just grow to hate them, which is the opposite of what they want.

They're jealous of other 5 stars. Sure they can join you technically whenever they want, unlike the others that have to deal with limited timed windows, but that also guarantees you want them. All they can do is break that or hope they're the lucky one chosen on Wanderlust Invocation. Not only do they have to share a space with each other, but they're also going against weapons, which none of them are remotely happy with.

It's when these emotions are at an all-time high, they're jealousy and longing, the stars will glow gold and tug on their heart.

Diluc is always at his desk when he accidentally takes it. Stewing over boring paperwork his mind will wander from time to time, eventually landing on thoughts of you. He'll find himself missing you and desiring your attention, not realizing you've started a wishing session until it's too late, and he hears you cursing the world. He feels incredibly guilty, and it only grows worse when the wind clatters against his windows. Tries to make it up to you with materials and mora. You’ll find your mail flooded with talent books, adventurers EXP, a ton of mora, and the sincerest apology he could write.

Jean would be trying to sleep. She doesn't have time to think about you during her job, so it’s when she’s on the brink of passing out she’ll start to think of you. The thought of travelling with you sounded like the best break she could get. Eventually she’ll fall asleep and dream about you, only to be suddenly woken up by your screaming. She panics and seeks advice from any and all of her friends on how to make it up to you. Ends up acting similar to Diluc, working herself to the bone to get you talent and weapon materials. She’ll pair them with a few dandelions before sending them to you.

Mona is thinking about food. During a time she forgets to set aside enough mora for a decent meal, she’ll find herself thinking about the delicacies you’re able to provide. Even if it involved fighting, it was a free source of marvellous food. Her mouth waters as she thinks about all the dishes you’ve made, only to be abruptly pulled from her thoughts when a star bumps into her and flies off. She sighs when she hears you start cussing up a storm. Knowing your current state, depressed and full of ire, is because of her, she’ll attempt to make it up to you in a way few others could. She manipulates the fates of the stars so you’re bound to get your next gold star early. A simple method she feels guarantees to make you happy and hopefully take the heat off of herself. It wasn’t simple she wishes you could praise her for it

Keqing would be reminiscing her interactions with you during lantern rite. Whenever she sees the traveller in the distance, but is too busy to stop and talk, that’s where her mind will wander when she finally gets a moment of rest. It’s at this moment of respite she’ll long to see you and the traveller again and when she’ll notice the sky turn gold. She feels incredibly bad when she hears you cry, but she doesn’t have much time to meaningfully apologize to you. The best she can do is write a letter to both you and the character she stole the spotlight from saying she’s sorry. She’ll definitely send you some Golden Shrimp Balls when she next has some for herself.

Tighnari, in a similar boat to Jean and Keqing, would be too preoccupied to miss you on a normal day. It’s when he’s out with his friends and slightly inebriated he mentions missing you. Alhaitham starts to mention how that’s a dangerous line of thought for him to have when Tighnari’s chest starts to glow gold. Everyone winces when you soon start shouting and Tighnari slams his face into the table. He’d end up gathering bunches of every flower in Sumeru and send them to you with a picture of him, Collei and Karkata. 

For Qiqi it's a little different. She can't remember the last time you've gone adventuring with her. Half the time she's too preoccupied to even remember she's already on your team. When a star falls and asks if she wants to go, she doesn't have time to check her notebook before she says yes, the star becoming hers and landing on your screen. 

Your rage and disappointment is always made evident fast, which always has Qiqi turning to Baizhu.

“Did I… Do something wrong?”

Baizhu sighs and kneels next to her, “You made a mistake, but it's alright. Come, why don't we look for an apology gift?”

The next day you open up the mail to see one from Qiqi. Attached to it are all the herbs she collected with Baizhu, her specialty dish No Tomorrow, and an acquaint fate.

Sorry… Qiqi doesn't remember what Qiqi did, but Qiqi knows Qiqi is sorry.

🌟🌟🌟🌟

Upon finishing the most recent event, you had teleported to the train suddenly before they noticed your presence leaving them. They couldn’t tell if you were in a menu or had left your computer entirely. After a while with nothing happening on your end everyone aboard the Astral Express quickly settled in, expecting to be here for a while longer. March was in her room organizing her photos, Dan Heng was going through the archives, and Himeko was making coffee while Stella and Welt were entertaining the guests. Gepard and Serval had come to visit the train that day. Pom Pom had wandered off earlier somewhere in the train and everything was relatively peaceful… Until they heard you start screaming.

March, Dan Heng, and Himeko all rushed into the Parlour car while the four already there were looking at each other in a bit of shock. It’s when they start making out what you’re saying and see Pom Pom rush back into the Parlour car did they realize you had started warping. A session which obviously didn’t go as planned.

They don't like hearing you angry or sad, so they try to come up with a plan, something - anything that will cheer you up without seeming too suspicious. All of them are in the middle of discussing when they also hear you mumble out a very quick and aggressive “Fuck Gepard.”

Everyone turns to him and his face goes red.

Plans are immediately put on hold as Stella whips out her baseball bat and attempts to smash his skull in. Welt tries to step in to stop her, Himeko and Dan Heng stand-off to the side (one more disappointed than the other), March cheers Stella on and Serval ignores her brother's plea for help.

They do eventually get around to cobbling up a multitude of jades for you to at least try again, but not before Stella nearly gave Gepard a concussion. He separately sends you an extremely long apology letter paired with a choice item to allow you to pick a 5 starlight cone of your choosing. Some of the others berate him for being so obvious, but he doesn't care as long as you're happy again.

[noiriarti]

The Winner Takes it All: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Enemies-to-Lovers Modern AU) | Chapter 4

NSFW! Minors DNI!!! Summary: The moment the thesis competition was announced, you knew your biggest threat. Anakin Skywalker, golden boy of the engineering department. He's the only other person smart enough to beat you, and the only other person insane enough to stay in the lab until midnight every night. He's also an asshole, but you're starting to think maybe he's not as bad as you thought he was... Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader CW: oral sex (m receiving), praise kink, maybe mild degradation. semi-public sex WC: 6.7k AN: sorry this took so long to churn out y'all! i'm currently at a crossroads where i could make this fic end at 5 chapters, or extend to 10 and really cook the plot. please let me know which you'd prefer!! i really love all the responses from every single one of you, and, if you all want to see the crazy shit (and smut) i have planned, i'd love to hear it! until then, enjoy this self-indulgent chapter. requests and asks are open, as always <3

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, [Ch. 4], Ch. 5, Ch. 6

Chapter 4: Breaking

Anakin woke up first. Because of course he did. Because of course the universe tortured him with the beauty of your sleeping face, naked in his arms. Last night was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and that counted winning Nationals and his first Lego Robotics kit. The previous night, when you lay down on his chest and said all those sweet things, no anger in you at all, he felt his stomach do a full flip, and he accepted right then that he loved you. Once he let the thought in, it was done. He loved you. And that was pure torture, because he knew he wouldn't do anything about it. The two of you were too delicate, too breakable right now.

He watched your sleeping face in the morning light the way a moth watches the moon, bright and so unattainable, with your peaceful eyes and full lips. Those same lips that sneered at him, that told him how smug and horrible he was. He really didn't know how he could be so stupid as to sleep with you. Anakin knew he was never someone who could keep his feelings and his dick separate. He knew it. But the second that you seemed interested, he offered it so freely, probably because he was already done for at that point. Last night, he wanted nothing more than to make you feel pleasure, to make you shake under him and say his name. And now, he was aware of what he had done to himself. What he had been doing to himself since freshman year.

The thought propelled him to get up, to move around. Anakin never could stay still for long. He closed your bedroom door softly, trying to avoid waking you up after he put his clothes back on, then sat on your couch to have a moment to think. A moment where he couldn't smell your shampoo or feel the skin of your stomach against him. Fuck. He leaned his elbows onto his thighs and put his head in his hands.

What was he going to do? Could he even do anything at this point? If he told you how he felt, that he wanted to be more than just someone you slept with, he genuinely didn't know what you'd say. What was the probability that you had feelings for him? Something other than just carnal, animal desire? He'd been noticing, lately, that you were less likely to snap some rude comment at him. That you were, maybe, just maybe, softening towards him. Maybe he was just deluding himself into reading into the soft touches last night, or the fact that you didn't kick him out. But maybe he wasn't. And maybe you'd be scared away by the suggestion that he had feelings for you, for any one of a million reasons. You were only six months from graduation, or some ex still had your heart, or maybe you just didn't want to be seen with him. There were infinite possibilities, and he didn't know which, if any, would happen if he told you. The uncertainty was killing him.

But the biggest thing stopping him was the competition. It made everything so hard between you, and maybe he would have said something if he didn't have to see you every day for hours until he graduated. If he could just run away if you rejected him to lick his wounds in peace. But, if you said no, he'd have to watch you ignore him, watch your perfect, deft hands build something brilliant.

He felt like an idiot. He had put himself in this position. And he couldn't really afford the time commitment of spending hours a day with a fuckbuddy/girlfriend/whatever this was right now. He hadn't fucked you without thinking about it, it was just that he was weak around you. Sure, he was horny and repressed and hadn't gotten some in a while. That's what hands were for. But, in all honesty, he hadn't been interested, really interested, in anyone since sophomore year. Then you came along, the one person he should hate, always next to him in the lab. As he got to know you better, he felt that lump growing in his chest, the one that meant that he was going to be hurt, inevitably. That much love never ended well.

Oh, fuck, what have I done?

He heard hinges creak, and, for a second, he thought you were up, but it was Ahsoka, heading out for a run based on her joggers and jacket. And he was wearing last night's clothes in your living room in the early hours of the morning. Shit. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened, from the timing to his messy hair.

"Hey, Snips." His voice wasn't as confident as he hoped it would be, but Ahsoka took pity on him.

"Hey, Skyguy," she said, sitting down next to him on the couch and wrapping an arm around him. Anakin hesitated for just a moment, before leaning his head onto her shoulder. She was his second-in-command, and she knew things he didn't tell pretty much anyone else. Ahsoka was dependable, if annoying. She was who he imagined his little sister would be in some alternate universe where he had a bigger family. It irritated him to no end that she could read him like a book, especially with the look she was casting him. She knew the slump of his shoulders, the faraway look in his eyes.

"You caught feelings, didn't you?" She said into the silent room. There was a peace, a still serenity to the morning, and he found himself tired of hiding.

"That easy to tell?" He let out a little snort. Of course it was.

"Yeah." For her, at least. She'd seen him cry in pain after a competitor dislocated his shoulder, and she'd seen him go through his breakup with Padme. "Well, why don't you say something?"

"I'm scared that it wouldn't work out, that it would end badly." The confession was quiet, vulnerable. Anakin could practically hear Ahsoka rolling her eyes affectionately.

"You're already enemies. You literally hate each other. How much worse could it get?" There was a smile in her voice, but Anakin was serious.

"So much worse. You don't know--I don't think I could handle silence. Anger, hatred, that's whatever. But silence, not talking, that would kill me. When we're just casual--it's safer. Even if it fucking hurts." He'd never been a guy for casual hookups. He'd never had one before. Anytime he had sex with someone, it had to be emotional for him. Deeply.

"But you already have feelings, so you're going to get hurt if it ends, regardless of what label you put on it. Just… say something, Skyguy." Her arm wrapped around his shoulders squeezed him comfortingly. He nodded, still far away in thought. The possibilities spun around in his mind like debris in a hurricane, smacking him around like a ragdoll. Everything was chaos, and he just wanted to learn more. To know more about how you felt.

"I think I just need more time. To figure out what this is. If there's anything I can do. And I can't let myself get distracted from work," he said. The problem was that, when he got like this, he knew you would be the only thing on his mind, night and day. The only thing that kept him from going insane would be his work, what he was building, but you would always be there when he was working. And that would throw him off his game by a country mile.

"You work too much, Skyguy." Anakin barked out a laugh, a resentful sound.

"Maybe." What was too much? He didn't know the concept.

Every second, every iota of willpower within him was dedicated to getting through college and getting a good job. To making a future. To making money. He swore to himself, when he learned what a bill was and why his mom would cry in her room when the envelopes with the red stamps came to their door, that he would never let her worry about money again. She had done enough of that for a lifetime. Whenever she got him a gift that he knew was expensive, his heart would break. After she bought him the Lego Robotics set, he said he didn't want any gifts for Christmas anymore, only his birthday. Said he didn't want to celebrate consumerism, or some bullshit like that. He used the set until it stopped working. And then he fixed it, and wore it out again. For years, he was angry about how unfair it all was, how the world could punish his mom this way, but all of it boiled off until all that was left was determination, thick like syrup. Then he started the odd jobs, fixing computers for people with small bits of equipment he borrowed from the school robotics team. He worked part-time at the dojo in exchange for lessons, and collected every scrap of prize money he could. He'd slip the twenties he got into his mom's wallet in the middle of the night, his bare feet padding on the tiles, hoping she wouldn't notice.

He only accepted Coruscant University because of the full ride they gave him. If they had offered any less, he would have had to go to Tatooine State University. And now, if he won, $10,000 was enough that he would probably have to make up some excuse for her to accept it, like a thank-you gift for being a good mom. Or maybe he'd invest it and take out small chunks once a month that he could slip into the family bank account, maybe pretend he got a new part-time job. That is, if he won. If.

Whenever he thought about not winning, about what that would mean, he felt a pit open up in his stomach, sucking him up whole. But if he won, a different pit opened up. You'd never forgive him for it. He knew you'd never be able to get over the resentment, the anger at him if he won. You held grudges longer than anyone he'd met before, and this would probably be unforgivable in your book. That was, if he even won.

"When did life get so complicated? If I win, I feel guilty because it'd ruin everything that we're doing. If I don't, I don't even know--I have to win. I can't afford not to. I--I just wanted to make robots." The feelings spilled out of him, letting some pressure off of his heart, but he could feel his eyes prickling. Anakin blinked quickly, getting rid of even the threat of tears. Ahsoka could tell, he knew, but she had the decency not to mention it. The arm around him rubbed his shoulder, saying I know. It's okay.

"It doesn't seem that complicated to me. All you can do is your best with your project, and with… other things. It'll all work out, I promise," Ahsoka said, with such authority in her voice that Anakin believed her.

"Thanks, Snips." He pried himself off of her shoulder, though it was a Herculean task, and threw her a forced smile.

"Oh, and if you tell anyone about this, I'll make you do sprints at practice," he added, and she laughed. Ahsoka pushed off the couch and grabbed her water bottle, then was at the door in a moment.

"I'll see you later, and… I do mean it. Say something," she said as she opened the door and slipped out of it.

That left Anakin alone on your couch, thinking and turning the possibilities over in his mind until he lost his patience and came back into your room. You were still laying in bed, and his heart ached. Anakin came up to you and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. Something you probably wouldn't have let him get away with if you were awake, honestly. You shifted a bit

"Good morning, sleepy. Let's get to work," he said.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Anakin spent the rest of the day distressingly far from you. First, after you had breakfast together, which made his heart race in an almost embarrassing way, he had to leave immediately for a meeting at the Jinn lab. Then, he had to race to TKD practice, because he was teaching the intro, the intermediate, and the advanced group today, which was definitely evidence that God hated him. He shoved some kind of sandwich from a dining hall down his throat on the shuttle back to the engineering department, where he then sat for four hours working on replicating the results from some test Obi-Wan had run that morning. At some point, he ate two protein bars from his backpack. Anakin was so busy, he almost didn't have time to think or feel, and that soothed him the slightest bit.

Then came the thesis lab, at 10. It was packed to the brim with students. All twelve of your cohort apparently found their way out of the woodwork tonight. He checked the calendar. Seven days until fall semester submission, so that made sense. Most of them probably hadn't even started. Whatever, that just meant less real competition.

When he entered the lab, his eyes found you instantly, the way they always did. You'd saved the workbench across from you for him, a gesture which almost made Anakin pass out. He tried not to read into it as a sign of affection, he really did. He did not succeed. You gave him a little wave and a smile, asked him how his day was, and he went almost dizzy with joy.

By the time an hour passed, he realized that he had done remarkably little. He thought back to that morning, when he was sure having sex with you had been a bad idea precisely because it felt like such a good idea. Anakin decided that he was correct to feel that way, because he couldn't focus on anything right now. You bent over your lab bench to reach something in the back, and he wanted to walk over and sink his fingers into your soft cheeks. Maybe something else. When you lent over your workstation, which was across from his today, and he got a perfect look down your shirt to your perfect bra and tits, he tried to hold back the flashes of how your nipples felt under his fingers and tongue. Each stretch of your lithe neck reminded him of how desperately he wanted to suck a deep red mark right there, then watch you walk around with it.

He really was trying to resist, but he wasn't good at it. Anakin already knew he was weak when it came to you, but this was a whole new level. He was hard, in public, because of you. While he pretended to read an email sagely, a hand crept under his lab bench to palm himself, just to take the edge off. Somewhere around his hip, he remembered Obi-Wan could be watching, either now or years down the line, and his hand retreated to the desk. So much for that idea. But he could deal with a little erection, right?

Wrong. So, so wrong. Because, right in his line of sight, you were trying to unplug a stuck power supply, and you were making these sounds, these grunts and groans, that went straight to his cock. Fuck. Each sound that escaped you sounded almost like your little moans while he ate you out. He could practically still taste you, feel the nub between your legs under his tongue. When you finally got it, you let out a little celebratory yes! which was definitely something he heard last night when you were riding him. The weight of your body on him, the way your tight pussy swallowed his cock whole as he looked into your eyes, the smell of sex in the air.

The image was too much. Anakin's resolve crumbled, and his hand went down all the way until it reached his sensitive head and applied just enough pressure to satisfy the itch. Apparently, that wasn't nearly enough, because his body immediately demanded more more more, greedy and obsessed with what you were doing to him. He had never been this hungry for someone before, like you were the very air he needed to breathe. Since you arrived at the lab, it had been sheer torture. It had gotten him to the point where it might just break him not to fuck you, and soon.

Anakin took a deep, ragged breath, then turned to his project. He inspected what he had done, and he found that he had connected the wrong resistor to the top of the circuit, as well as put the input cable in the wrong place. If he had turned it on, it would short the whole thing. Probably blow out the MPU6050-6 gyroscope and accelerometer chips he had spent hours soldering on yesterday.

Okay. Enough was enough. If his horniness was getting in the way of his work, he had to go take care of it. Nothing could stop him from winning. Anakin muttered out that he was going to the bathroom and rushed off down the stairs to the basement, to one of the private bathrooms.

As soon as the lock clicked behind him, his right hand immediately locked onto his cock through his pants, stroking it as he popped the button with his left. He barely had enough willpower to take his hand off of his cock while he unzipped himself and pulled it out. He was hard, leaking, desperate. He spat in his hand, then pretended it was you stroking him. Slow, languid. Those eyes looking up at him through your lashes, telling him you how badly you wanted him. Fuck it, he thought as he sped up and twisted at the top, just like he imagined you would. He didn't have his cock in your hands or mouth last night, and he was starting to wish he had, if not for the feeling, but to have the mental image stored away. Or maybe an actual image. What if he pulled out a camera while your pussy swallowed his cock whole and wrung the life out of it as you bounced on top of him? Or maybe while you played with yourself for him, fingers shoved within you as you mewled about how badly you wanted him inside you instead?

Anakin nearly came from the image alone. He stopped, just for a second. He wanted to take care of himself quickly, but, when it came to you, he wanted to make it last. Spend time in that space where he meant so much to you. Anakin leaned his body, already sweaty with need, back on the cool metal tiles, his hand on the safety rail. He counted down from 10, just to let his breathing slow and wipe some drops from his forehead, then started fucking his fist again.

Less than five seconds in, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Motherfucker. He pulled it out, just to see, hoping it was you. It was.

Hey, you ok? You've been gone a while

You were worried about him. Fuck. Anakin sped up on his cock. What would you think if you knew he was thinking about you and jerking off? One-handed, he typed out a quick yeah, be back soon, but his phone buzzed again a second later.

If you have some kind of stomach flu and give it to me, I'll smash your bot right now

He breathed out a laugh, but it got caught in his throat as he rubbed his thumb across his frenulum. Anakin almost made a few mistakes as he was typing out his response, but managed to write back.

thanks. but i'm just taking care of something. b back soon

Less than a millisecond later, you sent him a response. How did you type so fast? How would those fast, precise fingers feel wrapped around his shaft?

Does that mean what I think it means?

He sent a quick response without thinking. No, he was not jerking off in the work bathroom because just being near you turned him on beyond belief. Nope.

get your mind out of the gutter, he sent back. But, even if you suspected what he was doing, why would you ask? Maybe you would join him, if he asked. His hand got frenzied at the thought. Twitches jolted his cock. He sent another text.

maybe

Would you want some help with that? Your text flashed up on his screen and hit him like a truck. So you were interested. Maybe you were kinkier than he thought. Maybe he should have asked you to come down here with him, whispering in your ear in the lab so you could follow him, and only him, wherever he wanted so he could fuck you until you couldn't walk.

He typed I bet you'd enjoy helping me. Being on your knees for me, but then deleted it. Scaring you off was the last thing he wanted to do now.

if u want, he sent instead.

You instantly responded. Where are you?

This was happening. It was actually happening. Anakin gripped the base of his cock violently to make sure he didn't cum while he waited. He had to be patient.

basement bathroom, down the hall from the motion capture lab, he typed.

I'll be there in 2 mins, I'll knock 4 times

Those two minutes might just have been the worst two minutes of his life. Waiting, cock in his hand, for you to get there, precum dribbled out of him like a fountain. His cock was already slick with his spit, but it had dried while he waited. Despite the fact that it had been a bit since he last touched himself, he wasn't getting any softer. It was like his body knew you were getting closer, about to touch him. Like it knew you were about to put your soft lips around him.

When the knock on the door came, he did up his pants, unlocked it, and stepped to the side. On the off chance it was someone else, randomly using this exact bathroom.

But it wasn't. It was you, your hair pulled up, away from your face, breathing just a bit heavily from the way you had obviously run down the stairs. You were excited for him, and a thrill shot through him as he realized that he knew you well enough to recognize that.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

In the lab, you had noticed Anakin was off, somehow. That morning, he was so tender to you, helping you up and getting breakfast with you. The way he made you laugh over your off-brand cereal squeezed your heart. When he left, telling you he needed to go to work, you flashed into some future where the two of you were at a run-down kitchen table in some tiny apartment you shared, spending a few precious minutes together before you had to rush off to your jobs in the city. You shook it away.

You spent most of the day working on a thermo problem set in your room, trying desperately to understand how this would ever matter to you. Sometime before lunch, Ahsoka messaged you.

Hey, I forgot my water bottle at home. Can you grab it? I'm at the athletics center xx

You rolled your eyes. Of course you'd bring it. You found it by your little kitchenette area (which was comprised of a definitely-against-the-rules hot plate and microwave), probably discarded last night when Ahsoka was studying. You grabbed it, the metal cool under your fingers, and filled it with water from the Brita in your fridge for good measure. She'd probably forget to fill it during practice if you didn't.

You decided to wear some comfortable slides for your walk to the athletics center, which was only two buildings down from your dorm. The concrete of the imposing building always felt threatening and harsh. The machines were a bit run-down inside, and it wasn't your favorite gym of all time, but they had a pool and volleyball courts, so you found yourself there sometimes for intramural sports, if one of your friends convinced you.

You scanned your ID at the front, and the student attendant gave you a look which questioned why someone wearing sweats and slides, carrying nothing but a water bottle, would show up to the gym at noon on a Sunday. Whatever, you'd be out of here soon. You bounded up the stairs to the second floor, which housed the aerobics room, where Ahsoka told you the team practiced. You saw some of the others--Cody, Vaughn, Rex--in the corner, talking to Ahsoka in their kits. You cracked open the glass door and waved her over. Her bare feet smacked on the wood flooring as she plodded toward you, a bright smile on her face. Once she met you in front of the door, she grabbed the water bottle and guzzled it down until little rivulets slipped past her lips. She was sweaty, and, even though her white and blue braids were tied back, some had fallen out and hung loose around her face.

"Hey! Thank you so much, I was literally dying," she said, winking.

"Yeah, I can see that," you said. Ahsoka let out a little laugh and told you she needed to get back to it, so you were about to turn to leave when you saw a familiar figure.

Anakin. He was in front of a crowd of students, almost all of them wearing black belts, with some smatterings of red belts, as he demonstrated some sort of combination of kicks. You didn't really know that much about taekwondo, even though your roommate was really dedicated to the team, and your whatever-Anakin-was had won about a million championships. You'd never really seen Anakin do anything, though, but you almost had to stop your jaw from physically dropping.

He moved so precisely, so agile and sleek. And then someone took out three boards, thick, wooden things, and he smashed them clean in half with one kick. Details flooded you. The way his standing foot corrected itself to support him, so well-tuned to his body. The furrow of his brow, the beads of sweat collecting on it. The taut muscles in his chest that peeked out from the slightly open vee of the kit. The way his mouth opened in a yell you could hear through the door, an angry, powerful sound that sent shivers down your soul.

You were wrong about him. He wasn't just otherworldly. He was so much more. When he moved like this, you imagined him on a battlefield, cutting through a swath of enemies with those strong limbs like they were nothing. He was ethereal, battle itself come alive, strategic and controlled and precise, but vicious.

Whatever he was showing ended, and the pupils started attempting some mimicry of it. But none of them would ever come close to him, to the way his body moved. You wanted him all to yourself, in that moment, when you realized how incredible he was. You didn't want anyone else to snatch even a fraction of him, of his brilliance. As the jealousy of some imaginary people tugged in your gut, you turned and left. You had work to do, and this was… distracting. Hard to look away from. Hard to stop thinking about. But you could manage it.

Even in the lab that day, when you'd found a bench and saved him a seat, the image of him, snapping out his hand at the wood, didn't leave you. It was like trying not to think of an object, it just kept popping up in the screech of the bandsaw, in the wood flecks that speckled the ground near the drill press. It was everywhere.

It only got worse when Anakin arrived, a few hours later, shooting you glances that made your body simmer. When he sat at his computer and typed, you wondered how you'd never seen that side of him before. How you didn't see that those hands, the ones that had been inside you just hours ago, were so strong. So dangerous. Something stirred within you. That chest that you'd run your hands over held so much power, and the thought of him using it on you, to lift you up and throw you around, made you far wetter than it should. Your clit twinged when you remembered that this very desk was the one he had lifted you up on that first night. Jump. His hands were so strong under your legs, like you weighed nothing. Not that you were tiny or delicate, he was just that strong. You looked across at the table at him. Anakin was precise in the lab, too, his hands twisting the wire in his hands under his fingers just so. Could he grab your clit like that too, and pull and twist? Watch you squirm under him?

Fuck, you had to snap out of it. You caught him looking at you, and he smiled when you made eye contact. Shit, you'd forgotten how cute that smile was when it wasn't full of contempt. It was only turning you on more.

You threw yourself into work, pulling off a horrible plug that wouldn't release no matter what you did, then typing out some words into your running lab log. When you looked up, Anakin was looking at you and breathing heavily, his face suddenly deadly serious. You suddenly felt like his next meal, and the thought made you shiver. After a few seconds, he told you he was going to the bathroom, and asked you to keep an eye on his prints.

The twelve people there had dwindled to six, counting you and Anakin, so you started to wonder if you could get away with going home early once he returned and either fucking him the second you got home, or fucking yourself silly on your vibrator when you got home.

So, when he implied in a text that he was, in fact, jerking off downstairs, you needed to find out where he was. Immediately. His strong hands wrapped around his cock would stay in your fantasies for years. And, you hadn't had him in your mouth yet. And, fuck, you wondered how he would taste, now that he had been teasing himself for so long.

The basement was quiet, empty. You didn't see anyone in the motion capture lab on your way over, so you two would probably be safe. A thrill bubbled through you--fucking in semi-public was something you'd always wanted to try, but no one you'd been with had been willing. You were sure that your panties were more than a little wet at this point, but it wasn't just that you were doing something so daring, it was the fact that you were doing it with Anakin.

The four knocks on the door came quickly, and you heard the tell-tale click of the lock. You opened the door, then found Anakin leaning up against the wall.

"Hey," he said, nonchalantly. That charm was really serving him now, distracting you from the red in his lips and the heave of his chest. You noticed anyway.

"Hey."

"So, uh. I don't have a condom or anything, so we probably shouldn't--y'know," he said, seeming a bit unsure what you wanted to do. His index finger rubbed the metal bar protruding from the wall that he was leaning on.

"Yeah. I was hoping that, um," the words fell short on your tongue. Was there a sexy way to ask this? One that would guarantee he'd say yes?

"What is it?" Anakin was suddenly curious, not ready to accept your pause, or the "I-uh" you uttered as you searched in vein for some innuendo to use.

"C'mon, tell me." His tone had more of an edge to it, one that made you blurt out what you were thinking without a question.

"I was hoping you'd fuck my throat. Hard." You looked up at him, and he was looking at you a bit like he looked at those boards at practice. Like a goal. Like something he wanted, something he'd get. Anakin stalked over to the door and clicked the lock so that no one could get in, then turned to you.

"Get on your knees for me, baby." His voice was so gruff that you did what he said immediately, and dropped onto the hard tile floor. You were on your knees, and all that mattered in that moment was him. His pleasure. "Take it out," he told you, his eyes fixed on you. Your hands came up to his thighs, shaking in anticipation, then ghosted along his hard cock in his jeans. It jumped under your fingers, eager, but you continued up and undid his button. While Anakin stared down at you, you glanced up at his furrowed brow and tightened lips before slowly, teasingly, drawing down his zipper until it showed you his boxers. You hooked a finger under the waistband and drew them down until his cock, hard and heavy, bobbed in front of your hungry mouth.

His head was dark, leaking precum. Anakin had clearly been playing with himself for a long time before this, and you could see some wetness along the shaft, probably spread across his hard cock by his hand. The veins were defined, angry and desperate. One of his hands came up to your jaw, caressing it, then trailed to the back of your head to pull your mouth closer to him.

You reached up and grabbed around the middle of his shaft experimentally, just to test his reaction, and he let out a huff. The skin was so soft and silky under your fingers, and you wondered if the head would be smooth and warm in your mouth. You tested that theory immediately, taking the entire head in your my mouth in one go. You were both too impatient for teasing right now.

"Ahhffuuuck," he groaned as his other hand braces him against the wall. You hummed, but your jaw was open as wide as it could go, so it came out incoherent. Your tongue darted to his slit, lapping up his precum, which was salty and musky, like the rest of him last night. It was Anakin's smell, something masculine and sexy that made you get even wetter. Your tongue started brushing over different parts of his head, feeling the spongy head and the smooth bumps of his frenulum. He really liked it there, it seemed, based on the sharp inhale and small eye roll you saw him give.

You loved his reactions, you loved watching him lose that filter that pretended he didn't want to do horrible, rough things to you. Your head started bobbing as you worked your lips over and over across the rim of his head, letting the whole thing pop out of your lips over and over. Words would probably start pouring out him soon like last night, and the memory of him saying ride me was enough to propel your hand down to where your splayed out thighs met.

"What? Is blowing me in the bathroom turning you on?" There it was. You nodded, his cock still in your mouth. Yes, it was turning you on more than it had any right to. Knowing that someone could be right outside the door while you stuffed him deeper down was everything you wanted. You took more of him in, going as far down as you could, before he hit the back of your throat.

You gagged on him, your body begging for air, but then he used the hand that was behind your head to shove you off him. His fingers wrapped into the hair at the base of your skull and turned you up to face him. He was completely disheveled, the sweet Anakin still there, but a kind of sweet that terrified you, that would ruin you while whispering how good you were in your ear.

"Well, go on. Touch yourself while I fuck your throat, baby," he said, his voice commanding but caring, which only made you wetter. You didn't waste a second, dipping your fingers into your pussy, which was almost shamefully wet. As soon as he saw you sink down on them, he used the subtle opening of your mouth to shove his cock deep down inside your throat, then pulled back and thrust in again, harder. His cock was practically thrumming under your lips, needy and insistent.

The feeling made you speed up your fingers slamming the walls of your pussy, but it wasn't enough. Nothing other than him was ever enough. Desperate for anything to dull the need, you thrust your hips into your palm, grinding against it while your fingers were still buried inside you. The extra friction made you whine around him and squeeze your eyes shut as he worked you back and forth. Suddenly, his hand in your hair wrenched you off his cock.

"Eyes open, beautiful. Look at me," Anakin growled. You instantly opened them, staring up at him. He was wrecked for you. His open mouth huffed out hot, ragged breaths, and, under your fingers, his thighs were clenched so hard you thought they'd give out. As soon as he saw your eyes on his, he lowered you back onto his dick, this time even more frenzied when he saw the devoted look you were casting him and your cheeks hollowed out. You were doing your best to suck the life out of him, and it was working. Quiet grunts started ripping out of his chest every time your tongue passed the bottom of the head of his dick.

"Ffffuck yeah, suck my cock--You like when I pull your hair hard like that? Like it when I use you?" The words were unfiltered, wild. You nodded as best you could, but his brutal pace moving your head was too much, so you tried to say yes, please, I love this so fucking much, but it came out as a series of incoherent noises around his length. Anakin smirked, ravenous, when he heard your desperate cries, but quickly had to squeeze his eyes shut and let his mouth drop open in pleasure. You loved seeing him come apart like this, just because of you. Because of your mouth. He recovered quickly, and words, dirty things, started pouring out of him.

"Yeah, I know you do. Can you feel how much I wanted to bend you over that fuckin' table in the lab? How much I wanted to--shit--slide my fingers inside you and watch you fuck yourself on them?" You whimpered around him, his words going to your head. Your pussy was on fire, heat spreading to every part of your body. He sped up, and you could feel his head smacking the soft flesh at the back of your throat. Your lips ached, your knees ached, your pussy ached, but you would do anything for him at that moment. And he knew it. He cursed under his breath. "Fuuuck, you're so fucking good at this--just like that, baby." It only took a few more seconds before you felt his thighs seize, his balls tightening and his cock starting to jerk and twitch in your mouth. You tongue was so tired, and you weren't sure breathing was even something you remembered how to do anymore.

"Gonna--fuck-- gonna cum. Gonna paint your fucking throat," he groaned, letting noises fall from his lips as you saw it finally overtake him. You were so far gone that you could barely feel your wrist from the amount you were moving it. You could barely feel anything except his cock tensing up inside your mouth. His orgasm burned through him like a wildfire, and, based on the loud gasp that ripped from his chest as the first shot of cum hit the back of your throat, he was losing himself in it. It was bitter, so salty, but you barely tasted it as it slid straight down your tongue. The next spurt hit you, and his hips thrust sharply into your wet, hot throat, but the cum stayed on your tongue this time. It was thick and tasted like a more intense version of his precum painting your mouth. Anakin rode out his orgasm, still buried inside you, then gently pulled his cock out and let go of your burning scalp.

You looked up at him with the best doe eyes you could, then stuck your cum-covered tongue out for him to see. His eyes were half-lidded, but curious. You wanted to badly to make him desperate for you again, to make him need you the way you needed him. Then you took it back in, and made a show of swallowing all his cum.

He groaned, giving you a fuck, baby as he recovered from both the image and his orgasm, and you registered, somewhere far away in your mind, that it was the first time he had called you that outside of sex, and that you wanted to hear it more.

His warm hand trailed your jaw, a bit tentative, holding you like you might shatter in that moment. And, you were. You were shattered, horny beyond belief and desperate to be taken care of. Every joint and part of your body ached, but nothing mattered other than having him inside you as soon as possible.

"Please, Anakin, I--I. I need to be fucked--I need you inside me, please," you begged, still on your knees for him. Anakin offered you a hand up, then helped you get off your sore joints. For a moment, you wondered if he'd leave you alone with your dripping, aching pussy, as some revenge for something. For some sin you'd committed years ago. But then he spoke, his deep blue eyes boring into yours with a heady mix of sincerity, sweetness, and something else. Something deeper.

"I'll take care of you, don't worry. But, first, you're gonna go upstairs and tell everyone you're going home, but you'll wait for me by the entrance. Then, when we get back, I'm going to fuck you on my bed until you can't walk straight."

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Tag List (please let me know if you'd like to be added! i'm also searching for beta readers for this series, just to tell me if you like the concepts of each chapter, so message me if you'd like to chat about that): @skywalkercinema @throughparisallthroughrome @anak1ns-wife @radiantvader @eloquenceinpurple @rosekillerdaughter @doblasftcisco @rhiannonhippiegirl @mistress-amidala @mortalheartache @xorilixx @sunnytotheend @olivia091108 @aniiuv @sotal3rsa @springnaiad @bettysgardenswift @ursogorgeous13 @avalovesjoe1 @anibeaar @anisluvrgirl @johnbassplayercutie @mcdonaldshelppage @usuck @sythethecarrot @lovrsm

[majorlysapphic]

It's mind splurge time once again... :)

Dearest reader, today I am presenting a charminghearts soulmate AU with a (generous) sprinkle of violence. :))

(Taking inspiration from Sabrina Carpenter's new song/mv 'Taste'. @uhhhh-em-draws-stuff since you wanted to see something like this, please consider this AU as a gift/thank you for your wonderful art in the community :)) ).

TW: violence and murder.

Now, without further ado, onto the story idea!

Auradon is a land of fairy tales and idyllic love stories, so it's no shock that soulmates are a well-known and incredibly common aspect of life. So much so that it's considered taboo to not have a soulmate (especially among royal families).

Now, you may be asking: "how do people know if they have a soulmate or not?".

Well, first I'd like to establish that in this AU, some people don't have their destiny-appointed soulmate from birth. The experience of having a soulmate is varied, and sometimes fate takes a little time deciding who your other half is (especially since once your souls are 'linked', it's set in stone for the rest of time). How someone can discern whether they have a soulmate is through the notion of mark-sharing; whenever your soulmate is physically injured, your body bares the same marks left behind on their body (typically in a colour that best represents your other half). The stronger the bond between your souls, the more obvious and long-lasting these marks are.

Now, let's get onto Red and Chloe's lives prior to the start of the main story!

Throughout her entire life, Chloe has been raised on stories about her ancestors finding their 'true loves'. The Charming family bloodline are known for very strong bonds and picture-perfect soulmates, almost acting as the blueprint example throughout all of Auradon's history about how intense a soul-bond can get. So, it's logical to conclude that Chloe can't wait for the day she finally finds her soulmate.

Frustratingly, for the first ten years of her life. Chloe bares no soul marks, however on her eleventh birthday, she's ecstatic to find a bright red soul mark had appeared on her right knee. And whilst she feels bad that her soulmate must have tripped and scraped their own knee, Chloe is elated to know that her soulmate is out there in the world. She spends the rest of her birthday showing off her soul mark to everyone in the castle, and bells are rung out in Cinderellasburg in announcement and celebration that their young princess has reached this renowned milestone of life.

And when the soul mark fades, Chloe's sad to see it go of course. But she doesn't get to miss it long before more start blooming up, and after a month of knowing she has a soulmate, she's sure she's bonded to the clumsiest person in all the kingdoms. And you'd think this inkling of information would help her find her soulmate faster, but it doesn't. So once again, Chloe becomes a frustrated hopeless romantic, documenting every new mark and it's corresponding date and praying to her fairy godmothers she'll find her other half sooner than later.

And at seventeen, she does. At least that's what Chloe thinks.

I'd like to imagine that there are a lot of celebrations going on when the anniversary of the formation of Auradon arrives, so every year a different kingdom hosts other royal families for two weeks of celebrations/peace talks/gifting. So when Chloe was seventeen, it was Cinderellasburg's turn to host. There she meets Zellie, the crown princess of Corona, and Chloe falls hard. The pair get along right off the bat, and there's a spark of hope in Chloe's heart that this is it, especially given the other princesses clumsy nature. But it would be abrupt and extremely against royal decorum for Chloe to investigate whether Zellie is her soulmate or not, so she forces herself to remain patient and see where the future takes them.

Based off of those two weeks of celebration, they start writing letters and visiting each other, and soon enough, Chloe and Zellie are dating. One month into the relationship, Chloe thinks she's never been more happy, her love for Zellie isn't as "all consuming" as her parents described what it's like to be with a soulmate, but Chloe doesn't mind a quiet love. But, she doesn't want to freak the other girl out too early on, so she plans to broach the topic of being each others soulmates when they reach the four month mark of their relationship (though that doesn't stop her from dropping some not so subtle hints about her suspicion every now and then). Unfortunately for Chloe, she never does get to ask, because a week before their four month anniversary, Zellie breaks up with her.

Chloe's heart broken to put it lightly. She doesn't get where this came from, and soon enough she's wallowing in self pity once the communication between her and Zellie becomes more and more infrequent. But after all of this, it doesn't stop her resolve. So like the hopeless romantic she is (unwilling to give up on a girl who surely is her soulmate), she's planning on trying to win Zellie back on the anniversary celebration of Auradon's founding, now being hosted in the Kingdom of Corona.

It should be noted that Chloe will sort of meet Red at Corona's hosting celebration. But before I go into what I mean by 'sort of', it's time to give Red's life some context.

Wonderland citizens are just as likely to have soulmates as those who live in Auradon (who they aren't cut off from in this AU, but their borders are incredibly strict), but it's a topic that's kept behind closed doors given their reigning queens hatred of anything to do with the subject. Growing up, Red knew of the concept of soulmates, but she wasn't too fussed about the idea - so after ten years of her life with no soul marks, she concluded she didn't have a soulmate and moved on without a care. After all, she was much busier occupying her time by trying to prove herself as a worthy crown princess to her mother.

At first, this meant Red had remained studious and proper at all times, but eventually her exceeding academics and royal etiquette were no longer subject to adoration and instead expected as a bare minimum. Frustrated and still seeking her mothers approval as a young kid, Red takes up the habit of somewhat spying on whatever's going within her castles walls. This is where she'll start to realise how much violence and deceit is involved in ruling Wonderland (this is where she finds out that being sentenced to a beheading is the kindest her mother could ever be in judgement). But who is she to question things when all her life her mother has been presented as the ideal standard for what a queen should be?

From this moment on, something clicks into Red's head (perhaps even a bit too easily/quickly, but after growing up surrounded by violence, a girl tends to grow a bit desensitised to it all). She can be a picture perfect princess, but what her kingdom (and her mother) truly needs is someone willing to get their hands dirty for them. And a bit after she turns eleven, Red's able to prove it.

The first time she kills a man, she didn't exactly plan it.

All she knew that there was a young diplomat, perhaps only a few years older than her, who posed a threat to Wonderlands trades (ego, her mothers power). She remembers her mothers angry shouts from behind the doors of a meeting room when meeting with him. She remembers seeing him storm out of the room. She remembers seeing her mother whisper into a trusted guards ear before they rush off to the kitchens. She remembers realising that the diplomat would be dead by dinner time...

It's a slight morbid curiosity that gets Red moving. A growing want to see a soon to be dead man. To try recognise his faults and pinpoint why he deserved to be sentenced to death. So, she sneaks into the wing of the castle made up for visitors, locates his room and enters. There she sees him, looking out from the balcony, lost in his own stressed thoughts given his rigid stance.

Want to know a fun fact? Wonderland doesn't care much for safety standards, much preferring aesthetics.

So, when Red slowly creeps closer, listening in on this diplomats worried mutters, she feels a certain urge. A swift motion would be enough to prove herself. Just one powerful shove could change everything about how she's perceived. There'd be glory, praise, and responsibility. But of course, Red hesitates. This is a big decision, and the more she dwells on it the more troubled she becomes. But soon her decision time is up, and this diplomat is turning around, surprised to see the young princess standing behind him with a far away stare.

She's been caught lurking. Red panics, and the next thing she knows she's launched herself forward. Red's fall lands her on the edge of the balcony, scraping her knee pretty badly (it takes a few more seconds for Red to hear the diplomats fall end on the ground below).

The palace guards find her frozen there an hour later, replaying the events in her mind. Her mother is soon alerted and comes round, she looks to Red and then peeks over the balcony. She knows what's happened now and Red can never take this back. Though once she sees her mother looking down at her for the first time with a gleefully proud smile, Red's concerns seem to wash away.

From that moment on, Red was not only seen as the heir to the crown, but also as a powerful attribute towards Wonderland's power. Her mother was quick to place her in extra classes and training sessions (for more under the table political schemes), and whilst it may have been a harsh learning curve, Red's never felt so alive. Though it should be noted that because of her training sessions, Red tends to get a lot of injuries. It's a regular aspect of her life now, so she doesn't give the bruises and scars too much thought. But this also means that when her soulmarks start appearing in various shades of blue, they blend in well enough to be perceived as bruises.

For the next few years of her life, Red is given 'political tasks' within Wonderland. And the more justified havoc and death she spreads, the better Red becomes. Much to her mothers dismay, this means Red also starts getting restless on her missions, making her restless. And so after a simple recon task ends up with a manor in flames, the queen is left with a decision: take back the freedom she's given Red, or find a way to let the girl explore her true potential and carry on serving her.

The latter option is chosen, and on Red's sixteenth birthday she's presented with an enchanted, golden locket in the shape of a stopwatch. This object is the key to greater, more inconspicuous missions, as once Red places the golden chain around her neck she's disguised from anyone tracing back this version of herself to her true self (I'm imagining in reality, Red's appearance will just switch to Kylie Cantrall's real life look and the extra magic allows the anonymity enchantment to work).

From then on, Red is sent out to Auradon to do more of her mothers dirty work, and during her time there she burns down various historical sights and takes out a few important politicians. It isn't until she turns eighteen is when she's given her biggest and most risky mission yet: assassinating the crown princess of Corona, Zellie. She doesn't ask for the reason why, she just accepts.

This is a delicate mission, and Red figures the best way to get closer to her goal is to hide in plain sight. Slipping on her locket, Red enters the kingdom of Corona masquerading as a viscounts daughter from a faraway kingdom, simply travelling and making memories. Eventually, she meets Zellie at a boring ball and she get's to work charming the unsuspecting princess. It's back and forth flirting, and Red is getting closer and closer to her goal. Soon enough, Red's got the other girl completely enamoured especially after a moment of vulnerability where Zellie tearfully admits to not having a soulmate. Red doesn't see the big deal, but she plays the part of empathic 'friend', and when she tells Zellie that she doesn't have a soulmate either, she sees a flicker of hope in the other princesses eyes. Red pity's her for it, but she's not dwelling on what she feels when she's so so close to finishing her job. She just needs one moment without guards stationed out the door and a clear exit route.

That moment doesn't come immediately as she's called back to Wonderland on 'urgent news' regarding inner kingdom conflicts. But she's quick to assure her mother that she'll have the job done soon enough, since once Zellie found out Red had to leave, she personally invites her, with lovesick eyes, as her guest of honour to Corona's celebration of Auradon's formation.

Red accepts the invitation and returns to Corona two months later for the festivities, with a collection of hidden weapons and her trusty enchanted locket. And that's where she meets Chloe for the first time, after all, its hard not to notice the girl glaring daggers at her as she enters the first ball of the celebrations on Zellie's arm.

During nearly all the events going forward, Chloe is seething with jealousy. She's so sure that Zellie is her soulmate, how could she stay calm when there's another girl by her side? And whilst the two say they're only friends, it doesn't take a genius to work out there's something else there. But, so long as they're still considering each other as friends, Chloe's still able to try win Zellie back.

Though that doesn't sit well with Red. Soon enough, both girls are competing against each other.

They both are trying to dance with Zellie at a ball? They try spoil each others attempts and somehow end up getting partnered with each other for the rest of the dance (and despite the fact that Red can move with the agility of a cat, she all of a sudden can't stop 'accidently' roughly stepping on Chloe's feet during all the dances).

Both of them are trying to sit next to Zellie at an opera? Somehow both end up getting seated in a private booth and end up quietly arguing for the entire performance.

They carry on fighting and thwarting each other. It feels electrifying to be at each others throats like this. Chloe can't seem to get enough of her dynamic with Red, so much so that she starts getting excited to see the other girl. And soon enough, Chloe realises that when she's gripping a champagne glass and gritting her teeth as she watches Red and Zellie dance across the ballroom, her eyes are following Red instead of who she came to Corona for. Thus, leading to the realisation that what she had with Zellie may have been an overexcited puppy love, and despite the fact she doesn't actually know who her soulmate is, she doesn't care all that much when her focus is centred on Red.

During Chloe's new revelations, Red is slowly going insane as her assassination attempts keep getting prevented.

Her plan to waltz Zellie under a falling chandelier? Annoyingly intricate to set up and unsuccessful. Her plan to give Zellie a poisoned flute of champagne at the opera? Knocked over by Chloe in a rush to get to Zellie's side. Her plan to push Zellie off a balcony? Stopped when Chloe steps out with them.

(Red refuses to admit this is the most fun she's had in her whole life).

Red knows Chloe is doing this on purpose, and she starts panicking on whether Chloe's somehow seen past her lockets enchantments and knows the reason why she's here. So, the simple solution? Red has to kill Chloe.

At an ornate masquerade ball, Red finds a way to lure Chloe into an empty servants passage. She's intent on a little interrogation prior to anything, but Red soon forgets about the sharpened blade strapped to her thigh when her back meets the wall and Chloe's lips are on hers.

Okay. That didn't go according to plan. The worst part of it all? Red doesn't seem to mind Chloe's lips on hers. In fact, she rather likes it given the way her heart skips a beat and how she tangles her hands in Chloe's hair.

And by the end of their tryst, Chloe's feels as if she's walking on clouds (she got the girl after all) whilst Red is internally panicking, having never felt so fucked in her life.

The next few days go by in a blur, Red should be focusing on Zellie, but she always seems to gravitate towards Chloe. Soon enough, Red acknowledges that she's going to have to cut her plans short and get her job done by the end of tonight before Chloe messes up her judgement even more.

So in another mind numbing ball, she asks Zellie to meet her in her room once the main dances are finished. Zellie agrees (blissfully unaware and thinking this is the moment she'll get to confess to red and/or vice versa). Once Zellie slips out of the ballroom, Red follows thirty minutes later.

But of course, there's one person in the room Red can't escape the attention from. And who's to blame Chloe for following her? They've been flirting and more, but haven't talked about what exactly they are. She better take this opportunity to talk to the other girl.

Going through the castle's hallways, she searches for Red. And she finds her, though she wasn't expecting to find the other girl in such a state. Because Red's in her ornate ballgown with a dagger clutched in her grip, absolutely drenched in blood. The blood of Chloe's first love (and friend), who is collapsed on the floor and very much not alive anymore after one vicious swipe against her neck.

They're frozen, staring at each other. And then everything happens in a blur and they're fighting. Chloe lands a good few hits in attempt to restrain Red, but her swordsmanship classes don't amount to the same skill Red has gotten from experiencing real fights. Next thing the girls know, Chloe's pinned to the ground and Red's got a dagger digging into her throat.

Chloe's staring up at Red with a multitude of emotions. Sadness. Grief. Anger. Disbelief. It's a rollercoaster of emotions that's expected, though what's got Chloe in absolute heartache is seeing a clean, blue soul mark line appear on Red's throat, perfectly mirroring the cutting edge of the blade Red has on her.

They stare at each other. The wait is agonising, why on earth can't Red take the final blow? She doesn't know, and she's losing time for her escape. So as the clocks chime to signal midnight, Red uses the hilt of her blade to knock Chloe out.

She rushes to change out of her ballgown into a set of clothes that will make fleeing the scene and climbing walls much easier. But she's panicked on her miscalculation with her timing, so once Red all but flings herself out of the rooms window, she doesn't seem to notice that her locket's chain has snapped and fallen to the ground.

It's a small while later that Chloe wakes back up into her sickening reality, realising it wasn't all a sick dream after all. With an aching head, she stumbles into the hallway to go ring an emergency bell. Castle guards will be where she is soon enough, and despite the fact she should stand still and rest, she re-enters the room.

Shivering, she notices how Red didn't even attempt to hide Zellie's body. In fact, this entire crime scene is a chaotic mess, the murder weapon abandoned in the middle of the room. Going towards the only open window, Chloe notices a locket on the ground. The very same locket that she had noticed Red always wearing during the short time she knew her.

Fate is the most cruel thing Chloe's ever dealt with, she decides then. She didn't expect to relive her parents experience (albeit, hers is a lot darker), let alone be in her fathers role, but here she is with her soulmate fleeing the scene after midnight, leaving behind only a blood speckled locket as a reminder of her existence.

Hours later, when Chloe's being interviewed after being treated for her injuries. She doesn't mention the locket, even when the lie makes it feel as if the lockets burning a hole in her pocket. She knows she's being selfish, but this locket is hers to do with as she wishes. So with a determined heart, Chloe ignores the pitying looks of everyone around her as the months pass and the tale of the gruesome murder of Corona's heir is shared.

She's busy trying to find a way to track down Red with this small piece of jewellery. And when she finds her, she's not sure what she'll do. Whether she wants revenge or something else. All she knows is her old self with a head full of fairy tales is fading, and she's willing to do anything to get her hands on the other girl.

A year passes.

Red has long since been banned from going back to Auradon after her mother found out about her various mistakes (though she made sure not to mention Chloe). She can't say she's too mad about it, the situation rattled her more than she expected (especially when she returns home, to find a thin blue soulmark across her neck. She's not an idiot. She knows who it's linked to. She doesn't say anything to anyone about it).

So, she sinks back into her oldest routines as crown princess. But one day she comes into her mothers study to find out that Wonderland is entering some form of political alliance with Cinderellasburg.

Two weeks later she's sat by the dining table of the Charming's castle, refusing to make eye contact with anyone or even contribute to the discussion. During the same dinner, Chloe hasn't taken her eyes off of Red once, unable to shake the feeling that she knows her from somewhere.

Red can only hope that she can stay as far away from Chloe as possible during the alliance (given that once it's established, regular communication and travel between Wonderland and Cinderellasburg will begin).

Chloe's starting to think that she should try find a way to get to know the crown princess of Hearts. Perhaps she'll enlighten Chloe about Wonderland's magic (the very same magic Chloe has figured out is weaved into the locket she carries in her pocket everywhere).

[gamesetart]

Open relationship au I’m SICK!!!!

Approaching Art to ask if hooking up with girls is okay <3 that you met Tashi one of your classes and you might be interested in seeing her if he’s okay with that. And maybe he’s a little conflicted, he didn’t know you were into girls too, it makes him feel a little insecure about it maybe. First he has to worry about Patrick, and now Tashi?

And maybe it’ll make him feel better if he just watches. Just that once. Not because he’s a perv, just because he needs to know what it would be like, if he’d be okay with it again.

cat i need you to know i waited until i could sit with my laptop home from work for this <3

eyes on me (tashi's interlude i)

tags: tashi duncan x fem reader, voyeurism, cunnilingus, fingering, cucking (arts cool with it). nsfw. minors DNI.

"Baby, I'm not... homophobic," Art says, staring at you, nonplussed.

You fluster a little at this -- of course he isn't, one of his friends on the tennis team is gay (the only openly gay man at stanford as far as you're aware) -- but you were genuinely nervous. Art has a rosary hanging on his wall. He prays before bed. Your reservations were warranted.

"I-I know," you frown, "but I'm just asking if you'd be okay with it."

"I didn't know you liked girls," he says, casually avoiding the question. He's good at that, you've noticed. Sidestepping the uncomfortable stuff. (It's probably why he's never told you about Patrick.)

"I like this one," you tell him nonchalantly. "Her name's Tashi -- she plays tennis, actually, maybe you know her. We met in my kinesiology class."

For a moment, you swear his expression flickers. Swear something dark and angry and hurt flashes in his eyes. But the second passes, and it's gone, quick as it came. He smiles. Nods.

"Yeah, I do. She's good, really good. She won the US and the Australian Junior Opens."

"So... you're cool with it?"

Art pauses, cocking his head to one side. He pretends to consider it. Pretends like this is really weighing on him. He waits until he sees that moment of doubt in your eyes, like you're about to take it back, offer up something else to soothe the ache, to speak. He knows you better than you think. And he knows how to use it, more than you know.

"I don't know," he says slowly, rolling each syllable over in his mouth. "I'd have to think about it... maybe. I mean, it's so different from just some guy."

He makes you think it's your idea. It's easier that way, if you think you came up with it all on your own, if you think you're the one pulling the strings. (Both believe the other clueless. Both believe themselves the one in control. Both are sorely mistaken.)

Tashi was the one who suggested it to you.

"He could always watch," she'd said lightly, over your coffee and her weird green energy smoothie. "You know. Sit in. Cum in his pants, or pray, or whatever it is good Christian boys do when they watch their girlfriend fuck another girl."

You'd laughed. "I don't think good Christian boys watch their girlfriends fuck at all, girls or otherwise."

But the seed had sprung. She'd planted the idea in your head, and now it bloomed anew.

"You could aways watch," you say mischievously. "See if you're on board. Do some research."

His ears go red, and you giggle. It's adorable, how sweet he is. Art reaches up to run a hand through his hair, and that damn ring catches your eye. One day, you promise yourself. Soon.

"You're so pretty," you mumble into Tashi's hair. Her lips catch on your neck, biting the skin soft enough that it won't leave a mark. "You're so so pretty."

She laughs breathlessly, and it tickles. You're in your bedroom. Art's sitting on your desk chair while Tashi hovers above you. You lost all your clothes a long time ago, and she's well on her way, in nothing but a thin pink bra and matching panties. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you think she prepared for this. And you like it.

"You ever see her naked before, Art?" Tashi asks. (Something about the way she speaks to him is familiar. Like she's done it before.) But you can't think about that when she shifts above you, clears the view for Art to get an excellent view of your slick, sweet cunt. She spreads your folds with her right hand so he can see your perfect hole.

"N-no," he says, and you can't see him, but it sounds choked.

Tashi smiles above you. Her fingers - sweet, clever, calloused and warm - slide up your cunt, gather the wetness. Slit to clit. And then, slower than you expected her to be, she pushes a single finger into your quivering hole. You gasp, because Tashi doesn't waste any time. She curls right up, searching for that single perfect spot inside you. She wastes even less time finding it.

"Oh, fuck, Tashi, right there--" you moan, hips bucking wildly into her touch. Her wrist brushes your clit, and you sob.

Art's never seen you like this. You're so firm with him. Kind, gentle, loving, but firm. You're sweet, but he has no doubts about who you are. Didn't, anyway, before this. You're fire, you're thunder, you're lightning in a bottle. You're wild and wonderful and brilliant. But right now, you're a just quivering mess melting on Tashi's fingers.

Tashi pulls her two fingers out of your and brings them to her mouth. You watch her suck them clean with a vicious smile.

"Why don't we put on a show for the boyfriend?" Tashi asks you, and she's wicked.

Her bra and panties fall to the floor. She straddles your face. You take it willingly, licking and sucking at her folds. No technique, really, you've only done this once before, drunk at a party, but what you lack in skill, you make up for in enthusiasm. You eat her out like she's your last meal on death row, like she's water to you, the drowning girl.

Tashi laughs, but it's a little shaky. "Oh, babe. You've got a lot to learn. It's okay, I'll teach you."

She leans over, dipping her fingers back into your cunt. Two, and her other hand comes to toy with your clit, bracing most of her weight on her knees - on either side of her head - and her elbows, balanced gently on your hip bones.

"Watch closely, Art," she says. "Your girlfriend's gonna cum on my hand, and then my mouth."

Art whines. But he's good, he's patient, he's nice. He's not a sinner. He's only here to watch. And watch he does. He watches you come undone on her hand, true to her word. He watches her cum on your face - she's beautiful, the arc of her back pushing her tits up, her skin shiny with sweat.

"Fuck, yeah, that's it," Tashi moans, riding your face eagerly. "Yeah, god, you're good. No fucking -- god -- clue, what you're doing, but good."

And then he watches her eat you out, and by God does she know. She knows exactly what she's doing, tongue flat against your slit licking all the way up until she reaches your clit. She flicks that around, swirls the bud around gently. Sucks on it. You lace your hands in her hair and cry out her name, right up until you look up for the first time without anything in your path of vision and lock eyes with Art.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, cumming-- Art," you choke.

Tashi won't admit she enjoyed listening to you fall apart on her tongue, moaning your stupid cuck boyfriend's name. Art won't admit he's probably going to get himself off to the sound of you crying Tashi's name (he gets it, he's been in the same place). You won't admit you really enjoyed being watched. Especially by your sweet, lovely, innocent boyfriend.

[violetarks]

hello hello!! congrats on 3k. i love your work so much so you deserve it!! ^_^

if it’s okay could i request luka from alien stage with miscommunication & high school au? ( ´ ▽ ` ) and if it’s okay could the reader be amab? thank you!!

congrats again!!ヽ(；▽；)ノ✨✨💖💖

“but we can’t take back all the words that we said!”

show: alien stage

character: luka

summary: you overhear luka tell his friends that he missed being in ‘the single league’.

warnings: g/n! reader, no pronouns used (i didn’t end up put any gender indications at all, i hope that’s okay!!), miscommunication, high school! au, hurt/comfort, angst/comfort, reader is very self-conscious, established relationship, popstar! luka, he’s nicer in this au LMAO

"are you kidding me?" luka laughs out from inside the classroom.

you recognised that sound from anywhere. it was lunch time and you had told your boyfriend that, as class president, you had to prepare some things for the upcoming school festival during lunch, so you wouldn't be able to eat with him. he was a bit whiney and teasing, but soon let you go. you thought he'd be with some of his friends from his choir class, but no; he was in the classroom with a few of his peers.

you stop before you enter to talk to him for a bit. you were wondering what he was doing here.

"i mean, it's a bit hard, isn't it?" someone says.

"i wouldn't say it's hard," luka sighs out, "it's just a bit of a hassle trying to work around other people."

you're even more curious now. you hold your clipboard to your chest and wait to hear more.

"do you ever miss it? being on your own?" another person asks.

you stop, even halting your breathing in case he would stop talking because you were there.

dating someone as popular as luka was hard, but it was worth it. he was such a handsome guy and had an even sweeter voice. it was hard not to fall for him. you felt lucky enough that he loved you too. he was always on tv or always in the studio, and he brought you along too. you wondered the same thing sometimes; did he miss not being in a relationship?

you weren't a jealous person, but you didn't enjoy luka having a partner in music videos or anything. you had told him such, and he told you that he could fix that. maybe he didn't like the hassle.

"oh, of course," he replies far more quicker than you'd like, "i'd much rather be a single idol. i could do whatever i want, but now… i always gotta’ think of others. such a pain…"

the others around him begin to ask questions about why, but you only stand still. hearing it for yourself only confirms it; luka didn't really want to be with you. it only made his life harder. you somehow always knew that.

he probably didn't want to be rude in fear that you might spread something around to everyone that he was a bad boyfriend and ruin his reputation. or maybe he was just bored.

after all, you weren’t a popstar like him. you were just another student.

“y/n, hey,” mizi and sua turn the corner to see you. the pink-haired girl holds out a pamphlet to you with a smile. “here, this is what we came up with for the concert. is it okay?”

you take it from her and try to ignore the tears threatening to spill. you don't care to stay and listen to more. instead, you turn around and walk away with the girls at your side. you couldn't let him know that you knew, not until you were ready.

after school, luka is waiting at your locker. he is leaning against the wall and scrolling on his phone with his bag on his shoulder. once you're close enough, he tucks his phone away and smiles.

"hey, pretty thing," he greets you as you put your books away, "how was your little presidential duty?"

"it was fine," you retort shortly as you pack up your things, "don't you have a recording today?"

"oh, uh, yeah," he says as he watches your face, "it's later though, i can walk you home."

"it's okay, luka, i need to do some things before i go home anyway," you state as you shut your locker. you look back to him and his pretty face that tilts at you. it takes everything in you to not show that you’re upset. “i’ll see you on monday.”

“hey, wait,” he grasps your wrist as you try to walk passed him. he’s a music sensation, he knows when people are upset and when people are angry with him. you have both of those looks on you. “what about…?”

you two are supposed to go out together on sunday. you had organised something this time — a nice picnic by the lake. the both of you were so excited for it. until now, that is.

“oh, right,” you sigh out. he freezes as you lean closer to him and press a kiss to his cheek. “have fun.”

with that, you slip out of his grasp and leave. luka doesn’t call out. maybe you were just not in the mood, or it slipped your mind and you would come to your senses later.

he texts you when he gets home, when he leaves two hours later for his recording session, and when he gets home. he even sends you photos of his dinner with him and his new band. you only heart the photo and reply dryly. you’ve never acted like this.

you just want to make it easier for him to break up with you. maybe if he realised how little you added to his amazing life then he’d finally agree to let you go.

saturday comes and goes, and finally sunday does too.

sweetheart

sorry, can’t come today, i have some things to organise before the school fest next week

luka stares down at the text with his other hand holding the picnic blanket. he stands outside his door in dismay. at this point, he’s had enough.

love

seriously? whatever.

there, you think, he’s finally done with you.

he's gotten annoyed with this change of pace. you weren't acting like yourself, and he hasn't had any good time to ask you about it properly. you just shrug it off and then leave.

he tries to think about what he did, if he did anything, and nothing comes to mind. maybe he forgot to pick something up for you? or maybe he made you miss an important meeting? he couldn't think of anything.

monday comes around and you’ve prepared yourself. you two haven’t spoken since sunday morning and you’ve found it a bit hard to do so.

luka is upset with you, and you feel unable to be enough for him. so you put your things away, attend homeroom and explain the plans for the festival that runs from wednesday to friday, and head off to help your peers.

“y/n,” a voice calls from the doorway. you glance up from painting something. luka stands there with crossed arms. “can i talk to you for a sec?”

you stand up and and follow him out to the school yard. everyone else is planning their things for the festival, so nobody would be out yet.

“okay, out with it,” he grumbles with furrowed brows, “what’s going on with us? you’ve been totally gone and i have no idea why. did something happen?”

you don’t say anything, despite what you want to say. and that makes luka a bit more upset.

“y/n, seriously. can you just talk to me? i really wanted to see you yesterday and…” he holds his breath as you continue to stare at the floor, “why are you being so distant? you act like you want nothing to do with me! and instead of talking to me, you just—”

“you’re the one who wants nothing to do with me,” you grumble out with a hot face. luka stops. “you and… you just want to be by yourself, you don’t want to be with me anymore, luka.”

“what are you talking about?” he questions, now even more confused.

“i heard you!” you say as you jab a finger into his chest, “you told your friends that you missed being single and—and you didn’t like having me around. so i… i just thought that if i stopped being around you so much, that you would break up with me. at least then it would make sense.”

you have tears pricking your eyes. luka is almost the same, simply by looking at you. he knows what you’re talking about.

“i know it’s impossible, but i sometimes wish you and i were the same,” you mumble out, “it’s hard for the both of us, i guess. i’m sorry.”

he lets out a small sigh to himself before a smile dawns on his lips. he pushes his hair back and tugs you closer, gently.

“c’mere,” he mutters out. you’re reluctant, but seeing him with a sorry smile makes you step forward and wrap your arms around his waist. he holds you around your shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of your head. “oh, you poor thing. that must’ve been holding you down all weekend.”

“luka…” you say against his shoulder as tears stain his blazer.

“i know, baby, i’m sorry,” he shushes you, “i didn’t know you were nearby when i said that, i confused you. i wasn’t talking about you, sweetheart. i was talking about how much i missed being a solo idol.”

you blink and slowly lift your head from him. with slightly puffy eyes and an embarrassed look on your face, you stare at him.

“solo idol?” you repeat.

he chuckles and reaches a hand up to brush away the tears from your cheek.

“yes, i was talking about music,” he states, “not you, my love. i’m sorry that i said it that way, i didn’t intend on making you feel that way. i would’ve never said something like that if i knew it would make you feel like this.”

you can’t even look at him anymore. you cover your face with your hands.

“ah, i’m so sorry, luka,” you mumble into your hands, “i made a big deal out of nothing.”

“it’s okay, i understand, sweet thing,” he replies to you, “you can make it up to me with that picnic date if you feel so inclined.”

you nod your head at him before luka begins pressing chaste kisses to your tear-stained cheeks.

“aw, look at you, my poor baby,” he says to you, “don’t ever think i’d say such a thing. you’re my favourite person in the world, okay? don’t want you thinking otherwise.”

you wipe away your tears and nod your head again with a smile. luka grins as well at your return of personality. he leans forward and finally presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

“now c’mon,” he says after he pulls away from you, “let’s skip the planning stuff and go get something to eat.”

“no, luka," you chuckle out as he tries to drag you away. he forgets that you take your job as class president seriously. "i need to talk to class c's representative about their event."

"ivan's such a bore," he groans, "hang out with me instead."

you have to pull him by his blazer back to his classroom as he sulks behind you. you were glad that things were back to normal, at least.

[angelsrcute]

⌗ GOOD LOOKING. 𐙚˙⋆.˚

(´∀｀*)ε｀　) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Tartaglia + Sub!F!Reader ➜ cws: modern au,fluff, hurt to comfort, protected sex + use of lube, praising, body worship, drunk sex, teeth-rotting fluff, Dad!Tartaglia is the dad of the year.

꒰ † ੭ — Part 2 of 7 weeks and 3 days, this is also a lyric fic! mixed up the ideas I had, some crdts to @xschizoe and anon. Hope this feeds you all!! (unfortunately scara didn't get hit by a car)

The skyline falls as I try to make sense of it all.

How did you both get together? Long story, not that you'd complain. He's an absolute sweetheart, Tartaglia, Scaramouche's best friend. Frequent dates, showering you with gifts, spoiling the shit out of your kid. No wonder your kid doesn't listen to you anymore, just listens to your new boyfriend. You swore that you'd never let the walls in your heart down, but it did, for him.

I thought I'd uncovered your secrets but, turns out, there's more, You adored me before. Oh, my good looking boy.

Tartaglia would always give you looks when you were with scaramouche, that screamed out ‘he's not good for you, leave him.’ You never really paid any attention to them even if it was true, scaramouche was hurting you. So one night while you were working your part time job at a club, due to desperate measures– you saw him.

You both talked for hours, catching up on eachother, you broke down while talking about scaramouche but he comforted you, apparently tartaglia got a very good job. To celebrate, he ordered some expensive wine even though you refused, he assured you that he wouldn't mind.

Play casino holes of my eyeballs, Roll the dice on my thighs.

The night was a blur, all you remember drinking too much and crying, your head hurting like hell, Childe saying something. Now, you're here, in his bed. In his fucking bed. No clothes on. Tartaglia cuddling you to sleep while burying his head in your hair. Well, after you both were sober enough, he apologised, he didn't mean to sleep with you without proper consent but he just did due to the moment.

Back to the present, Childe coming into your life was the best thing that's happened in your life. You don't really mind that your child looks a bit like his father, Scaramouche nor does Childe. He'd sometimes bring his siblings to play with your child, they enjoyed every moment of it.

You stopped for breath and I sped up, Just to impress you.

You couldn't help but laugh as your husband played with your child, he currently had makeup on his face, his short hair tied into a ponytail, stylist in the making, you think.

“You look fabulous, sweetheart, you should go walk on the runway!”

“Gosh, Y/N, don't tease me like that–” Laughing together as your kid laughed too, in his arms.

Some whining before he finally put the little demon to sleep. Coming out of the room as he hugs you, prepping light kisses to your face. Leading you to your shared bedroom, “The kid is asleep, we finally have some alone time.” He whispers as he leaves trails of kisses down your chest, worshipping you like his goddess.

“Until the little demon gets hungry and calls the peasants for food!” You reply back, giggling.

“Oh cmon, Y/N, I might die of laughing too much, you'd be at fault. Also did I say Scaramouche was at the bar we hooked up in? You should've seen the look on his face!”

“What..?”

“Anyway, in the mood for a quick sex, darlin’? Wouldn't mind another little demon running around in the house.” He says while he places another kiss to your stomach with that stupid smile he charmed you with.

Oh, my good looking boy.

Taglist : @xschizoe, @iruma-chan,

@whoooismkeee, @t0matensalatxoooooo,

@tartagliaboo, @magica-ren