Tumgik
#They hold their stomachs and kind of look around for a minute before letting out a big sigh and hanging their head
indulgentdaydream · 15 hours
Text
Comparisons Pt.2
Tumblr media
Jason Todd x Jealous!Insecure!Fem!Reader || Angst/Fluff || Word Count: 2,730
Part 1
Warnings: insecurities (reader). Bad self esteem (reader). Criticizing oneself in the mirror (reader). Black eye (jason)
Have at ‘er guys.
Tumblr media
The first thing you did once you got back into your apartment was throw your bag on the floor. The next thing you did was slump back against the door and slowly slid your way down until you were sitting on the ground, knees to your chest, head tucked into your folded arms.
Your eyes had been burning the entire walk back. Your throat was tight and especially your lungs from how fast you had power-walked.
Now that you were out of the public eye, you let the tears finally fall after trying so hard to hold them back.
Thank the crime for Gotham’s low rent. You didn’t think you’d be able to make it to your bedroom to hide your oncoming sobs if you had been living with roommates.
You were exhausted. You felt entirely stupid, too. As if you weren’t enough for Jason. Artemis had everything. Everything you didn’t and more.
You were beginning to think he had settled for you.
You knew he could pull attractive women. Could pull damn gorgeous women. He was entirely handsome himself, even though he never saw it.
Nearly every time you two were out he would have people coming up to him. Flirting with him. Asking for his number. Even when you were right there, his arm around your shoulders or your waist. Or if he was alone because you had gone to the bathroom. That was when they came out of the woodworks the most. It’s like even they could tell you were subpar for him.
The thing is: Jason would never even look at them. No matter how long they stood there. Usually, when he had ignored them for long enough and was getting annoyed, he would pull you into a deep kiss. He wouldn’t stop until he was sure they had left.
You couldn’t even explain why you felt like this. Jason had done nothing to prove that he didn’t love you.
But if Artemis, someone Jason had very possibly loved before you, was still in his life… what chance did you have at being allowed to stay?
Another sob left your throat. You were never in Jason’s league. Why ever pretend? Especially for this long?
You had overstayed your welcome.
Your phone buzzed in your bag. A call coming through. You sniffled, as you pulled it out of your tote.
Jason’s profile was displayed across the screen. A picture you had taken of him when you had dragged him out to the park a few months ago. You were both smiling at the camera as you took a picture. You had thought he looked so handsome in it. A soft smile, kind eyes looking a little off from the camera, the sun basking him in a sweet early spring glow. You had never liked the way you looked in that photo. When you made it his contact, you had cropped yourself out.
You frowned as your phone kept ringing. You didn’t want to deal with him right now. You set the phone on the ground in front of you, face up, letting it go to voicemail.
Your phone went black again. You started feeling a little guilty. Then, seconds later, it rang again.
You didn’t pick up. Even despite the guilt that began to chew at your stomach lining.
That call only rang four times before ending again.
A minute. Then a text message.
Jason: Just tell me whether or not you made it home, baby. Please?
You stared at it for a moment.
Another text.
Jason: I’m coming by soon either way. We’re talking about this.
You frown. He sounded mad.
Your head pounded lightly. A headache from how hard you’d been crying.
Maybe he was coming here to break up with you.
You’d obviously been delusional the past few weeks. Jason was using a case as an excuse to distant himself from you. To get familiar with Artemis again.
That had to be it.
Another text.
Jason: I know you’re seeing these, love.
Screw him. Screw him and his perfect grammar. And his stupid pet names.
You picked up your phone, opening the messages. You send back a simple “Home.” Before closing your phone again, placing it on the ground.
Jason: Thank you. See you soon.
Tears burned at your eyes again, but you swallowed them back.
You pushed yourself off the floor. No point in letting him see you, huddled in a heap of despair, still in your food splattered work clothes. Making your way to your bedroom, you began to change out of your work clothes. You automatically reached for the grey t shirt hanging off the post at the end of the bed, but hesitated. You stared at it. The far too big for you, men’s t shirt that was worn around the collar and smelled so much like Jason.
Your hand hovered over it before you stepped away.
He’d probably be wanting it back after this.
You stepped towards your dresser, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.
You hate it.
You can’t even see yourself as yourself anymore.
You stand there, picking yourself apart bit by bit. Rifling. Dissecting. Looking to find something good, something likeable, until you’ve tossed every part into the “discard” bin of your mind.
You can’t even do anything about it. All your tears are gone. You simply hang your head as you step into your sweatpants and slip on your t shirt.
You crawl onto your bed, not bothering to climb under the covers. Not bothering to shower.
The sun was still shining in, reminding you of how you were wasting such a beautiful day.
Your mind was working against you. Coming up with reasons for why Jason would be with you. Why he would have done everything that he had ever done with you if he didn’t love you.
The most prominent reason was that he was just taking pity on you. He had the time on his hands to do a favour for the lonely, ugly girl because he had broken up with his gorgeous amazonian warrior girlfriend. He couldn’t be giving out favours anymore now that he had her back.
You laid there on your side, arms hugging yourself. You realized you weren’t out of tears. They continued slip out of your eyes and pool to the pillow below you. The occasional sob leaving you when your mind concocted something else outrageous.
You don’t know how long you laid there for.
In the silence of your apartment, you could hear the lock of your front door click before the door swung open.
You tensed, arms hugging yourself as you laid on your side, back to the door.
You heard Jason slip off his boots, the steel toes he always wore clattering against the floor, signalling his arrival.
Padded footsteps followed, moving down the short hallway. Then the creak of your bedroom door behind you that had already been ajar.
Jason’s voice was soft as he called your name, “You’re not asleep, are ya?”
You simply glanced back at him over your shoulder, twisting. He took up the whole frame. He was dressed the same as earlier. Dark blue jeans, dark grey shirt with a faded brewery logo on it, and his leather jacket that he hadn’t bothered to take off at the door. His sunglasses were gone, showing off the fresh black eye that you hadn’t seen. He held a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand.
Who brings flowers to someone when they’re about to leave them?
You laid your head back down without another word.
More footsteps. The bed dipped behind you, Jason’s weight settling on the mattress, sitting in the crook where your knees bent.
A beat passed before he sighed, “What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, doll?”
His hand reaches down to brush away the hair that was covering your face. The second his fingers brush over your cheek, you flinched back.
Jason draws his hand back, “Talk to me. I know how your mind gets, baby. What happened today?”
You stared straight ahead of you, towards the window Jason would often use to enter your apartment in the middle of night, the sunlight shining through. “Are you going to break up with me?”
Jason’s answer was quick. Honest. “No. Never.”
You should’ve felt more relaxed, but you didn’t. You just felt more stupid, “Did you love her?”
Jason paused, “Artemis?”
You nod.
Jason shifted on the bed, bringing more of his weight onto it before answering, “I thought I did. When I was with her. But… no.” Another pause. “You taught me what love was.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid. You knew Jason loved you.
You felt horrible. began to cry again, your voice cracking.
You just… you just needed to make sure, “Are you only with me because— because you pity me?”
“What?” Jason’s hands were suddenly on your shoulders, turning you onto your back. His fingers brushed your hair back and cupped your face. “Of course not!” You met his gaze for a moment through a haze of unshed tears. You’d never seen him more worried. More concerned. More… heartbroken at your words.
His eyes drift to the wet patches on your pillow, then back to your face. He takes in your red eyes and red nose. “Baby… have you been crying over this? Thinking I was going to leave you?”
You look away from him without answering. A silent “yes”.
Jason sighs lightly, “Because of Artemis?” His thumbs begin to stroke your cheeks, “She was just giving me some papers for a shipment. She owed me a favour from a long time ago.”
“How long were you with her?”
“Eight months,” he said, though there was a flit of a questioning tone at the end of it. He corrected himself, “Nine.”
“Why have you never talked about her?” You see him frown, his eyes shutting for a moment. You feel your face burn from embarrassment at all your questions.
Jason takes a breath, “That relationship… wasn’t a good one. It was my second real one, ever.” He shrugs, “It was built off of shared trauma, I guess. Once the Outlaws disbanded we didn’t really have much of a reason to stick around one another.” He pauses. “Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’d even consider it a real relationship. More of a fling.”
There’s a beat. You still don’t look at him.
“You know I love you,” he says. You bite deep into the inside of your cheek. “You know I love you… right?” His words sound so distraught at the idea of him making you feel unloved.
A small breath left your lungs. “I know.” Tears spill over as you talk, your arms still wrapped around yourself, hands squeezing the flesh of your biceps, “But that could’ve been an easy hand over. Five minutes.” You tried taking a deep breath, “Why… why make time to go and have coffee with your ex when you can’t even make time for me?”
Jason cursed quietly under his breath. Your face crumpled, but you tried for keep it together. “She wanted to.” Jason said. “Trust me. I didn’t. But I need that information.” He shuffled more onto the bed, hovering over you. “You have no idea how happy I was when I saw you walking past. You were like some angel coming from heaven. I’m serious.”
The moment replayed in your mind. Your bottom lip wobbled uncontrollably as you remembered his consistent frown every time he had looked at you.
“Then why—“ your voice hitched with a small sob. “You only smiled at her. You just started nitpicking me the second she left. Started when— when she was still there.”
Jason sighed again, his eyes shutting, “I know. I was acting like an asshole. I know. I’m sorry.” He leaned his face closer to yours, thumbs swipes away your tears. “I just get so worried about you sometimes.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours.
You sniffle again, “I’m sorry.”
“No,” Jason mumbled against your forehead before leaning back. “I’m sorry, baby. I was already ticked off that I was wasting time with her.”
You squirmed lightly, still hugging yourself, “I’m still sorry. I know you love me. I do trust you. I just—“
Jason shook his head, “No. Don’t be sorry. I shouldn’t have had coffee with her. I should’ve been picking you up from work.” He moved his hands to gentle grasp onto your hands, “Come on. Sit up for me, yeah?”
You followed his instructions, sitting up, crossing your legs in front of you. Jason grabbed a tissue from your bedside table, handing it to you to blow your nose. You felt like asking whether the case he was working was real or not. You decided against it, realizing his black eye should be proof enough.
Jason brushed your hair back as you blew your nose, clearing your face. “Why did you think I’m with you because I pity you, love?”
You look away, shameful, “Because… because you’re the first guy to ever ask me out.” You shrug lightly, “And… and no one else was wanting to. And I just…” You sniffle again. Jason takes your old tissue and hands you a new one, his other hand on your knee, his thumb stroking the side of it gently. “I saw how pretty she is and—”
“Not as pretty as you,” he gave you a soft smile, lifting your chin up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cut you off.”
You gave no reaction.
Jason paused, “…do you not think you’re pretty?”
You try and turn your face away again, shrugging, “I’m just so far out of your league. She’s not.”
“Damn right you’re out of my league,” Jason laughed softly, grasping onto your shoulders as they fell in defeat.
Finally. You thought. He realizes. This is it. This is—
He took one hand and tilted your chin until you were looking at him again. “Love, you’re leagues above me. You hear me? I’m serious. I’m so lucky to have someone as sweet and caring as you.”
You begin to shake your head. Jason firmly yet painlessly pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, stopping you. He begins to nod your head. Up and down. Forcing you to agree with him.
He presses his thumb into your bottom lip. He pulls it down and back up over and over again, mimicking speech as if you were some puppet. He pitched up his voice and octave, “Yes, Jason! I’m the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen!”
You can’t help it. A smile tugs at your lips. You pull his hand away and hold it with both of your own as you place a kiss to it.
Jason grins, tilting his face down to yours, “There she is. There’s my girl.”
You shake your head at him, “I’m sorry for thinking you were going to leave me for her…”
Jason smiles softly, “No more apologies. I know how your mind is.” He tilts his chin up and pressed another kiss to your forehead. “Evil mind.” He mutters against it, making you giggle.
You hum lightly, leaning into his touch. “What happened to your eye?”
Jason scoffed lightly, “Some thug last night. My helmet was already broken. He got a good right hook in.”
You smile up at him. You sit up straighter, pressing a feather light kiss to the edge of the bruising.
Jason hums in satisfaction, “Thank you, baby.” He smiles again, looking back at you. “What do you want to do now? You’ve got me until nine.”
You perks up, “Nine? But it's already four! Don't you have to read those papers? Don’t you have to—“
Jason smiled and shook his head, cutting you off, "Already did. I just have to intercept that shipment tonight and then you'll have me all day tomorrow, too. I’ve got nothing else but time to spend with my girl.”
Your smile grows a little wider, "Really?"
Jason nods, "I promise."
You play with his fingers as you think it over. Rubbing a thumb over his knuckles, picking up each digit and curling them and straightening them again, "Can we go for a ride?"
Jason grins, "Course, love. Where's your helmet?"
Tumblr media
AHHH!! Hope you guys enjoyed!!!!
231 notes · View notes
thefallennightmare · 2 days
Note
HELLO HELLO
It's time I bothered you with my requests again
You can write it as you like...a one shot, headcanons or something for headcanon Monday..depending how much time you have..
This though has been in my head for SO LONG..like imagine you go to sleep.. single and alone..and wake up with arms around you?? And when your eyes adjusted the tattoos came to display..and you recognize them... they're Andy's??? Why are you in his arms asleep...where even are you you don't recognize the room...IS THAT YOUR NAME INSTEAD OF JULIETS ON HIS ARM??? imagine he kisses you when he wakes up and you're like "this is nice..BUT WHAT IS GOING ON"
I'm Soo interested to see what you think of this 👀👀👀
Tumblr media
@thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @concreteemo @cookiesupplier @thatchickwiththecamera @whenthesummerdies @sorrowsofsilence @exitwoundsx @tashka
Tumblr media
"Goodnight, Salem," you gave your black cat a few head scratches before snuggling into bed for the night.
It was another disastrous night of blind dates set up by your friends and you actually ended up leaving this one early to come home to cuddle with your cat.
You were tired of going to bed alone and silently wished for something different as your eyelids closed, sleep overtaking you.
When you woke the next morning, you felt a new kind of weight across your stomach that didn't feel like your cat.
Slowly opening your eyes, you glanced down to see an arm wrapped around you, holding you close. It was covered in tattoos, two specifically catching your attention.
A large Batman logo with the words 'Mom and Dad' above it.
And a name across the large bicep.
Y/N.
"What the fuck," you muttered while turning over in bed and nearly screaming at the face hiding beneath a head of dark hair.
The faint nose ring was the first thing you noticed.
You recognized this face.
You fawned over this face almost every night.
You've listened to this face sing your favorite songs every day.
"Hi angel," Andy mused with a sleep-filled voice. "Did you sleep alright?"
You blinked, trying to get your bearings on what was going on.
Andy Biersack was in your bed and he called you angel.
Was this a dream?
You pinched yourself to make sure and yelped in pain.
Nope, this was real.
"Did you just pinch yourself?" Andy chuckled before stretching his long body. "Alright, I'm going to feed Salem and then get breakfast started for us. We've got a long day."
Before you could say anything, Andy pressed his lips to yours in a kiss, one that took you a minute to realize what was going on. When you did, it was too late because he rolled out of bed, naked.
You noticed you were also naked.
"What the fuck happened last night?" You muttered to yourself, wondering if you were drunk.
You knew you weren't. You didn't have a sip of alcohol last night.
"You forgot already?" Andy placed his hands on his hips.
You couldn't help your wandering gaze as you looked down at his somewhat hard cock and you bit your lip at the sight.
"You said yes," he lifted your left hand to show the diamond ring on your finger.
You gasped at the size of it.
"Maybe I should let you sleep a little bit longer, you seem a bit out of it," Andy frowned and kissed your forehead. "I'll come wake you up once breakfast is ready."
You looked around the room to see countless pictures of you and Andy; some solo and some together.
What the fuck was going on?
18 notes · View notes
emile-hides · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Are the Jellyfish of Splatsville okay, actually?
16 notes · View notes
yuujispinkhair · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
Rough Mission -> Rough Sex
You always offer Yuuji comfort with your hugs, your kisses, and your words of reassurance. But on the nights when he comes home covered in blood and with that strange look in his eyes, you know that there is only one thing that helps him feel ok again: Sex. And not the sweet love-making kind, but the feral, rough-fucking kind, where Yuuji can let all his pain and anger out.
Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: smut Word Count: 1k Warnings: 18+, smut, rough sex, creampie, squirting, biting. Yuuji and reader are in a loving relationship and everything happens with reader's consent. All characters are of age. Divider by @/cafekitsune
Tumblr media
The first time it happens, Yuuji tries to flee from you, walking past you with that haunted look on his face, and disappearing in the bathroom, where you find him a minute later, slumped against the wall, breathing harshly, with his eyes pressed shut, and his pants pushed down, his fat throbbing cock in his hand, jacking off furiously in a desperate attempt to get his mind off the horrible mission.
"Yuuji, what are you doing? Why are you here all alone? Let me..."
Golden eyes fly open and stare at you with a mix of pain and despair and something else. A feral glint you have never seen in Yuuji's eyes before. Even his voice sounds different, a low, barely restrained growl,
"Please, stay away... I don't think I can hold back when I'm in this state. Please, baby."
And you realize what the problem is. Oh, sweet Yuuji. Such a hero. So caring and selfless to a fault. He's scared to touch you because he's scared of his own strength. Scared to be too rough with you now that he's losing control.
But you're having none of it. You don't run. You walk over to the boy you love. You tilt your head to look up at him and cup his cheek tenderly while your other hand wraps around his rock-hard cock and pumps it in your fist, milking fat globs of pre-cum out of Yuuji's swollen, dark-pink tip as you tell him,
"I love you, baby. Just fuck all your troubles into me. I promise you it's ok. Please don't hold back."
And Yuuji growls. He really growls, and you know his resolve is slipping.
He fucks you hard on the bathroom floor, rutting into you like an animal in heat, growling and sobbing while he presses you down with his heavy body, taking you over and over again until he has fucked it all out, has fucked all his pain and anger into your spasming cunt.
After that night, he doesn't try to run from you anymore. He comes to you eagerly, seeking the comfort of your body. Seeking the sweet relief he can find in your arms and in your tight pussy.
The moment Yuuji walks into your apartment, you can already see when a mission was a rough one. His golden eyes are on you with that feral glint in them, his broad chest heaving, and his hands balled into fists as he strides toward you like a tiger on the prowl. So strong, so buff, so deadly. You are so wet for him that you don't just soak your panties but also your pajama shorts.
"Come here, Yuu. Fuck me, baby. Be as rough as you need."
He is on you in a split second, growling in the back of his throat as he presses his lips against yours in a fierce, desperate kiss. You still gasp anytime Yuuji lets you get a taste of his superhuman strength and speed. When he rips your clothes off, tearing at them with his strong hands in his urgent need to get you naked and sink his needy cock into your tight cunt and fuck all his anger into you.
His clothes follow a moment later, dropping to the floor in ripped pieces, exposing Yuuji's tall, buff body to you. His buff muscles are flexed, veins standing out from all the adrenaline still pumping through his body. He looks even bigger than usual, so strong, so feral, so fucking sexy.
You moan as Yuuji manhandles you, his large, strong hands flipping you onto your stomach and pushing your head down. A hard slap lands on your ass, and you hear Yuuji growl, followed by a hoarse,
"Fuck! I need you, baby, need to fuck you hard. Please... can I please?"
His fat cock is leaking pre-cum all over your ass in his need to fuck you. He wouldn't even have to ask. You will always give him anything he needs. You push yourself on your knees, ass up, face down, Yuuji's favorite position, offering yourself to him, moaning his name, and telling him to take you as hard as he needs.
And he does.
The growled "Thank you" has barely left Yuuji's lips when he already slams his thick needy cock deep into your soaked cunt with a brutal snap of his hips that makes both of you cry out loudly. Yuuji apologizes even while he grabs your hips and pulls you toward him, rolling his hips against you, fucking you open with hard, deep thrusts that knock the air out of you.
And from now on, it's rough fucking in the most primal way. The headboard is hitting the wall loudly with every hard snap of Yuuji's hips. His grunts and sobs fill the room, just like the wet noises of his fat cock pistoning in and out of your creamy cunt.
It's rough, it's loud, it's messy. Yuuji doesn't hold back anymore, and neither do you. You cream all over his cock several times, shameless and eager, unable to stop yourself from squirting when his swollen cockhead overstimulates your g-spot and the rough slaps of Yuuji's heavy balls against your swollen clit make you keen.
And he cums in you over and over again, not even pulling out in between, cock staying hard all the time because of his insane stamina, fucking you rough into the mattress while his large hands hold you in place and your name falls from his lips like a prayer.
You are both in a frenzy. Both like two animals in heat. Chasing one orgasm after the next.
You push yourself up, reaching frantically behind you to grab Yuuji's hair and moan his name with a voice hoarse from all the loud moaning and squealing, growling just like him as you give yourself over to the most primal need, screaming his name when he rams his fat, angry cock even deeper into you.
Yuuji's muscular arms wrap around you, his large, calloused hands kneading your tits roughly while he fucks you hard. And you urge him on, so eager to make him nut again, to make him forget anything else but the feeling of cumming in you and pulsing his hot seed into your tight cunt.
"Yes, baby, like that, oh god! Fuck me harder, Yuuji! Fuck it all into me, baby!"
Yuuji's teeth close around your shoulder, biting you just like he bites his enemies in the heat of battle. Leaving a mark in the shape of his teeth that you will carry for the rest of your life. He growls and sobs, desperate and horny, even as his hot tears drip down onto your naked body, running down between your tits that jiggle from Yuuji's hard thrusts.
"Fuck! Fuck yes! Thank you, baby, thank... fuck!! Gonna cum again!"
You feel him throb in you, filling you with another thick load of his hot cum, and you follow him a second later. Your cunt clenches wildly around Yuuji's fat, veiny cock, gushing over him and spraying your squirt all over the bed.
You mewl weakly as Yuuji finally slumps against you, his firm pecs and abs pressing against your sweaty skin, his strong arms wrapping tightly around you, this time in a loving embrace. His tall, muscular body embraces you, and his warm lips are on your neck, trailing tender kisses over the fresh bite mark he left, offering his love and care to you now that he feels better.
And you kiss him sweetly, moaning at the feeling of your cunt pulsing around Yuuji's gradually softening cock. There's a tender smile on Yuuji's face when he tells you he loves you. And you caress his hair and tell him you'll always be there for him. Any way he needs you. It's ok. Rough mission, rough sex.
Tumblr media
FERAL YUUJI DRIVES ME FERAL TOO 💗💗 I love seeing him fight and get angry, but it also makes me yearn so much for him and want to comfort him. So yeah, he could get anything he needs, anytime he needs and as often as he needs it. I am so in love aaahh 💗
I hope you liked this horny little story about comforting Yuuji with sex ;) Please let me know what you think and scream with me about our fave hero!!
Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗
7K notes · View notes
demonpiratehuntress · 5 months
Text
marry me
Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader
summary - Ace is completely and irrevocably in love with you and always wants your attention. he's so soft and loving. one day, he asks you to be his forever
warnings - none
Tumblr media
When Ace falls in love with you, everyone knows.
He is so smitten, following you around like a lost puppy and pining for your attention every second of the day. He's adorable to you, honestly, looking so cute when he pouts and demands you give him five kisses to make up for not giving him one when you were busy earlier.
"That was too quick!" He whines when you're done, and will lift you off your feet to keep you in his arms and stop you from going anywhere. You just giggle and indulge him, kissing him a few more times until he's satisfied.
He never is. He always wants to kiss you. If he could kiss you forever, he definitely would, and you laughed at the notion when he told you.
"Ace, how would we breathe?"
"We can take breaks to breathe," he nuzzled his face against your neck, his skin warm against yours. "But not too long. Maybe five seconds before I kiss you again."
The sound of your laughter was music to his ears. It was the only thing he ever wanted to hear, coupled with your smile and your beautiful eyes being the only things he ever wanted to see. Your laugh gave him butterflies, made his already warm insides burn hotter than the sun. He wanted to drown in the sound of you laughing at all his silly jokes and comments, and he loved being the one to make it come out so much.
"You're so funny, you know that?" You wheezed after spending ten minutes laughing at him tripping and falling on his face.
He just stood up and grinned, hat a little lopsided, "Glad to be of service." He then ducked into a low bow, and that sent you into another fit of laughter, his ears perking up. He could listen to that all day.
He especially loves it when he can make you smile while cuddling, warming up his body to just the right temperature. Your reaction, a blissful sigh and a content smile, is enough to make him happy to die right there in your arms.
"You're so nice and warm," you mumble into his neck almost every night, getting comfortable on his half-bare body. "I love your devil fruit ability. This is so so comfortable, I don't want to move." Your words sent him to heaven and back, and he would gladly let you lay on him for the rest of your lives.
And your massages-
Ace is a sucker for you straddling his hips as he lays on the bed on his stomach, just because it feels oh so good when you run your hands down his back and over his Whitebeard tattoo. It gives him the pleasant kind of shivers, and he absolutely melts under your touch. If you start to massage his shoulders and sore spots, he will be out like a light. He will enjoy it for a few moments, but your touch will soon send him into the best slumber he has ever had. And when he wakes up, you're still massaging him but you're looking a bit tired so he flips around and lays you down, spooning you as he buries his face in your hair.
"You're too good to me, you know," he'd mumble, smiling at the familiar and sweet scent of your hair.
You'd smile and put one of your hands over his on your waist, "That's because I love you more than you can imagine. I just want you to be happy, that's my biggest goal in life."
He almost cries right then and there, your words making his eyes gloss over, "I love you too. So, so much." And his grip on you tightens as he presses soft and sweet kisses to your back, your neck, your shoulders...anywhere he can reach. "You're the best thing to ever happen to me, I swear."
Ace follows you around like a lost puppy, always feeling the need to hold you or be touching you in some way. He is the clingiest boy ever, but you absolutely do not mind and in fact, you love it. Having him want to be touching you all the time is one of the best feelings in the world, and you remind him of that every single day.
"Ace, stop that! Let (Name) work!"
You giggle when Marco chides Ace for hanging onto you like a koala, "It's okay. I love it when he clings to me. He's so warm." Your words will have Ace blushing like mad, and he'd smile against your neck. Again, he almost cries at the fact that you need him to touch you just as much as he needs to be touching you. His grip inevitably tightens, and he spreads kisses all over your face - turning it towards him if he has to.
He even lets you wear his hat, a luxury only awarded to you and you alone. He likes how you look in it, always telling you that you're so cute when you wear it because it's so big and slips over your eyes so easily (and because it's a possessive thing and lets everyone know you're his). And you love wearing it, simply because it's his. It's him, essentially.
"Babe, you look so cute right now," he grins at you when he places it on your head one day while you're reading on your shared bed.
You look up at him from under the rim and smile shyly, "Thanks, babe." And Ace swears he could melt into a fiery puddle right then and there.
He tells you that you should wear it more often, so you do, and he almost dies from the cuteness and the happiness he gets from seeing you wear something of his. Literally, he almost fell overboard and drowned when you stole it from him one day at lunch.
Before long, Ace develops a different kind of desire, a different kind of need. He never thought he would ever feel it, but having you in his life has opened him up to so many things he never dreamed he would be able to have.
Ace wants to marry you.
He wants to make you his for eternity. He wants to make you his wife, and that title alone is enough to make him giddy with happiness. Just imagining being able to call you his wife has Ace soaring, and he knows that it's what he wants more than anything in the world. You make him happier than he ever thought he could be, and you show him so much love and affection that sometimes he feels like he doesn't do enough to reciprocate. But you constantly assure him he does. You're always there to reassure him, to relax him, to make him feel better about anything that might be worrying him, making him sad or hurt, or stressing him out. And he adores you for it.
"(Nameeeeeeeeee), my loveeeeeee!"
You hear him sing from down the hallway one day, turning just in time to see the fiery commander sprinting towards you with something in his hands. When he gets closer, you blush seeing the huge bouquet of flowers in his hand. He stops in front of you, panting and out of breath (he ran all the way from the island the ship was docked by), and holds it out to you.
"For you," he gives you the goofiest but sweetest smile he can muster.
You take it slowly, already beginning to tear up, "Ace-"
"Wait, wait, that's not all," he grins, grabbing your hand and pulling you along. He is practically buzzing with excitement, and you wonder why, but you don't have to for long.
The entire crew has gathered on the deck, making a semi-circle around the center. A bunch of your favourite flowers were scattered in a circle, making a beautiful ring of (favourite flower)s that Ace stepped over with you and into. It was simple, but when he got down on one knee and pulled out a small black box, the look on your face made it all worth it.
"Ace-" You started, already getting emotional.
He smiled up at you, completely lovestruck. "(Name), I know this may not be the most elaborate proposal ever, but I was more excited about proposing than setting up," he admitted with a blush, making you and everyone else laugh. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me and I know I say that everyday, but I will keep saying it everyday for the rest of our lives. You make me the happiest man alive, and being with you for as long as we have been together has been the biggest blessing in my life. I never thought I could want something as badly as I want to marry you, but I'm happy I do because I cannot and will not imagine anyone better to spend the rest of my life with. I love you so, so much, (Name), so will you do me the honour of marrying me?"
He was crying, but so were you. Tears were streaming down both your faces, but the smiles gracing your lips were enough for everyone to see that you were both just overwhelmed by love and happiness in that moment.
"Yes," you didn't hesitate to give your answer, beaming.
Ace grinned and slid the ring onto your finger, standing up to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you against his body. Before you could ask where he got the ring from, he leaned down and kissed you so deeply and lovingly you forgot every single thought you had, arms sliding around his neck to steady yourself so you wouldn't fall over. Not that he'd let you, anyway. Loud cheers and whoops filled the air as you shared a passionate and affectionate kiss, and both of you were smiling so brightly when you pulled away that you were sure your cheeks would hurt when the day was done.
"I love you," he whispered, pecking your lips sweetly over and over.
"I love you too," you breathed, before laughing and smiling even more when he removed his hat to place it on your head.
And as you beamed up at him from below the tip of his hat that was too big for your head, Ace knew that he had no regrets. Your bright eyes peeking up at him from under the rim of the hat made him sure that this had been the best decision of his life, right after asking you out.
"My wife!" He grinned, suddenly remembering what he was so excited to call you. "My beautiful, beautiful wife."
You blushed, "Words cannot describe how much I love being called that."
"What?" He smiled devilishly, tugging you close again, "My wife? My beautiful wife?" He kissed all over your face, repeating the phrase 'my beautiful wife' over and over.
"Get a room!" Someone yelled, making you both laugh.
"That we shall," Ace took your hand, "But after the celebratory cake, of course."
You laughed as he said this, eagerly following him wherever he went, knowing you would gladly follow him anywhere, and he would follow you anywhere.
BONUS (because i am obsessed with idea of being called Ace's wife):
"LUFFYYYYYY!"
Ace was already screaming for his brother as soon as the Thousand Sunny was in sight. He was so excited to show you off as his wife, you thought it was the cutest thing in the world.
"LUFFYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!"
"ACEEEEEEEEEE!" Came the responding shout, making you laugh and face palm. These brothers.
When you and your husband boarded his brother's ship, Ace immediately ran over to him and gave him the biggest, tightest hug he could muster.
"I have a wife!!!"
Your cheeks heated up again, and you smiled at the sight of Luffy getting just as excited as Ace about it. Luffy ran to give you a hug as well, and you laughed and blushed as he told you that you were going to make the coolest sister-in-law.
And of course, Sanji was crying and Nami and Robin wanted to see the ring, which you happily showed them as you shot your husband a warm, loving smile.
You were finally Ace's wife, and it was the best feeling in the world.
Cue everyone referring to you as Ace's wife or Portgas D. Ace's wife from now on.
Tumblr media
a/n: this is officially my favourite fic that i've written, it turned out WAYYYY better than i expected. this man ❤❤❤
2K notes · View notes
taylormarieee · 6 months
Text
Tie's and Trends Miguel O'Hara
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: You saw a trend and wanted to try it on Miguel...
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader
Word Count:
Warnings: MDNI 18+ ONLY, Smut, edging, porn with plot, PiV sex, Miguel begging, Switch reader, Switch Miguel, Cream-pie
A/N: This was kind of requested but heres the original post where it all started...
Tumblr media
"Miguel! Can I do this to you please!" You ask on your knees begging to do this TikTok trend with him.
He stares at your phone again and you can see the way his mind is racing. Moving like Clockwork.
"I don't know Bebita." He runs. his fingers through his hair. Little did he know you were making those cute puppy dog eyes you know he couldn't resist.
He finally looks down to you still on the floor and see's your face. He mentally curses himself and out loud.
"Mierda, You little-" Before he could finish his sentence your smiling, getting up and sprinting to go find a ribbon.
You. already knew what the answer was because of his reaction. When you finally come back with the ribbon he is staring at you with a look you've seen time and time again, but did you care? Nope!
"This is so stupid." He says as you tie the ribbon around his arms. His arms were a lot larger than others so you needed a slightly longer ribbon.
Once you finish tying it, you step back and observe your man. He looks so cute, yet extremely hot with those bulging veins in his arms.
You observe his hands and ten move down to the sweatpants he's wearing. He always wore sweatpants to tease you.
He knew you couldn't stop looking. Every 5 minutes you tried to at least get one glance of down there before he caught you.
But now? He was dead staring at you with his beautiful brown eyes. That red tint sparkling in the light.
"Miguel..." You whimper. It was supposed to come out nice and clear but more thoughts entered your head.
Miguel sits down and spreads his legs as if he alrfead knows what your about to ask.
"C'mere princess." He whispers motioning to his thigh. You walk over and sit on his thigh. He jolts his leg slightly to tease you.
"Miggy?" You whine out. He raises and eyebrow and smirks. "Yes mama?" He asks.
"Can ride you p-please." You squeak out. You fiddle with your fingers and look down trying to hide from his intense gaze.
"Go on baby..." He replies. When you look up at him a surge of confidence bolts down your spine and you feel the urge to become dominant.
"Your keeping the tie on. And No touching. I mean it." You sday pulling down your pants. He pulls his down halfway, without breaking the ribbon.
You pull them down to his ankles and remove his boxers. His semi-hard cock springs out and soon stiffens at the cool air.
You rub your hand up and down on his cock making precum leak out from the tip.
You quickly lined yourself up with his dick and slid down on him. You moaned out as you felt his huge cock stretch you out. He throws his head back in pleasure dying to touch you.
He knows he could break out of this ribbon but for you and your wishes, he has decided to keep it on until you say otherwise.
"Yea? You like that Miguel?" You ask as you roll your hips in that way that has Miguel cumming in seconds.
"y-yes, oh fuck... Meirda my love!" He says tightening his fists in the sheets.
"You gonna cum for me Miggy? Huh baby?" You taunt bouncing on his deliciously huge cock. You feel him all in your stomach.
You move your hand close to his throat as you roll your hips, lifting your hips and sinking slowly back down on him.
"Please mama, let m-me cum. Please? I-I've been good." Miguel whimpers out. His eyes wide and glossy.
You nod your head and he suddenly rips out of the ribbon dying to hold you while he shoots his delicious load inside you.
He flips you over a fucks into you to keep his load in. Something animalistic emerges from him as he roughly thrusts into you.
You cry out before you orgasm comes rushing through you. You scratch at Miguels back leaving red fresh marks.
"OH Fuck Miguel! Yes, give it to me please!" You cry out. He gives you what you want. He helps you ride out your high before pulling out.
He watches as his cum drips from your abused pussy and admires you in your fucked out state.
"I hated that." Miguel speaks out into the silence. You look up at him and prop yourself up on your elbows.
"Too bad, we're so doing that again." You say with a teasing smirk on your face.
He whines and whimpers at the fact that you want to do it again but you can see him trying so hard not to smile at the idea.
You loved your good little boy Miguel O'Hara...
Tumblr media
Strictly written for ( @luvrxbunny , @queerponcho and @sunve1ns)
Taglist: @obviouslynini @itzdarling @grixonsdoll @aerangi @
2K notes · View notes
leaderwonim · 3 months
Text
✴︎ THE MONSTER’s GONE, HE’S ON THE RUN, AND YOUR BOYFRIEND’s HERE.
pairing. lee heeseung x fem!reader
genre. established relationship, zombie apocalypse au, ANGST, fluff then and there, high sch!au (they’re seniors), mentions of dying and being bitten
synopsis. when it comes down to it, will lee heeseung protect you like he had promised in the beginning of your relationship?
author’s note. This one is a long one and I lwk felt my heart being ripped apart as I finished the ending 🙁 the scene where he sings to her is based off of the scene from “Beautiful Boy” where Nick’s father sings to him. I kind of envisioned Y/n and Heeseung as Cheongsan and On-jo so do whatever you want with this information!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Lee Heeseung was the perfect boyfriend. He was athletic, tall, and most importantly of all, loving. He wasn’t afraid to show you how much he cared about your relationship.
Being the captain of the hockey team came with a lot of perks. For one, no one was able to yell at him for always giving oogly eyes at you during practice, and no one dared say a word when Heeseung would stop in the middle of his laps to talk to you.
“It’s pretty cold, isn’t it?” Ha Kyungmi, the girlfriend of your cousin and Heeseung’s friend, Sunghoon, perched herself right next to you in the stands.
“Heeseung gave me his jersey.”
Kyungmi smirks, letting her hands feel the material of the jersey you have on. “You lucky bitch!” She says, making you giggle. “Heeseung’s never lent someone his jersey before, that’s how you know he’s serious.”
“That’s good to know,” your eyes look back into the ice, seeing your boyfriend and Sunghoon competing to see who was the fastest.
“You hear that breakout that’s been happening in Busan?” Kyungmi digs in her sweater pockets, pulling out her phone. “It’s reaching Seoul. My mom told me about it yesterday.”
You read over the article that Kyungmi shows you on her phone, something about a deadly outbreak that’s been contaminating the people of Korea. It had started in Busan, and it was making its way to Seoul now.
“Hey!” The voice of your boyfriend makes you snap out of your daze. Heeseung makes his way towards you along with Sunghoon, pulling off their skates as they tossed it against the wall.
“You look pretty,” Heeseung leans in to give your cheek a sloppy kiss, one that has Sunghoon pretending to gag at. “What are you gagging at Hoon? As if that’s not you and your girlfriend all the time.”
Sunghoon raises his hand in mock surrender, interlocking his hand with Kyungmi. “It’s weird seeing you kiss my cousin dude!” He says. “We’re gonna go to the cafeteria if you guys want to meet us there later.”
You glance at your phone, realizing there was only 15 minutes of lunch left.
“Sure, we’ll meet you there man.” Heeseung gives Sunghoon a pat on the back before intertwining his hand with yours, pulling you closer to him despite already being in close proximity.”
“Were you cold?” He asks, concerned bambi eyes making you bite your lip.
“No I wasn’t Seungie.” You lean your head on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing your fingers as the two of you stayed in silence for a bit. “We should probably meet with Sunghoon and Kyungmi before lunch ends.”
“Yeah.” The two of you stand up, making your way out of the ice rink. Thankfully for your growling stomach, your school’s cafeteria was only a few meters away.
“There they are!” Kyungmi waves the two of you over, “I told you buying 2 extra sandwiches was a good idea!”
“Okay okay, sorry baby.” Sunghoon says. “Took you guys forever.”
“It was 5 minutes Hoon,” Heeseung rolls his eyes, thanking Kyungmi as she passed you two your sandwiches. “I really don’t want to go to Ms. Jung’s class. She’ll be the death of me.”
Suddenly, there’s a scream, one that is so horrid that it makes your boyfriend drop the glass cup of orange juice he was holding.
“What’s happening?!” Heeseung says, standing up immediately. He wraps his arm around your waist, eyes widening when he sees students panicking all around.
“Quick, Mr. Jeon’s class is nearby!” Sunghoon pulls the three of you towards a classroom. Inside was about 10 other students, whom of which looked like they were on high alert.
“Yah,” one of the guys said, suddenly standing up. You recognize him as Yoo Hanbin, one of your classmates from biology during your tenth year. “Are you guys bitten? Show us your neck and arms.”
“Bitten?” Heeseung scoffs, pulling you closer to him.
“They don’t know what’s happening Hanbin.” One of his friends says calmly. “They’re probably just scared like us. Close the door, hurry.”
Hanbin snarls, but he obliges. He ushers the four of you in, closing the door in a rush. He then places the teacher’s large wooden desk against it with the help of the other students.
“What’s going on?” Kyungmi asks, flinching when a sudden bang comes from the door.
“Quick! Move more desks!” Despite not knowing what the hell was happening, you helped Hanbin and the others place all the desks against Mr. Jeon’s room.
“There’s an apocalypse,” Hanbin’s friend answers after you all catch your breath. “Haruto.” He introduces himself after.
“Apocalypse?” Heeseung’s grip on your hand is suddenly tighter. “What? You mean like a zombie apocalypse Haruto?”
“I didn’t believe it either,” Hanbin slides his body down against the wall tiredly, lifting up his sleeves to show you his arm. “At first.”
It was bloody and looked like it hurt badly.
“I was in the piano room when it happened. Seolhee’s cries were all I could hear before I heard them. Their growls.” Hanbin shakes his head, looking down at the ground. “I tried saving her—but I couldn’t. One of them tried to bite me before I slashed them across the face with the piano chair. I ran so fast that I fell on the way to Mr. Jeon’s room, that’s where the cut came from.”
You can’t help but send the poor boy a look of pity, feeling overwhelmed by the sudden information.
“Is this about the outbreak?” Kyungmi suddenly speaks up. “The one we read about, remember Y/N? Is it the one from Busan causing all of this?”
Haruto solemnly nods, and that’s enough for you to let out a small cry.
Heeseung wraps his arms around you, letting you bury your head into his chest. “Sh, it’s alright.”
But it wasn’t.
You and Heeseung huddle up together against one of the corners of the room alongside Kyungmi and Sunghoon, trying to generate as much heat as possible.
With the whole city in ruins by now, you knew electricity would be gone soon, you just hoped it would be gone in the morning instead of night.
“We’re almost out of water.” Haruto says, getting up suddenly. One of the girls, who you recognize as Ryujin gets up with him.
If you weren’t stuck in a zombie apocalypse, you would’ve gushed over how much they complimented one another. Ryujin was the star tennis player who looked like she hated everybody, but the way she looks at Haruto showed that she more than tolerated him.
“You seriously aren’t thinking..?” Ryujin pulls Haruto back by his arm. “You can’t go by yourself to get water!”
“I’ll go with him.”
For all the years you’ve known Sunghoon, he’s never been as brave as he was now. You could tell Kyungmi was scared out of her mind, grabbing onto his hand as her lips quivered.
“It’s too dangerous! We’ll live without water for now!”
“Don’t be ridiculous baby,” Sunghoon gives her a comforting glance. “Me and Haruto will go, we’ll come back soon.”
“If he’s going, I’m going too.” The emotions Ha Kyungmi felt earlier now transferred to you. You shake your head, not letting Lee Heeseung’s hand fall from yours. “Y/N, please. Sunghoon’s my best friend, I have to.”
But I’m your girlfriend, you wanted to say.
As much as it hurt you, you knew you had to let Heeseung go. The risks were high, but you knew the rest of your classmates were thirsty to death and needed water as soon as possible. You couldn’t be selfish and beg your boyfriend to stay in front of all of them.
“Be safe.” You say, standing up to cup Heeseung’s face. “Please. Protect yourself first.”
He nods, wiping away the tears that escaped your eyes.
“Promise me, Heeseung.” You whisper.
“I promise.”
You let go of Heeseung reluctantly, watching as him, Sunghoon, and Haruto all slowly push aside the desks, opening the door as slowly as possible.
The growls were less prominent than they were a few hours earlier. You didn’t even want to look through the window to see how many zombies were downstairs at your school’s entrance.
As soon as they’re gone, a boy comes and sits himself right next to Kyungmi and you, giving a small smile.
“You okay Kyung?”
You find it weird how close he’s being with Kyungmi, and even weirder that he waited till Sunghoon had left.
“I’m fine Eunwoo,” Kyungmi replies, slouching against the wall. “Are you okay?”
You turn your head back around, not wanting to eavesdrop on your friend. You prayed and prayed that Heeseung would be kept safe when he was going to get water. You knew where the boys were going—Mrs Ahn’s room. She was the only teacher who kept giant packs of water bottles in her class for students who were thirsty. You hoped Mrs. Ahn was still alive.
“They’re going to Mrs. Ahn, aren’t they?” Ryujin asks, sitting herself next to you.
“They are.” You turn to make eye contact with her, surprised to see a purple bruise near her eye. “What happened to you?”
“Zombies.” She grins, although she knows it’s no time for jokes. “I only made a fuss earlier because Haruto was the one who saved me. Despite being quiet, he really knows how to fight off zombies.”
“Hey,” you get closer to her, almost whispering now. “What do you know about Eunwoo over there?”
Ryujin raises her eyebrows, placing her sight on Eunwoo who was talking to Kyungmi up close. “Has had a crush on Ha Kyungmi for over a year now. I see them sometimes.”
Your eyebrows furrow, not expecting such a response. Before you could say anything back, Heeseung and Haruto quickly rush into the room, slamming the desks back onto the door.
“Seungie?” You and Ryujin rush over to help them. They had 2 packs of waters in their hands, letting it drop on the ground along with their knees as they tried to catch their breath.
“I—I—” Heeseung seems choked up, his eyes teary and red. “I tried to help him—I really did.”
Your jaw practically drops knowing full well what Heeseung was implying. Park Sunghoon was nowhere to be found, not behind him, not behind Haruto.
“They came so quickly, we panicked and we just ran and I—” Haruto is unable to finish his sentence when you let out a scream, your body scumming to the floor.
“My cousin’s dead?” You sob out, clutching onto Heeseung’s bloody blazer when he comes down to hug you.
“I can’t believe it,” Kyungmi’s mouth goes dry and she turns over to hug Eunwoo, who rubs her back comfortingly.
You’re too distraught to even question why she was in another guy’s arms right after your cousin, her own boyfriend, just died.
“I’m sorry,” Heeseung repeats over and over again, letting you cry into his shoulder.
“It’s not your fault,” you sniffle. “Tell me he died a quick death. Tell me it wasn’t painful for him Hee.”
“He fell out the window,” Heeseung says, a few tears escape his eyes. “They backed us up into a wall and Sunghoon fell out an open window. We heard a loud slam and when we looked, he was already dead.”
You sob even louder, making Heeseung’s hold on you tighten.
When you finally catch your breath and pull away, you notice how Heeseung has scratches all over his face.
“Oh Seung,” you say, tracing your fingers over them. “It must really hurt.”
“It feels fine when I’m with you.”
The both of you lean against the cushion that’s propped against the bookshelf in Mr. Jeon’s room, your head laying against Heeseung’s shoulder as you both hold each other’s hands tightly. You felt like Heeseung would disappear if your grip loosened.
“Your lip,” Heeseung suddenly says, letting his index finger touch your lips, which were chapped and bleeding.
“It’s fine,” you brush him off, but he shakes his head, reaching into his pocket for something.
“Here, I have your chapstick.” He pulls out your strawberry flavored chapstick, the one that you always bought before the apocalypse had happened.
“Where’d you get this?” You breathe out.
“I always keep a spare one in my pockets because I know you,” Heeseung smiles down at his lap. “I knew it would come in handy.”
Your eyes softened at his words, one hand coming to hold his chin as you lean in to give him a long kiss.
“Thank you Seungie,” you say as you pulled away. “For everything.”
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
You suddenly jolt up from your sleep, face covered in cold sweat.
“Hey, hey, everything’s okay.” Heeseung whispers to you.
You take in your surroundings, making out Hanbin and Haruto’s figures guarding the doors and the rest of the students in the class asleep.
You had your head on Heeseung’s lap, your body sprawled along the cold tiled floor of Mr. Jeon’s class.
“How long have I been out?” You ask groggily, trying to squint at the dark clock on the wall.
“Just two hours.” Heeseung sighs. “The growling stopped for a bit. It’s eleven now. You should sleep more.”
You shake your head, disagreeing. “No Seung, you should sleep. I could watch over for a bit with Hanbin and Haruto.”
Heeseung bites his lip, almost as if he was really debating whether or not he should be sleeping right now.
“Seung, please. You need your energy.”
Heeseung agrees hesitantly, letting you switch places so now his head was on your lap.
“Goodnight Hee.” You say, placing a tender kiss on his forehead.
He smiles back at you, closing his eyes as he let sleep consume him.
Your eyes search around the room, focusing on Kyungmi and Eunwoo sleeping on one another.
Before you were too distraught to care about them two, but now that everything was calm, you really took in the situation.
Ryujin’s words rang in your ear like a mantra. Eunwoo liked Kyungmi for over a year now.
Does that mean.. ?
No, it couldn’t. You knew Ha Kyungmi. She was a sweet girl to you for the most part, she wouldn’t do that to your cousin.
Would she?
“They’re here.” You hear Hanbin whispering. His voice was filled with dread and fear, and your worst suspicions were true.
The zombies had reached your classroom.
“EVERYBODY! UP!” Haruto yells, clumsily turning on the small light that was still working in the room. “WE HAVE TO MOVE! QUICK!”
Heeseung wakes up with a grunt, his arms automatically reaching for your waist as if it was a natural reflex.
“They’re here?” He asks, squinting a bit at the bright light.
“Yes, let’s wake the others.”
You two start tapping your classmates awake.
“There’s a window we can climb out of.” Hanbin points at the window that was half covered by the cushion you and Heeseung had laid on earlier. “It’s not a big drop so we’ll survive it. It’s our only escape.”
Your classmates all start talking at once, some unsure of Hanbin’s plan.
“We don’t have much time!” Ryujin exclaims. “Quick! Climb out!”
A few of your classmates help each other get out of the window carefully, cheering silently when it works successfully.
“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold them off.” Haruto says, the desks being pushed out by the bangs of the zombies on the door.
“Kyungmi! Let’s go!” Eunwoo grabs the girl’s hand, pulling her towards the window.
“Eunwoo—but—Y/N?!” She turns to face you, who was currently helping the boys hold the door against the zombies. “Y/N!”
“Just go Kyungmi!” You yell, watching as Eunwoo helps her get out first.
“We’re going to have to let go and make a swift run for it,” Hanbin says to the three of you. “A broken arm or leg will be better than dying at the hands of these creatures.”
Haruto closes his eyes, nodding slowly at his friend’s words. “On a count of three.”
“One.”
“Two.”
“Three!”
The four of you let go, the zombies automatically piling into the room as soon as you do.
Haruto and Hanbin are quick, climbing out and jumping onto the ground in a swift second.
“Cmon Heeseung! Y/N!”
Heeseung climbs out first, foot barely making it out the window before one of the zombies have got you.
“Y/N!” He screams, hands gripping onto the window as he tries to reach for you.
“Heeseung! It’s not worth it!” Kyungmi shouts, “they’ve already got her, she’s gonna die anyway, it’s not worth it.”
Heeseung’s vision goes red at this. “I don’t fucking care Kyungmi! Unlike you, I actually love my girlfriend to death and would do anything for her!”
His words have her cowering in embarrassment, Eunwoo wrapping a protective arm around her.
“Yah you fucker!” Eunwoo yells. “You want to be with your girlfriend so badly? Then die!”
He and Kyungmi run off to find shelter, the only two who were left were Hanbin and Haruto.
They were silently begging Heeseung to drop it with their eyes, telling them that it wasn’t worth it.
“Cmon Heeseung man,” Haruto says croakily. “You’ll die.”
“Then I’ll die with her.” Heeseung whispers. He watches as one of the zombies bite you, making you scream out in pain.
The zombies all make their way to another classroom when they realize you’re the only one, and since you’ve already been bitten, you were no longer desirable to them.
Despite knowing he would most likely die if he did it, Heeseung climbs back into the room, pulling you into his arms as he did many times before.
“Hey, hey.” He chokes up as he pulls you closer. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s—okay.” You reassure him, eyes slowly turning red as your twitching hands come up to touch his jaw. “Will you sing to me Heeseung?”
You had always joked before that Heeseung would become a famous singer in the future, his beautiful voice entrancing you whenever he’d sing or hum a song.
“Of course.” He gulps, eyes becoming blurry from the tears as each second pasts.
“The monster’s gone, he’s on the run, and your boyfriend’s here.” Heeseung’s lips tremble, unable to hold in his emotions any longer. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl.”
He holds you in his arms despite your twitching body, knowing any second you would turn into one of them. He watches as the light from your eyes disappear, and your skin turns green and veiny.
Lee Heeseung doesn’t cry a lot. He believed that crying wasn’t going to fix anything.
But as he watched the Y/N he loved disappear from his arms despite being physically there, he sobs and sobs. Despite knowing it won’t do anything, he pulls your body onto his, hands on the back of your head as he begs the world to silently bring you back.
2K notes · View notes
after-witch · 2 months
Text
Eight Deadly Mistakes [Yandere Alastor x Reader]
Title: Eight Deadly Mistakes [Yandere Alastor x Reader]
Synopsis: You've made a lot of mistakes in Hell, but this one has to be the worst.
Birthday fic for @absolute-flaming-trash who is absolutely awesome!
word count: 1899ish
notes: yandere, abuse, obsessive behavior, humiliation, I'm joining the 'alastor yanks reader by a chain' club
Tumblr media
Hell was full of mistakes, and you figured that yours amounted to a sizable chunk--particularly since meeting Alastor. Of the countless mistakes within that particular bucket, there were at least seven distinct mistakes that led you to this very moment. 
One. It was a mistake to thank Alastor for holding the door open for you, the day you entered some run-down market in search of a book. Your voice had been surprised and sweet and ever-so-thankful.
Two. It was a mistake to let him strike up a conversation with you a few minutes later, and not pay attention to the horrified looks that even the most hardened patrons in the shop gave you.
Three. It was a mistake, later on, to think he was your friend; to believe that the shared meals, the late night discussions about music and books and little topics you’d forgotten you enjoyed, were a sign of pleasant companionship. 
Four. It was a mistake to sell your soul to Alastor, after his honeyed offers of protection from the seedier elements of Hell, his casual assurance that your friendship would go unaltered. 
Five. It was a mistake to move into the Hotel when Alastor asked, and not think there was some ulterior motive behind it all. 
Six. It was a mistake to think Alastor was actually kind, just because he was helping Charlie with her hotel, and seemingly protected those within it. 
Seven. It was a mistake to, on this day, ask Alastor if he would give your soul back, now that you’d decided to aim for heaven. Because you were friends, and he cared about you, and therefore, he should want what’s best for you--which is to get (you pardon yourself the phrase) the hell out of Hell. 
Every one of these seven mistakes--the last, you must admit, being the most significant--led you to here. 
To you, trembling on the floor, the tangy copper of blood in your mouth from where your teeth rattled against the end of your tongue when Alastor’s palpable anger made your knees literally buckle. 
“I… I don’t understand,” you spit out, voice trembling as much as your body. “I thought--I thought you…” The words don’t need to be spoken for Alastor to know them.
I thought you liked me, I thought you were my friend, I thought you would be happy to do it.
“You thought what, exactly, my dear?” 
A low electric current buzzed in the air, making the lights flicker once, twice, and again before he continued.
“That I would simply let you go?” He laughed, but there was nothing pleasant about the sound. It was full of mockery and something else, something metal and cold. 
Your stomach squirmed awfully. It was not a feeling you’d ever experienced around Alastor, despite some other’s trepidation around him. He’d never given you a reason to feel that way.
Until today.
Until you asked Alastor to let your soul go, and the room seemed to fizz with electrical interference that left the lights sparking and 
Your eyes went wide. And your brain, stupid thing that it was, pieced things together that you had been all too naively eager to ignore until now. 
The stories of Alastor’s past that you’d heard in snatches and dismissed as jealous fantasy, probably all deriving from Vox and his ilk. The way people who knew Alastor from before his sabbatical tended to steer as clear of him as possible. 
Or how Alastor always insisted you try the things he liked--clothes he left in your room (even before you told him where you lived, before the Hotel); music he insisted you’d admire more than your current collection of alt-rock CDs; foods that were tastier, he said, than your favorites. 
“I didn’t think--” The words stuck to your mouth until you forced them out. “I didn’t think you’d be mad that I wanted to get better, repent and--and get out of here.”
Alastor, despite his smile, did not look impressed.
You didn’t have time to flinch as he swung his microphone down and out, pressing it against your throat.
“Don’t act surprised now. After all,” The microphone dug into the flesh of your neck, lifting your chin until you were looking at him through blurs of oncoming tears. He continued, voice softer, missing most of its usual radio sound. “You made me like this.” 
You wanted to shake your head, but the microphone kept you only capable of looking up and straight at him. His smile made you sick. 
“I didn’t do anything,” you said, voice light, but not quite naive anymore; you didn’t fully believe the words now, and your voice wavered. 
Even if you didn’t mean to do anything to draw the attention of the radio demon, that didn’t mean Alastor wasn’t clearly--wasn’t clearly… affected by you. In some way that you didn’t understand; moreover, you didn’t want to understand it. 
What you thought had been a surprising friendship made in the bowels of hell was something else entirely, and you hated the newfound knowledge. 
Whatever it was that Alastor actually felt for you, it was dark and awful, like sprinkles of mold you find underneath the bathroom sink. Damp and rotting and unwanted. 
“You,” he said, pressing the microphone harder into your throat for emphasis, “have been quite the busy bee when it comes to me, my dear.” He sighed in a way you’d heard him do a hundred times before. But now it feels wrong; sticky, oozing. “I’d never given much thought to… certain endeavors before you. And now I find myself distracted.”
His neck turned again, cracking, and a song began to play from somewhere. 
“Distracted?” You asked, feeling sicker and sicker. 
“Oh, yes,” he answered, dragging out the word. “Quite unlike me, if I must admit it. And yet there’s something about you that’s been making me…”
He didn’t finish. The song got louder, mingling in with the ambience of the room. It was almost soft and wistful, except for the lyrics that made your skin feel cold, repeating on a loop.
And you’re mine… mine… mine…
“And you thought…” His voice continued, each word punctuated by an awful radio crackle that made goosebumps blossom up your arms. “That you would get to simply leave me after all I’ve put into you?”
All he’s put into you.
The dresses, the food, the guidance on what to listen to and how to dance; who to talk to and who to avoid. Advice from a friend, you thought. Advice from someone stronger and maybe smarter.
“Well,” he said, almost cheery now, pulling the microphone away from your sore and probably bruising throat. “I trust you’ve learned your lesson and we can avoid this…” A crackle, short and low. “Unpleasantness in the future.”
You should have said that yes, you learned your lesson; yes, you won’t ask again. But you didn’t. Instead you swallowed hard, feeling the ache from where his microphone pressed in, and added an eighth mistake to your list.
“We can avoid it if you release me from my contract--if you give me back my soul.” 
“Well,” he repeated. And this time, his voice was muffled by a brief, shrieking radio frequency. “Perhaps a reminder is in order.”
The reminder came with cold metal choking your throat; a vivid green chain led straight from your imprisoned neck to Alastor’s hand. 
One trembling hand came up to feel the collar. It was real. It was there. And the chain, too, was solid and unbreakable. 
It was a shocking sight. 
You’d seen the chains of other owned souls before. Angel’s, in particular, when you’d accidentally witnessed an argument between him and Valentino. But there had never been a singular thought given to the fact that you, too, must have had chains. Alastor never showed them to you and until now, had never seen fit to remind you about your lack of freedom.
Until today.
Your surprise and fear made you stupid, and you tried to yank yourself away from him; he held fast to the chain and began to wind it around his hand, forcing you to look upwards, speaking all the while.
“You are never to ask me to release your contract again. And you are certainly never to even entertain the silly notion of leaving me, now or in the future. Do you understand?”
An awful, slimy feeling overtook your gut. He owned you, and he had owned you for some time. You just had been closing your eyes to that reality.
A reality that was now choking you.
“Well?”
You nodded. You didn’t think you could speak, not now. Not to him. 
But it wasn’t good enough. He yanked on the chain, choking you. 
“I don’t believe I heard you, dear.”
“Yes.” The word was spoken through gritted teeth. It tasted like tears. 
“Yes what?”  The grin on his smile widened deceptively as he yanked against the chain, jerking your head upward. It hurt inside and out. 
It was so unfair, that your heart could hurt like this, even after you were dead. 
“Yes, sir.”
That should have been the end of it. He should have let go of the chain and let you slink off in fear and shame, off to sob in your bedroom over the sudden turn of events. 
Instead, he leaned down, and for a moment, his eyes glowed in a painful flash. 
“You can do better than that, my dear, can’t you, to the person that owns your very soul?” 
His hand wrapped around the chain, shortening it even further as he leaned in so close you could smell the rot around him. But it didn’t matter that you wanted to pull away from it, because he held you--literally, held the chains that kept you bound to him. Forever. 
Yes, he owned your soul. He owned you.
“Yes, boss?” you murmured, copying what Husker sometimes said; you were unable to look at him anymore as humiliated, hot tears spilled down your cheeks. 
In an instant, the chain was gone, and you fell to the ground with a clumsy thud. Your chin hit the hard floor before you could brace yourself with your hands. 
“Wonderful,” he said, praising, almost cooing. His neck cracked to the side and you imagined his bones shifting in impossible ways to achieve it. “I suppose I should remind you who you belong to when you get out of sorts like this, my dear.” His smile widened. “A healthy reminder now and then is good for the soul!” 
He laughed. Whether he thought it was a joke or not was unclear. 
“Although, I hope I won’t have to remind you too soon. I do so enjoy your company more when you’re not being…” He waved his hand in the air, glancing up at the ceiling for effect. “Stubborn.” His eyes darted to you, accompanied by the faint sound of a radio hum. “Don’t you agree?”
“Yes,” you breathed out without hesitation, unable to stop shaking from your position on the floor.
“Good girl,” he said, patting the air above your head. You watched his footsteps until he paused at the threshold of the door. You heard his neck snap as he turned it back around--you didn’t dare look up to see. 
“Don’t forget to tidy up before dinner.  I’ve left a dress in your bedroom that I’m sure will look lovely on you.”
762 notes · View notes
marvelslittlewhore · 5 months
Text
No Movement
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
REQUEST | reader being into cock warming and JJ having issues to not starting to fuck her because he has so little control over himself when he's inside her, and she wants to try and low-key train him to hold out longer before giving into his urges
PAIRING | jj maybank x fem!reader
WARNINGS | 18+ only MDNI! smut, no plot, cockwarming, p in v, kind of sub!jj, praise, light choking, unprotected (wrap it before you tap it)
A/N | thank you for requesting! 💕
            ◃◦--------------●--------------◦▹
"Jay, you gotta stop moving, that's the whole point of this." you sighed softly when he had to readjust again to be more comfortable like he said 3 times already, his cock is buried deep inside of you for the last 20 minutes.
"Sorry, sorry. I'm trying- but it's not easy when you're squeezing the hell outta me," he grunted, relaxing a little the second he felt your hands going through his hair.
And he really was trying, you have to give him credit for that. JJ wasn't usually someone to hold back, especially in bed. So when he fucks you, he's showing no mercy.
That's why it's so hard for him to keep still right now, being able to touch you yet not allowed to move even just a little is torture for him, but he's doing this for you. He understands that you just want to savor having him so close and all to yourself.
"I'm proud of you, Baby. Doin' so good for me." you praised him, leaning forward to peck his lips causing him to groan from the small movement. "Think you can hold on a little longer?"
He lets out a shaky breath but nods his head anyway. You tried to distract him by scratching his scalp or running your fingernails up and down his heaving chest.
The noises he made and the way his eyebrows pinch together in focus to not lose control and disappoint you, had you almost giving in to his desires, but feeling in charge for once is something you never knew you needed.
JJ's at your mercy now and you knew he would do anything in this moment just to get some kind of release.
"Please I-" He chokes on his own words, his hands gripping onto your hips desperately.
"What do you need, hm?" you teased by rolling your hips one time.
"Fuck- move, please. I can't-" You cut him off by crashing your lips to his, moaning against his mouth when his hand reached up to cup one of your breasts a single finger flicking over your hardening nipple.
You only pulled back from the lack of oxygen, smiling at how dazed JJ already was. You surprised him by starting to rock your hips slowly, throwing your head back.
Suddenly you felt his arm wrap behind your back and before you knew it your back was pressed against the mattress, wrists held up above your head, and JJ pounding into you at a punishing pace, letting out all the built-up frustration.
"Shit- just like that," you whined, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him even closer.
"Would you look at that." he chuckled, not slowing his movements in the slightest. "Teasing me this whole time and who's whining now?"
He was holding your wrists in one hand while the other moved down to wrap around your neck, applying some pressure, not enough to choke you but enough to have your eyes roll in the back of your head.
"I'm close." you whimpered, feeling his hips stutter slightly.
"Cum with me." he pants, letting go of your wrists to rub fast circles on your clit.
All the stimulation he was giving you was overwhelming and the coil in your stomach finally snapped. JJ followed soon after, nuzzling his face in your neck, moaning as he did so.
He fucked you both through your high, pulling back to look at you. "You good?"
"Fucking amazing" you smiled, breathing heavily.
He chuckled, starting to pull out of you slowly and you whined at the loss of contact. "Shh, it's okay. I'm here, not goin' anywhere."
He laid down beside you, pulling you on top of him carefully, planting a gentle kiss against your forehead.
JJ would never admit it out loud but this was one of the best things you two have ever done. The way you were in charge was one of the reasons, as dumb as it sounds, that it was so hard for him to not fuck you stupid.
You just laid there while he traced random patterns on your back for a while until you let your eyes flutter close, knowing JJ would drag you to the shower the second you open them again.
            ◃◦--------------●--------------◦▹
Taglist
For everything:
@lokigirlszendaya @buckymydarlingangel @superlegend216
2K notes · View notes
unmarlou · 2 months
Text
i know you.
pairings. luke castellan x daughter of zeus!reader.
summary. when luke starts sneaking back into camp to see you, he’s changed.
Tumblr media
lacy says. being a daughter of zeus isn’t relevant at all to the story i just needed an empty cabin to use LMAO.
· · ౨ৎ · ·
you thought back to the first time you noticed it.
it wasn’t the first time he visited, or the second, or even the third. it was right around when you got comfortable with him again, when you began to forget that luke was no longer welcome here and that you’d be a traitor all the same.
the sheets of cabin one were never scratchy so long as he lay in them. his bare rising and falling chest was rhythmic underneath your ear, the only sound being a mixture of leveling breaths and a distant wind chime hung at the big house.
minutes had passed and still he was wordless. breaths kept hitching as if he were going to say something, but suddenly thought better of it and let go.
his delicate hands rested on your body, one hand mindlessly moving up and down your exposed back, the other on the forearm of yours that was strewn across his abdomen. this was typical of his visits, though the lack of conversation was not.
not that he’d tell you much, he was always reluctant to give answers or explain himself, something you had to adjust to from being so used to a luke who’d divulge all his secrets from just the bat of your lash.
but he did love to ask about you, what were you up to? what new skills had you learned? did you miss him?
the answer to the latter was always, of course. and on cue he’d lean in closely, a lovely hand on your chin to make your eyes meet, and whisper, “soon you won’t have to, i promise.”
but tonight there was none of that. he was silent and as much as you tried to ignore it and simply enjoy the time you had, it plagued your mind. shifting your eyes to see him, his gaze was fixed on the wall ahead, his expression indiscernible.
fully lifting your head from its place of rest, if he wasn’t touching you, you would’ve thought he didn’t even know you were there. the spaced out look on his face was slightly unnerving, causing your hand on his stomach to reach up to his cheek. leading his face to yours, his eyes slowly peeled off the wall to you.
there was a pause in time, where it seemed like he was just looking through you. windows to the soul were facing each other but his were boarded up and sealed off. concern rose in your chest while also feeling slightly dejected, though it might’ve been selfish to think that way in the moment.
with a soft and kind face, your thumb ran tenderly along his scar, the way you used to do all those years ago. like a shift in the tide, he immediately awoke from his trance, closed his eyes, and heaved a great sigh.
the smallest bit of relief came to your aid in knowing that trick still worked. he was still your luke.
upon opening his eyes, they shot back and forth between yours, his hands miraculously remembering you, and flexing for a stronger hold. though you were in his arms, something told you he was still worlds away.
he reached forward and brushed his lips to yours, with the gentleness of handling porcelain. the warmth of his skin was a brief reminder that despite your worries, blood circulated his body, he was here; he was real. he guided you back to his chest, and now, even the wind chimes were silent.
he’d wait for you to fall asleep before he left. however, a secret you’d take to the grave was that you never were sleeping- only pretending- in an attempt to savor his touch, his scent, his very essence. you never did know the next time he’d grace cabin one.
the light had gone out long ago, moonlight now clinging to the walls. his flesh left yours, and your distorted gaze fell on his back. it was littered with scars, mostly old but a few noticeably new- you suddenly understood why he’d insist on holding your hands when sharing a bed.
you watched his large frame lean down, acquire his shirt, and slip it on. as routine he’d sit on the edge of your bed, tying his shoes, readying to creep out the door and away. he once again wore that disturbingly blank expression.
he then did something out of the ordinary: he continued to sit. you tried your best to maintain an even breathing pattern, to raise no suspicions, but it didn’t seem to matter- he hadn’t cared to look back at you a single time.
moments passed on before his head fell to his hands. you could make out the arch of his spine beneath his shirt as his face pressed into his palms. he labored multiple breaths and you fought the urge to take him in your arms, to cradle his fretting mind.
more and more time passed and you found yourself genuinely dosing off, the long day- and now night- catching up to you. your eyes inherently closed and your mind half gone, you finally heard the distant sound of luke’s footsteps and a familiar creak of the door, before allowing a world entirely of your own take over.
-
the crunch of the underbrush made your stomach whirl with each step.
“luke-”
“shhh!”
he was a fair ways ahead of you, weaving through the trees with stealth. he wore a long sleeve underneath his t-shirt, indicative of the chill in the air; you were in pajamas, indicative of just getting out of bed in a rush.
you were tossing and turning this night, unable to forge comfort in your bed, when you heard the snaps of twigs in the distance. the last wordless visit from luke still reeling in your mind, even after weeks, allowed you to peek out of the window, just to be greeted with the far shadows of familiar broad shoulders. so here you were now, trailing behind him in the woods.
the lack of light made it hard to pinpoint where you were exactly, but it seemed familiar enough not to panic. luke was here, he’d never let anything happen to you.
“luke!” your plea was as hushed as you could make it, still hoping for him to stop.
his turnaround was harsh, almost deliberately so. “what?”
his voice ran through the gaps in the trees, causing him to peer around quickly, fearing he’d been too rash. he took a deep and silent breath before stalking back to you.
standing in front of you, the moonlight streaming down encased the two of you just enough to create an illusion of privacy.
he repeated, “what?” he spoke just above a whisper.
“i w…” he practically winced at your tone, a silent reminder alongside his eyes bearing into you with expectance, “where are we going?”
luke had an affinity for being unable to conceal his facial expressions, especially when he was met with a question he thought was stupid. you hated being the subject of this look.
“i just need to check some things out, i’m not staying.” his bluntness would’ve been a sufficient distraction of its own had it not been accompanied by obvious impatience.
with best efforts, you ignored this, always finding it in your heart to be rational and sympathetic. your manner softened as if handling a temperamental child while giving him the opportunity to reciprocate, “i just,” a breeze brushed hair over his shining eyes, “i miss you.”
he was once again boarded up and sealed off. the lack of acknowledgment written on his face was equally hurtful as it was frustrating. seconds passed with his unfazed expression searching yours, and finally, unable to take the haunting gaze, you reached a hand up to brush his moon-illuminated cheek.
without hesitation he maneuvered away, fervent with avoiding your touch. he cleared his throat, “you should go back to your cabin.”
slowly recoiling and folding your arms in front of yourself to conserve what little warmth you had, he didn’t take a second look back before starting on his trek again.
you couldn’t even begin to feel hurt when anger was seeping in and taking over. years of relentlessly critical thoughts came flooding back all at once; how passive he was, how much you were willing to risk for him, how his face would fall to dissatisfaction when he thought you weren’t looking.
unable to help yourself, you called after him, “what do you want from me, luke?”
his halt was abrupt and he peered over his shoulder, “what?” he sounded incredulous, like the proposal of this question was just as stupid as before. his head whipped back to you, his eyes fixed and dark.
tension that had been built over time was boiling now, “you’re shutting me out! you left!” hopelessness was rising in your chest as his jaw clenched in challenge, “what am i supposed to make of that?!”
wind whistled passed trying to take your clothes with it. his familiar nose twitch gave away your getting to him, though he was quick to relent. you spoke again, “tell what it is that i’ve done. tell me what you expect of me.”
“i don’t expect anything of you. i’m not here for you.”
you were staring into his eyes, desperately scouring for something more yet you were met with stone. gods he was so beautiful. why was he breaking your heart?
with a release of pained air, your face remained carved with fury; you were not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. you began taking steps back, feeling your head shake slightly but being set on letting that be the last words that hung between you.
turning to leave, he was quick to grab your forearm, his grasp tight and unwavering despite your flexes. you were met with an unnerving glint, “don’t even think about going to chiron.”
the most painful part all of this was luke believed you could betray him just as he did you. never once did the thought of telling cross your mind.
the fatal flaw of loving luke castellan was that even now, looking up at him for a fleeting moment, there was a longing for his comfort. eyes flicked to his chest and you felt as though you could fall right into it without conviction. but the trees rustled above, and reality swept in.
you wrenched your arm from a hand that was once so loving, and unable to stand his gaze much longer, followed the path of least resistance back to camp.
-
the smell of campfire engraved itself into your clothes.
stepping onto the marble stairs leading up to your cabin, you bid a goodnight to the friends you’d be leaving behind for rest. the echo of laughs and avid chatter filled the cul-de-sac of cabins, the camp turning in for sleep with spirits still souring after a night at the amphitheater.
the hearth in the center of your earth raged on, casting everyone in a homey glow. shouts of sleep well! and don’t let the stolls bite! were strewn across porches. giving your final farewells to the outside world, the door of cabin one was opened.
immediately you saw him. to be fair, it wasn’t like he was hiding, and it wasn’t difficult to spot the only person inhabiting the whole place. he sat on the edge of your bed, facing the door, his head hanging into his hands. you felt as though you’d seen this before.
“luke?” your voice seemed impossibly small in the expansive room.
his shoulders instantly tightened as he looked up. catching his full appearance, you took a discreetly sharp inhale of surprise; he was pale, an indescribably striking pale, accompanied by a tear stricken face. his cheeks were glossed from leaking eyes, and his hair was slightly tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it too many times.
this was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, let alone from luke. straight edge, always tidy, never-let-them-see-you-at-your-worst- luke.
you began to thank every god quickly and individually that none of your friends had asked to come back to your cabin to continue the fun, as they usually did after campfire.
“i’m-” his voice was hoarse, “i’m sorry, i…” he shook his head, not finishing his thought before shutting his eyes in an attempt to stop his tears.
you stood frozen at the entryway, still taking in the sight. you truly didn’t think you’d be seeing him again, or at least not like this. you’d been trying your hardest to beat down any remaining soft spot for him after his dismissal of you last time, trying to hold true to your anger.
he wasn’t making it easy.
the air had become stiff despite a breeze sweeping through and a sour taste was advancing on your tongue.
he lifted an arm off his knee and extended it to you. such a small act, yet it incited an internal battle between your heart and your mind. you weren’t sure when the dense pit in your stomach had arrived but were sure it was here to stay.
your eyes on his- they seemed a harsher brown than you were used to, in contrast to his newly stark complexion- they were filled with the most desperation one could have. he was pleading.
he slowly became closer and closer, yet he hadn’t moved from his place on the bed, and you found yourself no longer in the entry way. your heart had presently won. it hammered in your chest, shouting words once spoken aloud, i’m here regardless of the pain, a promise.
reaching his strong hand, placing fingers in his palm, irreverent shock jolted you into the moment. he was cold to the touch, iciness spreading up your arm and tying itself around your neck.
it made your next action quick and practically thoughtless, taking an immediate seat on the edge next to him, still holding his woeful eyes. his heavenly face trembled with more emotion than it could handle, and he fell hastily into your shoulder with a heart-shattering sob.
he clung to your torso like a lifeline, tears warming through your shirt. you deemed the feeling of his shivering body against yours the worst you’ll ever know.
as if his torment was a weight now on both of your shoulders, you two slipped onto the floor, melting into the foundation. but your arms never relented from his. the hiccups of his cries seemed to echo in the vast space.
“i’m sorry.”
“i know.”
“i’m so sorry.”
“i know.”
and so this continued. his consistent beg for forgiveness and your incessant declaration of understanding, repeating it so many times it didn’t even sound like english by the end.
cradling him and his fretting mind now, the way you were sure may castellan had when he was young and scrapped his knee, making claims of knowing the pain he was experiencing.
a hand reached down to his cheek and led his face to yours. as a pure act of admiration, your thumb ran tenderly along his scar. watching him intently, you saw a flicker- if only for a second- of the boy you loved, once not hurt by the world he was subjected to.
a whispered, “i know.” meant you did, a solemn swear. it meant don’t tell me to go away from you because i know. it meant his anguish was not his to bear alone.
it meant you knew him regardless if he could recognize himself while looking right in the mirror.
“i know you, luke.”
· · ౨ৎ · ·
navigation.
756 notes · View notes
dazednmatthews · 1 month
Text
must be something that you said ~number neighbor m. sturniolo x reader part nine
long awaited meeting <3333 i’m so nervous omfg. i really hope you guys like it and it’s all it was hoped to be. ahhhh okay let’s gooooooo
y/n had spent nearly twenty minutes in front of the mirror by the time matt had pulled up outside. she ran her hands anxiously down her body, adjusting and readjusting the straps of her tank top. she’d reapplied her lip gloss about forty-five different times, changed her hair twice and huffed in frustration a million times over.
but if someone asked her, she would still claim that she didn’t care that she was about to be in the actual presence of matt. the guy she texted on whim when she was bored. the guy she’d been texting for a month now, getting to know him pretty much inside and out. the guy that was doing the same to her.
oh god, she thinks. i’m gonna be sick.
it’s only after the five minute warning from him does she grab her bag and make her way to the door. her stomach is filled with butterflies, and she feels like she’s genuinely tweaking out over the fact that she’s about to be face to face with the same boy that she’s almost positive she’s completely infatuated with she likes.
she can’t find it in her to let matt see through her though, so she locks her door with a new found confidence and trudges down the stairs. when she gets to the parking lot, she’s surprised to see matt outside of his car, leaning on the hood with his feet crossed.
he’s wearing a white and red, three quarter sleeve top, blue jeans and boots on his feet. the chain he usually wears is replaced with a cute necklace with a horse pendant on it. all in all, the outfit makes y/n want to rip her hair out. she feels weird suddenly, like maybe she doesn’t look right or won’t be what he expected- or even worse what he wanted.
it disappears as quick as it came though, when matt looks over to her and says, “thank fucking god. i thought i was gonna have to go door to door to find you and drag you out here.”
it’s just what she needs to release all the awkward tension she’d been holding. “i would’ve pretended not to know you so you got arrested for being a creeper.”
he shakes his head, eyes bright and hair falling into his eyes, “you’re just as annoying in person. damn.”
“and you’re shorter than i thought you’d be.”
matt glares at her a little. “oh fuck off.” he does a double take slightly, running his eyes down her body. “you look good. really good.”
she doesn’t know what to do, so she just shoves his shoulder. “shut up.”
she’s standing maybe ten feet in front of him still, not moving. “c’mere,” he says, gesturing her closer. “don’t act all shy now. you were in my messages talking about road head ten minutes ago.”
he pulls her in for a hug before she can even think to be embarrassed. seeing matt feels crazy. being in front of his face, no screen to separate them, feels insane. but touching matt? her face in his chest and his arms wrapped around her waist, fingers grazing the skin in between her top and her pants, made her feel absolutely deranged.
he smells so good she kind of hates him for it, and the way he’s holding on to her kind of makes her want to kiss him. it’s enough for her to pull back and look up at him through her lashes. “hi.”
it’s soft, completely out of character for their dynamic and sickly sweet. not the kind of sweet she is when she’s trying to get under his skin, but the kind of sweet that comes when you’re completely comfortable around someone. y/n can’t explain it, but for some reason, she feels the world fall away.
matt looks down at her with a boyish grin. “hi.” his voice is making her stomach do flips and tricks; so raspy and low. she really might kiss him now.
he holds her for a little longer before he pulls away, guiding her to the passenger door. “alright, let’s go.” he says, opening the door and leaning against it with a wide grin. “no time to waste. i’ve got plans for you.”
something weird blooms in her chest. it’s different than any feeling matt has ever given her. it’s scary as hell, so she forces herself to shake away the feeling. she shakes her head in amusement at the excitement that matt never shows lighting up his entire body.
in that moment, she’s sure she would’ve followed him damn near anywhere.
-
“what about this one?” y/n says, turning to matt who lingered closely behind her. he gives her a flat look at the ‘i heart dilfs’ poster she holds up.
“why the fuck would i put that in my room?”
she shrugs, “why not?”
he ignores her, going around to the shelf full of rolling trays next to her. she takes a moment to quietly admire him, eyes taking in every inch of his body. the way he stands with his body facing forward but still turned in her direction, the way his eyes dart from tray to tray with peaked interest and then way he chuckles softly when he reads something funny. it’s making her head spin, being close enough to touch him. he had felt like such a far away concept behind her phone screen and now, her brain is having trouble grasping that he’s right there.
maybe that’s why she finds herself drawn to him. finding little ways to touch him even if it’s not necessary. like now, she leans over his arm, pointing at a lava lamp. “that would be cute in your room.”
matt looks like he’s immediately about to protest, not even because he’s registered what she said but because, well that’s what they do. he doesn’t though, eyes shifting to the box. he considers it, before grabbing it. it’s purple and pink with tiny specks of orange, and he agrees despite himself.
“yeah, i think i’ll get it.”
y/n is pleased with herself then, standing back upright when he moves to the registers. when he gets to the cashier, she stands off to the side admiring a spinning wheel of keychains. matt can’t be more than ten feet from her, and she thinks it’s obvious that they were here together with the way they’ve been attached at the hip since they stepped in the store, but by the way a pretty redhead stops him on his way back to her, maybe it wasn’t.
“hi,” she says, stepping into his way. “i like your outfit.” y/n is doing everything she can to ignore the interaction in front of her, staring hard at a particularly ugly cartoon lanyard.
“thank you.” matt says. his voice is monotone and she tries not to smile at it.
“i was wondering if i could get your number?” any trace of happiness is wiped from her body. “sorry if that’s forward. i just saw you from over there and think you’re really cute.”
the girl is pretty, big auburn ringlets framing her face perfectly. from the quick glance at her, y/n sees wide, bright green eyes and long pretty lashes. give me a fucking break, she thinks bitterly, rolling her eyes.
“oh,” matt doesn’t seem surprised, but y/n can’t decipher his tone. she knows she has no right to feel any kind of way about it. she knows matt’s not her boyfriend, not anything but her friend, who she had literally just met today, but fuck it if she can control the green monster tearing through her chest. “thanks, but no. i’m here with someone.”
she wishes it didn’t make her as elated as it did. wish the warmth radiating in her fingertips and cheeks didn’t slam into her full force. but it did. it really fucking did.
she tried to control the silly grin on her face, turning her head and pressing it into her shoulder slightly. when the girl apologizes and walks away, matt is back at her side and it takes all she has not to touch him.
“sorry that took so long,” he says. “cashier yapped about a sale for forever.”
“mhm,” she says, trying and somewhat failing to push her feelings down. “whatever.”
matt slings an arm around her shoulders, steering her towards the door. “let’s go somewhere else. i hate malls and i’m fucking starving.”
-
after they get food, burgers and fries from a small place in a plaza somewhere, matt and y/n are walking through a park, exchanging stories of their siblings. y/n tells matt that the fact that he’s a triplet is something she thinks about daily, because it’s so fucking weird. matt tells her she’s an idiot and that he literally doesn’t know life any other way.
they reach a bench over looking water and decide to sit. there’s no one around, except for a stray jogger every couple minutes. y/n turns her body towards matt, surprised to see that he’s already looking at her.
“what?” she says, giving him a weird look. there’s a slight smirk on the corner of his lips, and his baby blues are looking at her like he can see through her completely.
“nothing. just wondering how long we’re gonna keep doing this.”
y/n is taken aback by that. “hanging out?” she chuckles. “got somewhere better to be?”
matt rolls his eyes. “not what i meant.” he slides closer to her. “i meant, keep pretending that this thing between us isn’t here.”
his words make her heart stutter. she can feel her eyes widen the tiniest bit. “i can tell you took that “be direct” thing to heart.”
“and i can tell you’re still sticking to the whole ‘deny, deny, deny’ thing.”
theres a soft breeze that filters through the space between them, making matt’s stray hairs go every which way. in instinct, y/n reaches up, fixing it. “i’m not denying anything.” she shrugs, somewhat shyly. “i just want to hear you say it. it’s a nice break from hearing how much i annoy you all the time.”
matt lowers his head, making himself known in her space. there’s a fingertip of length between them, and he slides his left hand carefully up her shoulder, settling it on the side of her neck. y/n can feel her heart hammering in her ribcage, all the feelings she’d spent god knows how long smothering in teasing banter and annoyed remarks bubbling up to the surface. she was kind of enamored with matt and she knew there was no use in denying it any longer.
“you do annoy me,” matt breathes. “so fucking bad.”
“yeah?”
“yeah,” he says, tightening his hold on her. she feels her bones turn to jelly. “it annoys me how much i like talking to you. it annoys me how much i miss it when you’re not in my phone talking about crazy shit.” his thumb makes its way to right under her bottom lip then, rubbing the skin affectionately. “but what annoys me the most, is how you have no idea how fucking crazy you drive me.”
y/n sees those pesky stars again as matt’s voice drops even lower. “miss you all the time. even now, when you’re right in front of me.”
y/n can’t stand it then. he’s said everything she wanted, everything she needed to hear. she got her confession, got the confirmation that everything she’d been feeling was definitely not one-sided or made up and now all she wanted to do was kiss the boy in front of her. so she does.
she hooks her hand on the back of his neck, pulling him with a gentle urgency, right where she needs him. it’s something that rivals true peace, the way they collide. matt’s hands are gripping her face so firmly, like he can’t stand the thought of her not being close and y/n’s are tangled so tightly in his hair like she never wants to let go.
it’s a month of pent up feelings overflowing and spilling out on to their fingertips. it’s so many things unsaid that have never been clearer than right now.
when the two pull apart, y/n can’t help herself. “damn. if i knew you could kiss like that i would’ve skipped all the getting to know you bullshit. your personality not that great anyways.”
matt stares incredulously, lips puffy and cheeks slightly pink. “only you have the ability to ruin a moment as good as that one.” he hangs his head with a snort. “you’re unfuckingbelievable.”
“you better fucking believe it, motherfucker. you’re stuck with me now.”
matt thinks maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world after all.
a/n: how are we feeling cherrie nation!!!!!! let me know. it’s time to get back to the silly goofy texts now cause i miss them. love u all <3333
TAGS:
@sturnioloco @peachmels @sugrhigh @tastesousweet @rootbeerworshiper @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @ilovechrisssturniolo @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez @inkyray @simply-a-simper @lanas-doll @wh0resstuff @hypnotizedsturn @riowritesitall @kitaysworld @h3arts4harry @fikefries @conspiracy-ash @kriissy4gov @matty-bear @always-reading @thehighgrounds
700 notes · View notes
kyra-cooneyx · 8 days
Text
fight club // o.batlle x reader
Tumblr media
summary: you get hurt during a game and find out afterwards that ona can be very protective
it wasn’t uncommon for referees to carry on play after a player goes down but after watching you get taken out over and over again, ona could feel her anger towards the ref growing with every tackle she let go. even more so with the real madrid back line who were seeing the lack of discipline as an opportunity to continually target you.
and it wasn’t that ona didn’t think you couldn’t handle yourself because you could. you just weren’t a fan of confrontation of any kind. especially when it came to the football pitch.
so when you ended up on the floor again, ona felt it was only right for her to get angry on your behalf. as you nursed your incredibly sore ankle, you could hear the heated discussion between ona, the ref, and whichever real madrid defender had taken their turn.
“are you okay?” aitana asked, holding her hand out to help you up.
you took it gratefully, wincing slightly as you put pressure on your ankle. she gave you a look but you waved her off. “i’m good. thanks aita.”
as the midfielder nodded and walked off, you could faintly hear the ref warning ona about her attitude. and if you weren’t in so much discomfort, you probably would’ve laughed at the sheer look of disbelief on your girlfriend’s face.
you managed to catch her eyes and when her eyebrows lifted slightly, you gave her an assuring smile. but unfortunately for you, ona knew you.
she could see the pain on your face as you limped back into position and even if you pretended you were okay, she had a feeling that you wouldn’t be on the pitch much longer if the defenders had anything to say about it.
luckily the halftime whistle blew before that happened and ona made her way over to you, wrapping her arm around your waist. you leaned into her, guiding her away from the changing room.
you leaned back against a wall, eyebrows furrowing when you felt ona’s hands dance around the bottom of your shorts.
“oni, what are you doing?” you asked quietly, hissing as she pressed down on a bruise. “ow! don’t do that!”
“you’re going to have lots of these.” she said and you nodded.
“i’m aware and if you touch any of them, i’ll hurt you, comprendida?”
ona rolled her eyes but nodded, and you pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek. “comprendida.”
the second half was going suspiciously well for you in the sense that you hadn’t been touched. it left a weird feeling in your stomach but you pushed it aside and ran down the field with patri in tow, the ball at her feet.
she kicked the ball towards you and you skilfully stepped around one of the defenders to retrieve it.
and for a second, everything was going to plan. you brought your foot back, ready to smash the ball into the back of the net when you felt two somethings—two someone’s—crash into your sides, twisting your leg awkwardly and making your head collide with another head.
since ona was still near the middle of the pitch, she could only watch on as you dropped to the floor, one hand cradling your head and the other clutching your knee. there was a crowd around you, a mixture of barcelona and real madrid players and the referee.
ona shoved her way through, glaring at the two players who were at fault. alexia stepped in front of the younger spaniard, cutting her view off as the medics ran over to tend to you.
“not the time or place.” alexia said quietly, nudging ona closer to the barcelona players.
along with the pain spreading through you, you were acutely aware that it was ingrid whispering reassurances and not ona but you didn’t have any energy left in you to really care.
once you were escorted to the medical room, your nose was plugged whilst your knee was examined and by some miracle, you came away with a mild concussion, a sprained knee, and a few weeks rest.
when ona followed around ten minutes later, her heart sunk at the sight of you bruised, bandaged, and crying quietly.
she threw her arms around you with a second thought and you melted into her, sighing softly. “did you get subbed off?”
you were met with silence for a few seconds. “…not exactly.”
your eyebrows furrowed and you moved back to look up at her, the guilty expression on her face telling you all you needed to know. “oh, oni, no—“
“it was not a straight red,” she told you, brushing her fingers along your cheek. “prometo mi amor.”
you shook your head fondly, leaning back into her. asking questions was pointless, you knew that whatever happened on the pitch was going to be discussed at length amongst the girls and it was probably plastered all over social media too.
after the medics had explained everything again to ona, the two of you slowly made your way into the changing room. and whilst you were met with sympathy from the older players, ona was met with excitement from the younger players. and mapi. who was quick to gently grab you and sit you down so she could be the one to tell you what happened.
you were pretty sure that mapi was over exaggerating absolutely everything she was saying. but you nodded along anyway since she was practically vibrating. you were fairly certain that ona didn’t go around two footing every single real madrid player on the pitch but judging by the looks on everyone else’s faces, it wasn’t too far off what actually happened. and when ona’s face flushed red once mapi started the second yellow card part of the story, you were absolutely certain that the over exaggerating was no longer happening.
“i can’t believe you shoved her.” you giggled quietly to your girlfriend once everyone was situated comfortably on the bus. your legs thrown over her lap as she rubbed gentle circles into your ankle.
ona didn’t reply but you could see the flush on her cheeks again. you dug your heel into her leg, yelping as she pressed down on some of the many bruises littering your legs.
you slapped at her hands, glaring as she laughed, quickly overpowering you and pinning your hands down. “hey i’m injured, you can’t be mean to me.”
ona kissed the pout from your lips just as mapi’s head popped out of nowhere. “so we are thinking of starting a fight club—“
the spaniard was yanked away before she could say anything else which left you and ona sharing looks and giggles as you cuddled into her, a small smirk on your face. “maybe you should consider joining.”
the groan that left ona’s lips had you giggling again, the events of the day slowly becoming long forgotten. “por favor don’t start.”
“sorry, i’ll leave you alone now.”
a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, the chattering of the other girls serving as background noise. ona pulled you closer and you hummed in content. “you don’t really mean that, do you?”
“i think we both know the answer to that, don’t we, mike tyson?”
657 notes · View notes
yxngbxkkie · 5 months
Text
7 minutes in heaven (b.c)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
so, i found a forced proximity prompt list and decided that i want to dabble in a few of them. and, channie is the first one 🤭 i hope you guys like it! let me know what you think 🩷
feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰
“Jihyun, I told you I don't like these kinds of games,” you tell your roommate, trying to get her to stop dragging you.
She stops, and you almost run into her. “Oh come on, Y/N. It's our last year of college. You need to live a little,” she scolds you, narrowing her eyes.
“I can live a little. I don't have to play childish games in a frat house to live,” you remind her, not fond of how she's speaking to you.
“Just one round, and then we can leave,” Jihyun attempts to negotiate, squeezing your hand in hers. “Plus, Chan is playing.”
The tips of your ears start to turn red at the thought of Bang Chan, the president of this frat, Theta Kappa Phi. You've had the biggest crush on him since your sophomore year.
You press your lips together before glancing around. “One round, and I'm gone,” you tell her in a hushed whisper.
Your roommate claps her hands and continues leading you into one of the many bedrooms. Your heart pounds in your chest as you lower yourself onto the floor.
“It's a strange sight to see you, Y/N,” Chan greets you with a soft smile.
A shy chuckle leaves your lips as you nod your head. “It's strange to be here,” you giggle, tucking some hair behind your ear.
Chan chuckles and pats your leg. “Well, Jihyun talks about you a lot, so I'm glad that you could make it.”
Butterflies swarm around your stomach at his touch. Hyunjin runs in with an empty bottle before either of you can say anything else. The other drunk students around you cheer as the taller man sets the bottle in the middle of the circle.
“Who would like to start?” Hyunjin grins, holding his hands out.
“How about our wonderful President,” Felix suggests, smirking lightly.
Chan laughs, and he shakes his head. “I don't want to go first,” he mentions, his eyes dancing between his two buddies.
“Too late, spin old man,” Hyunjin laughs, lowering himself to the floor.
You watch Chan sigh and move to sit on his knees. His veiny hands grasp the clear bottle before he spins it fast. You don't realize you're holding your breath as you keep your eyes on the bottle.
No fucking way… You think to yourself when the bottle stops on you. You can feel your heartbeat pounding as his eyes meet yours.
Cheers and hollers echo off of the walls as you grow more and more embarrassed. Chan releases a sigh, standing to his feet before holding his hand out to you.
“Come on,” he whispers loud enough for you to hear.
You swallow thickly, reaching out to grab his hand. Chan pulls you off of the floor and leads you towards the hallway closet. He opens the door and allows you to go in first.
Clasping your hands together as you peek into the dimly lit closet. “Uhm,” you pause, tilting your head to look up at him. “Is now… is now a bad time to tell you I'm claustrophobic?”
“Shit, really?” He mutters, a frown settling in on his face. Chan starts to mumble incoherently, trying to figure out a solution.
You tuck your lip between your teeth and decide to do it anyway. “If we keep the light on, I'll be okay,” you reassure him, not wanting to miss out on this opportunity.
“Are you sure?” He asks while stroking your arms. “I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”
“With you, I'll be okay,” you end up blurring out.
Chan's frown turns into a smile, and he nods his head. “Okay. I'll go in first,” he says before stepping into the tiny closet.
You follow him, pressing your hand against his chest as he shuts the door. You can feel the palms of your hands beginning to sweat, and you start to fiddle with his shirt.
“You okay?” Chan whispers, bringing his hand up to move the hair out of your face.
“Mhm,” you hum, nodding your head slowly.
He brings one of his arms around your waist, tugging your body closer to his. You lift your head to look at him, hoping he can't feel how fast your heart's beating. His eyes stare into yours as his hand gently rubs your lower back.
The longer the two of you stare at each other, the more you notice the light freckles decorating his cheeks. Your gaze flickers between admiring his freckles and his dark eyes.
“I've never noticed your freckles before,” you whisper to him, lifting a hand to gently touch them. “It's cute.”
Chan giggles, dipping his head down. “You can see them?” He asks, bringing his free hand to his other cheek. “I haven't gotten much sun, so they're pretty light.”
“Mm, yeah,” you agree, dragging the tip of your finger to each one you find. “They're pretty light, but I can see them at this angle.”
“And, you think they're cute?” He asks, leaning his face closer to you.
You nod your head, not trusting your voice as the guy you've had a crush on for two years gets closer. Your eyes flutter shut when his nose brushes yours, your breath hitching.
“I'm going to kiss you, okay?” Chan mutters against your lips, your heart jumping at the light touch.
“Yeah… yeah,” you breathe out, releasing a deep breath.
He fully plants his lips on yours, and your grip on his shirt tightens. You're kissing your crush. He asked to kiss you. He's actually kissing you. The hand on his face glides to the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the ends of his hair.
“Shit, your lips are so soft,” Chan mumbles, pulling away from you.
Giggles leave your lips, finding yourself a blushing mess. He leans in to give you a quick kiss, a groan coming from him after.
“It's that great?” You ask with a laugh, your hand stroking his clothed pec.
“You have no idea,” he whispers before reattaching your lips.
A moan comes from you while sliding your other arm around his neck. You kiss him back with just as much passion, leaning on your toes to deepen it further.
Chan glides his hands down your waist, resting on the back of your thighs. “Jump for me,” he mutters, and you do as he says.
He holds you in his arms, pressing you against the wall behind you. Your ankles lock together, a little scared that he'll end up dropping you.
Pounding on the door snaps you from your little makeout session. Chan's lips find a place on your chest as Hyunjin calls from outside the closet.
“Time's up! Come on!” He laughs, pounding his fist against the wooden object again.
“Chan,” you giggle, tugging his head back by his hair. He groans, squeezing his eyes shut while keeping his plump lips parted. “We have to go.”
“Stay over?” He asks, gently setting you back onto your feet. “We can get breakfast in the morning.”
You bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling even more. This man… When he's like this, he's irresistible. You can't say no.
“I'll stay over on one condition,” you tell him, tapping the tip of his nose. He nods his head, motioning for you to continue. “When we get breakfast tomorrow, it's a date.”
Chan grins ear to ear, nodding his head vigorously. “Absolutely, deal. Seal it with a kiss,” he says before stealing one more kiss.
~
tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n
979 notes · View notes
saiidahyunie · 2 months
Text
ballroom extravaganza
minatozaki sana x f!reader || cont. of fake and true ! pt.3 here
synopsis: you scored the date with the girl from the bar, things are shaping up for the better (maybe/maybe not), and your cousin mina is starting to raise some suspicions.  
warnings: fluff ; smut!! ; sana giving/recieving ; reader recieving/giving ; fucking in the car/office/bedroom (freaky deaky) :D ; sana being needy ; sana praising ; cursing ; anything else i didn't let y'all know ; might be proofread
a/n: dang y'all really like sana don't ya? (bias wrecking me ill never recover) hope you guys enjoy this second part as much as the first one!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
you’re basically jumping out of your own skin when you hear the knock on your door, and twirl around to see the bedside clock. 
8:29 
a minute early. you’d be impressed to keep the hefty lunch in your stomach to not vomit it out. 
“coming!” you cry out, before taking a second to fuss with your current appearance. you played it simple, the flashiest part of the red dress that shuhua loaned you. like the black one, it’s slim-fitting and short, the neckline cutting above the swell of your breasts. your lips are a stained deep red, just to match. tzuyu always said to you that the color was striking for you to pull off. 
after straightening the dress, you step out of your room and walk towards the entryway of the door, taking a second to toe on your black pumps. and then, with a steady exhale, you open the door. 
sana stands on the other side of it, one hand in her pocket of your black slacks and the other carrying a bouquet of roses that she promptly shoves at your chest. you take them, cradling to your body, and look up to find her already gazing at you, eyes raking from the top of your head and down. again and again. 
“hey.” 
“hi.” you smile at her. “these are really beautiful, thank you.”
sana jerks her head in acknowledgement, and you can see the faintest flush of pink spreading to the tips of her ears. you bite your lip as you set the flowers down, staving off the rare urge to giggle. 
she’s still standing by the door, holding her arm out. “so are you ready to go?” 
you take it, curling a hand around her bicep, letting her lead you out. “please.”
“alright,” sana says, laying her menu flat on the table, staring at you with grave seriousness. “speak.” 
“huh?” you look away from the giant, crystal chandelier hanging above you two. the restaurant she’d take you to was only slightly less fancier than the one at the four seasons hotel. 
slightly. 
“i can tell you want to say something.” 
you smile nervously. “yeah, about your driving, maybe. i thought we were gonna—” 
“y/n.” she says firmly; it has the same affect as dumping a bucket of ice water over your head. “no bullshit. you might as well say what you wanna say.” 
“fine.” and this is easy to sink into, your mode of no-nonsense: the compartmentalization of what stresses you. “why did you give me the money?” 
“because i wanted to.” 
“i know, but why? did you feel bad for me?”
“a little.” 
you grit your teeth. “did you pity me?” 
“no.” 
“then what?” 
“i’ve been in your position before. kind of.” 
“what do you mean.” 
“struggling college student, a shitty job, caming from harebrained ways to get money. everyone who’s gone on the path to grad school, doesn’t matter if it’s med, law, blah blah blah whatever, knows how fucking hard it is to survive.” 
your cheeks flush from sana’s words, picking at the white table cloth. “so you empathized with me?” 
“basically.” sana says, sitting back in her chair, smiling at you. your eyes follow along the lazy draw of it. “i didn’t expect you to be so difficult about it.” 
“it’s not like it’s common to give strangers hundreds of dollars within an hour of meeting them. forgive me for being concerned.”
“do you still want to give the money back to me?” sana asks. 
“yes.” 
“okay. then let’s change the subject.” diverting to the basic cookie cutter icebreaker in existence. “what are you majoring in?” 
“sana—”
she reaches across the table and grabs your hand, squeezing it slightly. dazzling brown eyes swallow up your field of vision as she leans into you. “what are you majoring in?”
you bite your tongue. you don’t want to relent into sana’s charms; mina would have your head if she knew that sana was running away with it. but she’s making it so so easy, smiling when you answer, “i’m finishing up my bachelor’s in child education. aiming to get my masters in child’s psychology.”
“you like kids?” 
“yeah,” you reply, visibly softening to sana. “last summer i did my internship at a local kindergarten and i love it. kids are…easy in a way that people aren’t.” 
“what do you mean?”
“they don’t expect anything from you. not anything beyond food or water or playtime. you know, nothing super sophisticated or adult. and they’re easy to talk to. they don’t care what you say to them or if you don’t talk much in general. they’re not judgy and it’s nice.” you hit that right out of the ballpark, and sana stares with lips parted as the facts are laid out for you. 
“i’ve never thought about them that way,” she says, her hand shifting atop your own. her thumb skims across your knuckles. “it sounds nice.” 
your heart thrums like a hummingbird against the walls of your chest. every languid caress pulls a shiver from you. “you don’t like kids?” 
“i don’t dislike them. i’m neutral, i guess. i know i’d like to have my own.” sana replies. 
“do you have any siblings?” 
“nope. i’m an only child.”
“i would’ve never guessed,” you say dryly. 
“ha! has anyone told you you’re funny?” sana inquires, and you’re stifling a laugh while she’s smiling at you, gaze fond. “what about you?” 
“well, i’m an only child.” you reply. normally you’d leave it at this. you don’t really like the notion of getting into the nitty-gritty of your past, but sana’s presence robs any reticence from you. “my parents passed when i was younger so i was raised by my aunt and her cousin.” 
“oh.” sana slips her fingers into the spaces of your own and squeezes gently again. “i’m so sorry.” 
“it’s okay,” you say, smiling awkwardly. “it happened when i was little. i’m kind of accustomed to it now.” 
“can i ask you a question?” 
“a personal one?”
the corner of sana’s mouth quirks. you want to trace it with your fingers.
“if you were in that desperate of a situation, why didn’t you ask her for help?” 
“i can’t afford to take any money from my aunt or cousin. she can’t afford it.” 
“did you try asking?” 
“i’m not saying she would’ve said no. but if she tried, i wouldn’t have accepted it.” 
“sounds startlingly familiar.” 
you pull your hand from hers with a smile and an eye roll before picking up the menu in front of the table, raising it up high enough to cover sana’s face. 
“can we order something now?”
when you get back in the car, you’re warm, languid with a stomach full of risotto and red wine. sana’s hand rests on the gear shift between you, the other one on her wheel. you like watching the motion of them as she drive, like the curls of sana’s knuckles and the rasp her palm makes against the wheel when she turns it. you wish to feel the warmth of it against your leg. 
well, in a city like new york, it’s nothing more than unpleasant. 
“you know i wasn’t kidding when i told you that you’re a horrible driver.” 
“do you own a car, y/n?” 
 “i usually take the subway.” 
“okay. pro-tip if you ever do drive in these streets, better to be offensive than dead. or stuck in traffic for two hours. which, believe it or not, is fucking worse.” 
but despite sana’s words, she seems to listen to you. the drive stretches longer, and you lean into the plush leather seats as you stare out the window, dreading the sight of every familiar building, the street signs that you know lead to your apartment. for a moment, you debate asking to get ice cream, or go to the park, a movie theater–-anything and everything to extend this. you don’t want to leave the pleasant warmth of her car. 
“y/n?” 
you look over to see her smile. “i thought you were asleep.” 
“i’m not tired.”
she takes her hand off the gear shift, thumbs a lock of your hair without breaking your gaze. unwavering. 
“neither am i.” 
when she pulls into your squat, little apartment complex, you’re gripping the edge of your seat, nails squeaking against the buttery leather. she smoothly pulls into an empty space, parking backwards—what a show off—-before turning to you. with as huddled into the seat as you were, her hand is behind the headers, arm bracketing you, you feel consumed. surrounded by her scent, in her car, the engine humming beneath them, with her so close. you can’t breathe without inhaling her.
sana’s noticed it too. her eyes have gone dark, swallowed by her pupils. 
“i had fun,” she says. 
“me too.” 
her mouth twitches. “you gonna try giving me the money back now?” 
you jolt at the reminder, bending to snatch you purse, but sana’s hand flies from her headrest to your hand, hot over your knee.
“i was kidding. i don’t want it back. i don’t need it.”
“sana—” 
“y/n.” she interrupts firmly. “i don’t need it. and in my opinion, i think you can do a hell of a lot more.” 
your defenses waiver before they crumble completely, and you feel your chin wobble. to your horror. “you’re too nice to me.” 
she grabs it, pressing her thumb into the plush of your bottom lip. your stomach clenches as sana’s eyes flicker down, anticipation making your headlight. 
“i don’t think i’m nice enough,” she whispers, but it barely registers. you’re already reaching for her, mouth open to beg; hand on her wrist, and she meets you half-way, swallowing your muted please. 
sana’s kiss is desperate, intense like the rest of her. one hand buried in your hair while the other presses against your knee, a searing, overbearing heat that sinks into your insides, coiling tingly in the pit of your gut. despite your furious protestations to tzuyu, you haven’t felt this in a while, the wet-warmth of another mouth against your own, the life of someone else’s tongue, opening you up further. 
you press closer, so frantic you almost climb over the armrest, but sana pushes you back down to your seat. she breaks away from your mouth to kiss down the line of your throat, flicking her tongue out to taste your overheated skin, smiling when you sigh. your hips jerk beneath her hold when she sucks at your pulse point. 
she grins, teeth nipping at your jawline. “you like that, sweetie?” 
there’s a shock-wire running from the heat of her mouth to her clit. sana’s barely touched you and you’re already keyed-up, on the cusp of euphoria. if you touched yourself now, you’d be so far gone, but you’re not sure she’d let you.
sana returns to kissing your throat, pausing to suckle at it with teeth and tongue, laving it against your skin in soft, wet strokes. she uses the hand in your hair to tilt your neck towards her, directing you like a puppet on strings. her other hand roves up and down your exposed thigh in gentle motions, more exploratory than anything, as if she can’t keep from touching you. and the thought sends a jolt of electricity to pass through you, sparking between your legs. it makes your hips can’t, makes the desperate need for friction a burying, voracious thing, primed to consume you. 
when she kisses the swell of your bottom lip, it comes out of you in a breathless pant, nails biting the seat. “p-please touch me.” 
“where?” sana asks, thumbing the hem of your dress, close enough to be a physical pain. “where, baby? here?”
“n-no.” 
“then where, y/n?” your eyes are black, eager with predatory intent, and you hate how much you love it; the consuming weight of her attention, like she wants to eat you whole. 
without much coronation, you take sana’s hand and shove it between your thighs, spreading them wide. you’re initially afraid that she’ll keep teasing you, that she’s lost in the power trip, but she surprises you when she groans and kisses you roughly, fingers tracing up your slit. 
“so fucking wet you are,” sana raps when she breaks away, almost crazed. she dips her hand beneath the waistband of your panties, the sensation of her fingers against your sensitive skin sending your eyes rolling. your hips buck, demanding delicious friction, and she surges in, laughing into your mouth. 
“you can cum just like this, can’t you?” she asks, voice rumbling against your cheek. her thumb slides up and down the seam of your cunt, the heel of her palm adding the barest pressure to your clit, but it’s good. the mere taste of it almost enough to send you over the edge, just for the sweet torture. 
her knuckles pull against the gusset of your panties as two of her fingers center over your clit. her pace at first is light, slow, exploratory like the way it’d been on your leg. her eyes on your face are focused. she wants to know what’ll take you to the edge, and you know it isn’t this. so you grab sana’s wrist and raise your hips to force pressure. 
“faster,” you pant, liquid gaze cutting to her. “h-harder. i like it–” 
she steals the words from you, kissing again with a mouth full of bite. the motions of sana’s fingers quicken, slide down to the tease of your e trance while you grind frantically into her palm. you’re so wet you easily accept the glide of her first finger, and when she pushes in the second, the stretch is sweet, a welcome thing. you thrust onto them, wishing vainly that she’d toss you into the backseat and fuck you with something more.
the thought makes you clench around her, and she curses loudly, burying her face into your sweaty neck. 
“are you always this depsrate when you’re getting fucked?” sana hisses, thrusting her fingers into you harder, without relent. “you always feel this good?” 
you choke out a sob, feeling the familiar swoop in your belly, the swelling tide that welcomed euphoria. as you clutch her wrist, chasing it, sana rests her head atop your shoulder, her voice going soft, reverent. 
“you’re so good, y/n,” she says in a frantic stream, mad with want. “so good. so, so fucking good. my perfect girl.” 
you keen when it washes over you, that white-hot heat that robs you of sense. you shudder beneath sana’s grip, clutching her wrist as you ride it out. she helps you come down from it, kissing you languidly and keeping her pace inside you slow. when you can breathe again, she pulls them out of you. you flush hotly when she sticks her fingers in her mouth, but the embarrassment doesn’t linger long. you surge toward her, hands flying towards the button of her pants. meets her in another frantic kiss.
“i wanna make you feel good now,” you whisper, palming her. “i want—”
sana uses her hand in your hair to bind you up against her and kisses you again, long and full enough to make the words melt from your tongue. you’re hazy when she pulls away, pliant. 
“i think,” she says. “that there’s always next time.” 
“next time?”
“next time,” sana repeats, rubbing your cheek with her thumb. “it’s late anyway. you should go to bed.” 
“oh,” you say blankly. “okay.”
sana kisses you again, twice on your nose, before leaning over to open your door. you stumble out of her car, binding your purse tight against your chest. you wave at her from the entrance of her building before you step inside, and see the shadow of sana’s hand as she waves back, driving off. when she turns onto the street, you rush inside, a hot, sharp balloon swelling in your chest. 
your hands shake when you slot the key into your door and turn the knob, switching on the lights. you kick your shoes off and toss the purse onto the couch, moving on muscle memory. you can’t think beyond the warm, floaty haze that’s clouded your mind, and when you shut the door behind you, you laugh. 
over and over. carelessly. all the while remembering the firm grip of sana’s hand and the scent of her, clogging your nose even now, a smell you want to bottle up and keep. 
next time, you think, giddy, nearly dancing in the small space. she said there’d be a next time. 
just then, you hear the high trill of your phone and dart to the couch, yanking open your purse to fish it out. you flush a pink when you notice the notification next to sana’s name– a text that reads, goodnight- and as you go to type your response, another notification pops up. one from venmo. 
a cold spike of adrenaline shoots through you when the app opens, fingers trembling. you almost drop your phone entirely at the number attached: $1,000 dollars. 
“for school,” it reads. 
your breath quickens. the hot balloon in your chest expands and expands until it pops, a physical pain against your ribcage.
i thought— your eyes burn. the realization sinks into your like molasses. i thought she—
the night you met sana, she expressed concern when she learned why you were there. she’d condemned jihyo and implied that you deserved something more, something better. she’d left you money as a gift, to be kind. 
a gift, sana told you. you don’t owe me anything. 
so why is it, then, that you have the distinct impression that jihyo had been simply outbid. 
you’re thinking about next time. sana said that there’d be a next time. 
that next time would come, then twice.
then a third.
and after.
the day after that, and the day even after that. 
the room is reverberating the echoes around you, loud with the sounds of heavy pants and wet slaps of skin. you’re clinging to the sheets beneath you, pushing yourself up, moving your hips to meet the frantic pace of sana's fingers curled up inside you. sana then buries a hand into your hair and hitches you up for a kiss that never takes. it’s broken quickly, leaves both of your swollen mouths parted and breathing of each other’s oxygen. you’re relishing the intimacy of the moment. 
when the building pressure at the base of your stomach grows to become too overwhelming, you fall back on the mattress, unmoored without sana’s presence, but she follows you as she always does. she’s binding her arm around your waist and raises you up, hand cupping your cunt while she’s all over your neck again. 
“c’mon,” sana says, voice wrecked, torn from her. “c’mon, honey, one more.” 
you gave sana the opportunity to sit on her face earlier, brown eyes flashing dark and predatory at you while you grind all over her mouth. the hot curl of her tongue relentless against you, reducing you to a living nerve ending. sana wrung out two splintering orgasms out of you, flipping you on your back before you could even recover. you loved it, and you still do, seeing all the ways that you can challenge sana. 
her slender fingers dip down to your clit again and causes you to moan loudly, rocking into her as she circles it firmly: rough, fast motions that she’s learned that you love. to bring you back to that edge quick. 
sana kisses you again, her other hand slipping to your breast above and squeezing. she’s groaning into your core, it’s making you fall deeper into the madness of your situation. 
“you’re so—” she barely mumbles out, her hand on your breast slides down to clamp the divot in your hips. sliding the pillow under the arch of your back in one seamless motion. she’s too good with her hands. “fucking unreal, and perfect.” 
her mouth against your other mouth starts the chain reaction. you’re moaning out more strain behind it. a star-burst of affection igniting in your chest. sana continues to swipe her tongue, the unyielding pressure that makes your vision swimmy, and you let go. 
you’re sobbing out while your hands are trying to find what’s left of the comforter as ecstasy steals over you. sana continues to drive her fingers and tongue into you, letting you feel it: in the air, at the base of your throat, between the rapid, uneven pacing of thrusts from her fingers. when you’re all tuckered out, the clenching fading out from your cunt, soaked with slick while it gets on different parts of your skin; from the leg, to one of your obliques, to the small peak of your boob. 
“o-okay, that’s e-enough.” 
“you taste so fucking good,” sana murmurs, mouth hot against the column of your neck. her hands trailing up and down your stomach. “when you clench around my fingers is just—” 
fucking shit this woman. “sana, please.” 
she sits up with a chuckle, and you’re at the same level too, instantly resting your head on her shoulder, kissing it. sana wraps her arm around your waist, kissing the top of your head, her fingers are tapping away at the v-line. you look up and she kisses you, grinning with delight. 
“will you stay over?” you ask, too plaintive when she pulls away. sana’s smile falters and you feeling the realization, disappointment inbound. 
“i can’t.” a spike lances through you. “my department has a meeting early in the morning. i can’t skip.” 
“oh.” you hate yourself for being upset—she’s a doctor, of course she’s busy—but the feeling rises up anyway, along with the insidious notion that she’s gotten what she wanted and so has little use for you now. without thinking, you start to drift away from sana in slow little increments that she catches, and she pulls you up tight against her, pressing her lips to your hairline. 
“i wish i could say,” sana whispers. “if it were up to me, i’d be here with you everyday.” 
the words are cruel, considering what they are–what you are—but the pain is stamped down. masking it with teasing. “how would you work then?” 
“i’m sure my supervisor could find someone else to fill my place. someone as equally ecstatic to dig their hands into some guy’s intestines.”
“you’re so…casual when you talk about your job.” you say out of respite. 
“are you worried?” sana asks. 
“no.” answering while tracing fingers across sana’s chest, over her still-racing heart, before tapping her chin. “but it makes me wonder if i should be.” 
“is the child psychology major going to psychoanalzye me right now? when i’m twenty-nine years old nearing thirty?” 
“you know the issues of childhood can be far-reaching. you never stop feeling the effects of it.” 
“incredible.” you laugh when sana dips her head and takes your finger in her mouth, biting it gently. “but i’ve always been this way.” 
“which is?” 
a half-feral grin spreads across sana’s face before she abruptly flips you over. you yelp into her mouth as she kisses you, long and slow, and settles over you. she breaks away, still grinning. “crazy about you.” 
you’re flushing hotly, which makes her bark out a delighted laugh, and sana kisses you again. over and over and over. her lips trail from your fluttering eyelids to the tip of your nose to your chin, every nook and cranny of your face that she can reach. when her lips meet yours again, you can taste the sugar on her tongue.
“god, i wish i could stay,” sana rasps, breaking away, and you cling onto her. 
“then stay.” 
“if i did, i’d have to leave at 5 to get ready at my apartment in order to be at the hospital on time. also you have an early class tomorrow. chances are i’d wake you up and you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep.” 
your jaw tightens, and teeth catch your tongue. you don’t want to accuse sana of making excuses, because you know she’s right; it’s happened before. and that’s what burns you, the idea that your angst could have no standing. the operating off of your injured feelings and nothing substantial. this is transnational after all. 
“okay.” you say, coolly. “guess this is goodbye then.” 
“bye y/n.” sana says, kissing your mouth. “goodnight.” 
sana kisses you several times, smothering you in affection. she only stops after you simple, nipping at your nose once before rising off the bed. you watch as sana peels away off the bed, walking around your room, picking up her clothes from the floor and pulling them on. when she’s done, she strides over to you and slides a nick of your hair back, kissing your forehead. 
“i’ll call you tomorrow, sweetheart.” 
“okay.” 
sana ducks down, skating her nose along the edge of your hairline, keeping her mouth close to your ear. “i’ll see you later.” 
you move your head and catch sana’s lips. against them, whispering. “mn, see you later.” 
you notice with some satisfaction that sana’s eyes are fevered as she pulls away, dark with wanting, and you shove your face back into the pillow, clinging to it. sana mutters a soft curse and makes her way to the door, only to immediately jam the knob when she goes to close it. she mutters a curse again, much louder. 
“just give it a little wiggle,” you say, sitting up. “it gets a little tight sometimes when you twist it.” 
“how long has it been like this?” 
“since i got the apartment.” 
“what the fuck?!” sana exclaims. “did anything else come broken?”
“sometimes the water pressure in my shower is really low.” 
“jesus christ, y/n.” sana says again, louder, angrier. “why haven't you told your landlord?” 
“trust me, i have.” you say shrugging your shoulders. “if i said anything more than that he’d just shut off the water entirely.” 
sana sounds pressed, jiggling the knob harder. “i’ll kill him then.” 
“it’s really not that ba—” 
“i’m coming back next week with a repairman,” sana interjects, tone brokering no argument. “i can fix the doorknob myself but i’ll get a plumber for the shower.” 
you duck your head, embarrassed. “you really don’t have to do that, sana.”
“i want to,” she replies, eyes softening when she looks at you. “i don’t want you living in some shit-hole with no running water.”
“i have running water.” 
“we’ll see what the plumber says.” and with that, sana gives up on fixing the jam and breezes past the doorway. a few seconds later, you can hear sana at the front door shut behind her. with a deep sigh, you fall back into the bed and reach for your pillow, thick with her scent, and curls around it to fall asleep. 
in the morning, you wake up to a ten dollar venmo notification for coffee and the contact information of the plumber sana mentioned. 
“why haven’t you got my calls or texts?” is the first question that mina asks when you answer the phone. you stifle a laugh. 
“well, good to hear your voice mina.”
“you haven’t called me,” she says again. “is everything okay?” 
you sigh and sink into your loveseat, socks skipping over the fractured leather. your fingers cradle the coffee mug. “nothing’s wrong.” you say. “i’ve been really busy.” 
“with what?” 
“school,” is what you reply with. “not sure if you’ve kept up, but i’m in my last year now. i’ve been getting most of the important work done as much as i can.” a second passes before you add, “and communication is a two-way street. you haven’t been calling me either.” 
“busy with work.” is what mina says in defense. 
“see?” you quirk, a sip of coffee passing through your mouth, tapping your fingers on your knee, waiting for mina to speak. neither of you are particularly verbose, so the shared calls usually play out like this: tense silence, quick updates, the voids that harbored resentment. but you’ve grown far from the desire of mina to be soft for you (she has, doesn’t want to admit it) and you’re just accustomed to the dispassion. 
for the final question on the script: “do you need any money from me?” 
“no, mina. i don’t need money from you or auntie.” 
“i assume the tips are good at your job then?” 
“even better.” 
she hums, like this was real answer, saying, “if you ever need anything, call me.” 
“you know it when i do.” 
“okay then.” 
mina hangs up with a click before the goodbye is even truly articulated on the tongue. 
your ears perk up when a knock is heard on the door, moving from your kitchen to walk to the entrance. curious, you open it, only to be swept up into sana’s arms before you can even say hello. she kicks it shut behind her and pins you to the old wood, lips roving over your face. 
“what—” she kisses your mouth twice in quick succession. “—are you doing here?”
“left the hospital for my lunch break,” sana breathes, hitching you up so that a leg is wrapped around her waist. she dips to suck your collarbone, mouth curling when she hears you mewl. “decided to come here.” 
“d-did you eat?” 
“no.” 
sana’s hand slides up from the curve of your ass to your breast, squeezing gently. you moan softly, head thumping against the wood. “you—you should.” 
she separates from your throat to shoot a sly grin. “i’d rather eat you out first.” 
mindless, spurred by sana’s passion, you surge down to kiss her. tightening your legs around her, thighs squeezing as sana’s hand cups your clit. with every pass of the hand, you can feel the shift of your underwear, panties clinging. 
sana buries her hand into your hair, yanking back to expose your throat. she ducks her head to you for another kiss, trailing her lips up and down the line, tongue darting out to taste. her other hand dips down to your ass to bind you up against her, rolling until your toes curl. you sigh and slide your hand into sana’s hair. it would be so easy to just cum from this, but you’d rather put sana’s mouth somewhere else. 
you pull her up by her hair, stomach clenching at the naked want on sana’s face. her eyes, half-lidded and hazy, are trained on your open mouth. when you lick them, her thumb catches your bottom lip. 
“please,” you gasp, moving against sana’s hips. arching. “we need to go to my—” 
sana grins, almost madly, and kisses you hard enough to steal your breath. “what? you’re afraid your neighbors might hear me fuck you again?” 
you blush hotly and sana laughs, but ultimately decides to appease you, heaving you off the wall. she seeks out your lips again and stumbles into the room. impatient, sana kicks open the door, heedless when it slams loudly into the wall. 
you hardly notice also, giddy when sana pushes you onto the bed. it’s a race to get clothes off, pairs of hands fulmbling with the zippers and buttons until sana bats her pants away, you yanking your sweatpants off, meeting for another kiss as she lowers herself over you. you moan loudly when her fingers tease the opening between your legs, feeling the wetness in an instant. 
“my god,” you sigh out, clinging to sana, blood burning beneath your skin; every movement a siren call to your own pleasure. “please, just—just touch me, sana.” 
sana grins rakishly, eyes glittering with mirth. ever the eager observer to your own demise. 
“you’re always so polite, sweetheart.” sana says, and moves down to kiss you. you yourself arch to meet her, pulse skittering at her proximity, at the heady invertibility of mindless pleasure, and—
the lights go out. 
sana stills above you. at first, you’re surprised, waiting for them to flicker back on. this happens sometimes. i mean—the building is old as in 1920s red stone–faulty wiring and out-dated, but nothing comes to fruition. 
“fuck,” you spitt, arousal plummeting to now nothing. you move from under sana. “fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—” 
“what’s wrong?” sana asks. you rise from the bed and she follows you to the kitchen. you snatch a pile of envelopes from your counter to dig through them, only to stop when you notice that the lighting outside is too dim to see. you sigh heavily, marching over to your couch to read by the flickering candles. sana sits down beside you, eyeing cautiously. “what’s wrong?” 
“the light bill,” you croak. “the rental agency upped the price recently but i must’ve paid the old amount without ven thinking. god, how could i be so stupid?!” 
“you’re not stupid. don’t talk like that,” sana snaps. she then takes a deep breath, voice much calmer when she adds, “and this is an easy fix. if you pay it now, it’ll be back on in a few hours. this shit happens, y/n.” 
“but i don’t–” have the money. you clench your jaw tight, forcing the words down, but sana can see the pain on your face, can hear it lingering in the air, unsaid. 
“i’ll help you—” you shake your head; you don’t like this, the reminder—” let me help you.” 
“no, sana.” 
“it’s not a big deal. i want to.” 
“i can’t ask you to—”
sana suddenly shifts closer and grabs your face, cupping it between her palms. she looks int your eyes, gaze probing.
“let me,’ she cajoles. “you don’t have to bear the burden of this all on your own. if i’m offering to help you, let me help you.” 
your heart swells. with relief. with dismay. “okay.” 
she pecks your lips before standing up, thumb trailing down your cheek. “where’s your laptop? if your account is set up online, i can pay it now. i still have about forty-five minutes until i have to get back so i can wait with you until then.” 
“it’s on my desk.” 
sana nods once, turning on her heel to march into your room. the second she’s out of sight, you bury your face into her hands, burning with shame. 
right after class ends, your phone vibrates. 
you pick it out of your pocket, thumb grayling over your cracked screen to see sana’s contact photo flashing up at you; it was the one taken three weeks ago, with her smiling while you pressed a kiss to her cheek. you’re clicking the green button. 
“hello?” 
“i just realized you’ve never been to my apartment,” sana says, surprising you. “we’ve been together for almost two months and you’ve never seen my house.” 
“oh.” your cheeks flush, pulse skipping at together. “you’ve never really brought it up before.”
“like a fucking idiot. do you wanna come over?” 
your body warms in a near–sudden response, to your eternal horror, and with a bite of your lip. “sure.” 
“cool! i’ll pick you up right now.” 
“you're not working today?” 
“no. i worked eighty hours last week so they gave me a day off. i’m on call, though, which is shitty anyway.” 
“i’m sorry.” 
“it’s fine,” sana dismisses. “so you’re still on campus?” 
“yeah. i just got out of class.” 
“alright, i’ll be there in twenty.” 
“okay. bye.” 
“bye.” sana says, but lingers on the line. for a moment, you think she’s forgotten to hang up, and moves to do it for her until she adds, softly, cutely you might think. 
“i’m excited to see you.” 
your heart thuds, and she hangs up before you can even say something back. 
for twenty minutes, you wait near the entrance of the school, fiddling with your phone until sana texts you to come meet her. finding the car quickly, walking towards the sleek, gray two–seater of her vintage mercedes, and opens the door to see sana grinning at you. a pair of dark sunglasses sit on the bridge of her nose. 
“hi,” sana smiles. 
“hi.” you say back, hating at how shy you still get around her, considering. sana, though, always appears to take a bit of pride to it. 
she chuckles, leaning back in her seat and shifting the car into drive, pulling into the main road. you settle in to watch the hypnotic motion of her hands as she turns the wheel—it almost makes you nostalgic for some reason. 
“so,” sana says, turning onto the street. “how was class?” 
“fine. just sat through a lecture.” 
“about?”  
“well, just the study of psychosocial development of erickson. how the different stages can be embedded by sociological challenges. you don’t want to hear the rest from me.” 
“ah.” you suck a smile in; seeing the cogs in sana’s brain turning. “sounds interesting.” 
“it’s a lot to cover. my professor was telling us about how some guest speaker that’s gonna be presenting next month. apparently she specializes in existential psychotherapy so i’m thinking of seeing that when it comes.” 
“that’s really cool. do you know the name?” 
“no.” you appreciate the effort that sana is showing. elizabeth, as wonderful and cool she was, tended to block you out sometimes: on the occasion she ever needed to. “what about you? how was work?” 
sana groans. “terrible. a guy was rolled in with a bullet wound and was hemorrhaging like crazy. i was able to stop the bleeding and get the bullet out, but the anesthesiologist almost od’d him and killed him. idiot.” 
“wow,” you say. “is he okay now?”
“yeah. but i’m never having that dumbass with me at the table again.” 
“you might have to, though. you’re a new doctor, sana, i don’t know if you have the luxury of writing off your co-workers.” 
sana smirks. “i might.” 
flicking the blinkers on, she turns on the road that leads them deeper into the upper west side. sana drives into a small parking lot behind a tall building before pulling into a space. once the car shifts into park and the keys are yanked out, you step out, mouth parting as you take in the veritable skyscraper in front of you. 
“you live here?!” 
“yeah,” sana says, taking your hand. seeing the stupefied expression, grinning and leading you inside. a red-headed doorman greets sana as you make your way across the lobby. the elevator didn’t even feel like an elevator and once you got past sana’s front door, you’re in full flabbergasted mode—eyes open like saucers. sana smiles at your gasp but when her eyes flicker to you they narrow. 
“i thought it would be a penthouse of sorts.” 
“trust me, it is but at the same time it isn’t.” 
sana’s apartment may not be as lux as you initially thought, but it’s still nice regardless. you can tell that it was costly, dark furniture andwide, open spaces and tall windows. the walls are painted with a light grey. a flat-screen plasma tv hangs in her living room, mounted over a fireplace. the black velvet leather couch is in front of it, clearly brand new. 
her voice echoes the walls. echoes. you’re left marveling. “are you hungry?” sana asks from the dining area, “i have some food from the other day.” 
“what do you got?” 
“some leftovers from this dimsum place, pretty good actually.” 
you giggle. “i thought you would have a much more sophisticated diet to fall back on.” meeting her at the kitchen island while she opens the box of food, tossing a bite into her mouth while you’re scanning through the dumplings. 
“this is delicous.” you say in between bites, sana leaning over pressing a kiss to your temple. “you’re not eating as much, not enough craving?” 
“i had some food earlier.”
“how earlier are we talking?” 
“before i scooped you up.” 
you hum while she feeds you another bite of the warm dumpling that melts so tenderly into your mouth. 
the relaxing downtime with sana felt like a completely different world in her house. you got to know sana’s rough run down backstory of how she got to some form of power when it comes to dealing with which practitioner helps with her or not. being well-connected in her line of work was something to be fortunate with, but sana doesn’t like the idea of wealth being wrapped around her. sure, her clothes may be nice, demeanor brash and language abrasive at times, but she sees the world in a more different light compared to tzuyu and elizabeth on the topic of privilege. 
as for how she got into her career of being a surgeon, she signed up for dual-enrollment in the last two years of her high school to graduate early. the calling of med school already being long in terms of time, so the sooner she could get out, the better. 
“i like that,” you say. “i like how your mind works. i like—”
you. you almost say it. and it aches to not project it, the sudden sting of yearning. you, you, i really like you.
but catching yourself tripping up was something more of a simple defensive mechanism. “the story,” you finish. “pretty funny.” 
“i have better ones.” sana says, grin lighting up her face, more radiant than sunlight. and her obliviousness burns twice as hot. “do you wanna hear about the time my friend bang chan and his best friend felix got mutual restraining orders back in college?” 
you’ve read the name of tobio kageyama for probably the thirtieth time in two manga volumes before your mind decided to call for a needed break. 
sitting upright from the couch, stretching and popping joints across the body. a look at the clock shows that it’s a little past eight, realizing that you’ve studied for roughly about two to three hours. too bad you didn’t notice it before because your brain is already bugging and battered into mush. 
so you head to the kitchen, glass cup filled before drinking it once or twice before noticing that sana hasn’t drank any water since she took up a fortress in her office two hours ago, claiming that she had a work call. you fill another glass again, dropping a few ice cubes, before making your way towards her office door–knocking once, “hey, you busy?” 
sana’s voice sounds muffled, weary. “no, come in.” 
entering the room, hesitant like you were intruding on some sacred space. like the rest of her house, sana’s office was nice, richly-furnished. she has a tall, wooden desk in front of her, several files and stacks of paper placed on top. there’s a bookshelf behind in the corner, thick tomes marked by names that you don’t even want to try to read or recognize. the walls are also painted in a dark gray, and there’s a leather couch off to the left side with a blanket placed over it. even sana needs to have her naps sometimes. 
sana then calls for your attention, glasses perched on the bridge of her perfect nose. “did you need something?” 
“no,” you say, inching closer. raising the glass, “i just wanted to get you some water.” 
she smiles in thanks, taking it from you while she approaches with an outreaching hand, grabbing the glass downing it in one gulp. frowning with a mild concern once she gave you back the glass, “were you thirsty?” 
“a bit. i didn’t feel it until now.” 
“are you hungry?” 
“not right now. i’ll eat when im finished with this.” 
“you should take a break,” you say, stepping towards sana. you lean back with your butt to the edge of her desk, half sitting. up close, you can see sana’s stress more evidently, eyes low with exhaustion. “sit on the couch with me. we can watch something together.” 
“i can’t do that, y/n.” 
“why not?” would a short film be better?” 
“i have paperwork. a lot of paperwork. not to mention forms, test results, patient files. i want to try to get through them by tonight.” 
“and you will,” you reply softly, stepping between her legs, resting your hands on her shoulders. “just ten or fifteen minutes of your time, please.” 
“no way we’re watching a movie in ten minutes.” 
“not the movie, you idiot. i was gonna say food instead, you should eat.” 
“‘m not hungry.” 
“not even a snack?” 
sana lets out a smile, placing her hands on your hips. “i appreciate you for being concerned, baby, but i’ll be done soon. i promise. then we can go get something to eat together.” 
looking down at the ground, hands still on shoulder. you’re smoothening the crinkles of sana’s large shirt, fingers brushing up from her neck up to her hair. you lean down and kiss sana fully on the lips, slowly, once, twice, a few times, and rest your knee on her chair between her legs. you break away a bit to pepper languid kisses across the slope of her jaw. 
“relax,” you croon. “take a break with me.” 
sana sinks into you, sighing like she’s expelling a pressure from deep within her chest. her eyes flutter closed, hands twitching around your waist, and when you dip down to kiss her throat, you feel the flushing heat rising from her body.
desire races to the forefront like a freight train, bowling over you with its inteistiey, and you’re running a hand up her thigh towards the center. sana gasps sharply into your parted mouth, fingers clutching around your waist. you’re nearly smiling. 
“you’ve eaten me out before,” you whisper. “but you’ve never let me do the same for you.” 
sana laughs but it’s off, brimming with echoes of a dark promise. “i find it more enjoyable when i eat up your pussy then have you eat mine. better for me to see you cry the way i want you to.” 
there’s a thrill pulsing through your body, throbbing dully in your cunt. you’re ducking down to kiss her again, practically panging into sana’s open mouth as you palm her through her pants. her face is screwed up with a tight coil of pleasure, eyes shut. her fingers dig into the leather armrests at her side. 
“let me,” you whisper again, almost begging. “i want to.” 
sana’s eyes crack open, solely, regarding you as though you were something to be consumed. i want to, you think with a sort of nameless, desperate sense of urgency. i want you to. 
she nods, and you kneel at her feet. 
you’re kissing through her jeans first, soft, affectionate little pecks that make sana groan, fingers sliding up her legs again. you help sana clumsily unbutton her pants, shucking it down and off her thighs. the panties are quick to follow, only first with a trail of your lips over the black-laced fabric, soaked with her wetness that fills up your nose. sana is wrecked with the effect you have on her, just some light kisses and heavy petting, making your cunt fucking clench; you don’t think you’ve ever met anyone who’s wanted you even half as much. 
when sana’s panties are gone left with her shirt; the scent is intoxicating. her folds are glistening. she sighs of pure bliss when you lick up her slit, mouth lingering on her clit. her hips twitch from the initial contact. you stifle a smile when you shower a few more kisses, and she groans loudly when you part her legs, squeezing her inner thighs tightly the more you shove your face into her cunt. 
you’ve eaten out girls before, but sana was more of an anomaly. to play it safe, you experiment, trying to see what she likes best. licking at her, teasing her walls with a finger, leaving teased kisses to the area outside of her pussy. sana can’t contain herself when she pulls your head back in with her hand, moaning into her core, the vibrations too overwhelming coming from your mouth to her legs. 
“fuck,” sana moans. “fuck, y/n–baby, fuck. i’m gonna—” 
nodding at her, you don’t let up the pace of tearing up her cunt. fingers in walls and grunting into her. she doesn’t even let you breathe. the heels of her feet on your shoulders as her hands are on the back of your head, nails scratching the scalp the more you’re lapping her up. only then you pull away as she coos out locking eyes with you, the sight of licking your mouth lean with your tongue from her slick almost makes her lose it from the seat. 
“i’m gonna ruin you,” sana promises, snarling, gaze devouring, mad with want. it sends a deep vibration into your cunt while she looks up to the ceiling. “you won’t be able to walk.” 
you could’ve just came right then and there, vision whiting out at the edges. somehow you kept your sanity in check, ducking your head for more fully. humming and sliding your tongue over her cunt, nibbling on her clit and with a sudden jerk followed by a sharp groan, she cums. 
a whole assortment of papers, files, pens, and pencils are scattered to the floor as sana digs her hand beneath your shirt and rips it off of you. your lips meet hers for another frantic kiss, laying back as she’s settling over you. 
she shoves your sweats down along with your panties, letting them dangle from your feet. sana then moves back to your chest, hands moving like a firebrand, searing your skin with every touch. desperate to feel more of it, you sit up slightly and unclasp your bra. the second you’ve tossed it, sana’s hands are quick to palm, mouth hot against your own as she swallows your keening sigh. 
“you have the most perfect tits in the world,” sana breathes, thumbs circling your nipples, forefingers roving down to pinch. the sweet pleasure-pain sparks a heavy throb in your core, and she arches into you, spreading your legs wide. you moan when sana’s mouth is around your breast, the other hand folding you. 
“god, sana, please,” you beg, clinging to her. your hips are twitching, the emptiness inside you turning into a physical ache. 
“what is it, baby?” sana switches over to your other mound, tongue laving over your nipple. your eyes fluttering, mind spinning at the sight. “what?” 
moaning helplessly, and her hand slides down to your cunt, thumb sliding up the wet gusset of your panties to find your clit. when she presses down, your hips jerk forward, shrieking. she’s laughing around your boob. 
“yeah, there we go,” sana sighs out, rubbing at you languidly, moving slow with the roll of her hips. “that feels good, doesn’t it?” 
“ye—ah—yes, yes it feels good.” 
“i know.” sana kisses up to your throat, sucking the soft spot beneath your jaw, lips deceptively sweet. “but you want more, don’t you.” 
more. 
your stomach seizes at the thought of it, the promise. you grasp at her wrist and sana hisses, dipping her hand beneath underneath your underwear to slide a finger inside you. keening when she adds another digit, stretching you open—another sounds leaves your mouth and sana laughs when you’re clamping around her fingers.
“you feel so good like this, y/n. so good.” she watches as she fucks her fingers in and out of you, transfixed by the sight. almost resentful of her own body. “i wish i could live in you. i wish—” 
“you could,” somehow croaking that out when she has four fingers inside. “i’d let you.” 
sana lets her intrusive thoughts get the better of her, growling while she surges down your body. your panties are up in the air as she raises a leg up, thumb petting your clit. you’re rearing up with a shout, a splintering sound, bursting, but sana doesn’t give you any breathing room. next thing you know, she has the flat plane of her tongue swiping upward that pushes your undoing even faster. 
it’s good enough to cry, you can feel the salt on your tongue when sana leans up again for another kiss before trailing down to your pussy. there’s a malformation with how the kisses are sloppier on your lips above and below, but the pleasure is good. she makes you feel like euphoria is an ever-present force that is kept within you, and it’s much deeper than the sex. the sprawling root of it is happiness, and sana. 
“c’mon, y/n, my lovely girl,” sana says tightly, jaw clenching when she breathes over your clit. her eyes hazy like she might be the one to cum again. “give me another.” 
you wrap your legs around her, canting up so that her mouth and tongue go deeper, and you both moan from it. sana’s finger finds your clit again, so wet the sound is purely obscene, but it only strokes the fire of your pleasure, makes it build higher and higher. 
“that’s it. there we go. t-there—” 
sana stops short. a bitten-off cry, and she doubles down on your clit. her fingers clench around your walls, and there’s a gentle wave—mouth parted to sigh. 
she stays for a second, pulling her hand out examining the slimy fluid between the fingers, licking them seductively that makes you roll your eyes and look away. sana just laughs at you, “fuck you, for making me like this.” 
your head hits the desk, “not sorry. i like it when you’re needy for me.” 
she huffs out, “little minx. when i’m done with you—” 
“what? i won’t be able to walk?” 
sana’s face falls flat, but her eyes spark with lurid determination as she leans in and whispers, “everything i’ve gotten in life, i’ve had solely because i wanted it badly enough. you think that doesn’t apply to the things i wanna do to you?” 
your heart hammers like a jack-rabbit. red-hot heat slowly consumes your face. “i—”
she moves off of you but keeps her arms bracketing your hips. “we’re moving to my room,” she interjects. “i need a bed if i want you to sit on my face.” 
eyes were wide open while you managed to slip out of sana’s hold, scurrying to the bedroom down the hallway. sana’s signature laugh echoes as she chases you down behind. 
it’s a bit chilly outside when mina calls you, the autumn weather creeping beneath your new coat to settle into your bones. hitching the collar up your neck for cover, and the phone is out from your pocket to see your cousin’s name. you’re repressing a sigh, picking up, 
“hey.” 
“yo.” mina has many greetings. “where are you right now?” 
“i got out of class, walking to the subway.” 
“are you by yourself?” 
“yes,” you say. “obviously. why wouldn’t i be?” 
“you usually have that slightly taller girl tagging along with you. the one with the model face.” 
“tzuyu.” you correct sharply. “and you’re not wrong, but she has her own life. you know? a girlfriend?” 
“and you? you got anyone?” 
frozen, stumbling in your tracks. mina could be asking for curiosity, but you know your cousin too well; she’s not the kind to be asking unnecessary questions. 
“no, i don’t,” you answer cautiously. 
“are you sure?” 
“why even bother asking me?” you retort, voice clipped. “even if i was seeing someone. i’d mention it right away, even with thanksgiving around the corner.” 
“i don’t see what thanksgiving has anything to do with it.”
“most normal people introduce their partners to family, mina. not everything personal is some dirty little secret.” 
“don’t you dare try to get snippy with me. i was just asking a question, not cuffing you to a table for an interrogation. chillax.” 
you’re cringing with knitted brows, stepping down the stairwell into the subway station. it’s a lot warmer, “whatever. i just wanted to know why you were asking.” 
“i was asking because you haven’t been calling me lately. i figured that someone else was taking up all of your time besides auntie.” 
your jaw tenses. there’s this wave of guilt that makes your clinch your lip, voice much gentler when you follow up, “i’ve just been busy, mina. you know that.” 
“yeah?” the customary ten seconds of loaded silence pass before mina adds, “speaking of busy, don’t come down for thanksgiving this year. i’m gonna be busy with work.” 
work. the nameless occupation mina had never bothered explaining to you, not since you were in your teens. you’ve had your own suspicions and theories, but you never even had the frame of mind to confirm them yourself. 
even with the disappointment; it’s actually comforting in a weird sense. “that’s fine. i have finals to get ready for anyway.” 
“you’re not upset by this?” 
“no.” 
“and you’re not lying to me about anything, right?” 
“no, mina.” you say, smiling ruefully. “why would i? when have either of us ever lied each other about anything?” 
good as dammed, but there’s no care for it. i wouldn’t even matter anyway. it comes as a concern for how little tinges of that feeling is there still. 
mina sighs out. “talk to you later then, if you do call me.” 
you hang up after. the lasting thought of mina doesn’t even come afterwards. 
not even more than two steps into the entrance hallway when the doorbell calls you. 
you’re freezing, eating away at the fragile patience, but when you look through the peephole. you don’t think twice about opening the door. “tzuyu?” 
she’s standing across from you, arms folded, foot tapping, and pouting. “you’ve been neglecting me.” she accrues.
“huh?” you ask stupidly while blinking in a fast state.
tzuyu rolls her eyes and breezes past you, chilling air carrying the rich scent of yves saint-laurent. you follow her into the living rom, watching her shuck off her louis vutton jacket and tosses it onto the seat. 
“well?” she demands, whirling around to face you. “tell me what did she do to you?” 
“what?” 
“your little sugar mommy-doctor-girlfriend.” 
“tzuyu–” 
“whatever she did, she’s good enough to keep you from calling or texting your best friend for a week.” 
“what?” you’re gasping out again. “a week? i haven’t…” 
with a rush of the phone, you’re pulling up messages only to notice that you have, in fact, been ignoring tzuyu’s texts for the better part of a week. all of your besties messages. the only person you’ve kept consistent contact with is sana, and the last text you sent her was–
well—best to the imagination. 
“i’m so sorry,” you breathe out, throwing your phone off to approach tzuyu, taking her mittened hands, gently directing her to sit on the couch. “i’m so sorry, tzuyu. i didn’t mean to ignore you or shuhua or irene or anyone, i just—” 
“you’ve been preoccupied with your new girl?” 
“yeah,” you admit, bit of shame hanging, but adding, “and school. dooyoung–the guy editing my thesis—says it’s coming together really nicely, so.” 
tzuyu whoops, reaching out to shake your leg. “and you’ll be presenting it next semester! how do we feel about that?” 
“pretty good.” 
suddenly, her eyes soften, shifting closer. “i was mostly kidding, by the way, about you neglecting me. i remember how i was when i first got with shuhua. you couldn’t get me away from her.” 
“it’s different, though.” 
“what makes you say that?” 
“because shuhua is your girlfriend and sana is my—” 
you stop, horrified by the abrupt burn of tears. you turn away to conceal yourself, blinking hard, but tzuyu was always quick to notice. she wraps her arms around your elbow, leaning into your shoulder. “your sugar mommy,” she finishes gently, but you flinch like it’s a slap. 
“yeah. that.” 
“if it bothers you so much, then why are you staying with her?” i’m sure she’s given you enough that you have time to figure out another way to get money. it’s not like you need her.” 
“yeah,” you reply dully, still not meeting eyes with tzuyu. your mind is playing the denial aspect a lot more tougher now. “you’re right. i don’t.” 
with all things and struggles, you compartmentalize. 
you’re refusing to think of the blooming feelings for sana more than you have to, and in the even that you can’t, distraction was the solution: school, work, friends. and on the rare occurrence as crazy it would seem, shopping. 
“an IKEA drawer?” sana asks, baffled. you keep your phone between shoulder to ear. “why the fuck did you go to IKEA?” 
“i needed to,” you answer, pushing the giant box inside of your apartment, leaning against the wall as it’s on the wall. “my other drawer was broken. i’ve had it for like, seventeen years, so i figured that it was time for a change.” 
“and you could afford it?”
a rhetorical question. what sana’s really asking if the two bundred she sent you last week was a decent enough amount that you could splurge on. clenching your teeth, flushing. 
“yes.” 
“y/n, baby. i sent you the money so that you could go shopping.”
“i did. and i shopped at IKEA.” 
“are you gonna build the drawer now?” 
“yeah.” 
“let me come over. i can build it for you/” 
“sana, it’s fine. i’ve built furniture before.” 
“so have i. in fact, i bet i could have it done in half the time it takes you to read the instructions.”
“oh really now?” cocking a brow in disbelief. “how soon can you come over?” 
time didn’t really pass, staring at sana from the bed, chin resting on your palm as you watch her hiss and curse to herself, pink screwdriver in hand. the sweat rolls enticing down the hard ridges of her abs, her hair is up and out of her face in a knot. the most exhilarating part in all of this was watching him use her shirt as a sweat rag. 
“are you sure you don’t—”
“i’m almost done,” sana snaps, eyes flashing with indignation. “just give me ten more minutes.” 
true to her word, she was nearly done. the drawer stands tall in front of her, most of the pieces already constructed and put into place. all that’s missing is the top set of the drawers, which she has in her hands right now. 
still, it’s only mildly entertaining just to watch sana. you debated studying to pass the time, but the focus wasn’t enough on your book to make it stick. reading was also out of the question, and texting irene went nowhere after she revealed that she was on a date and couldn’t speak. the news that things with her and seulgi were going well and exciting to hear, but not long after. sana’s shirt was off. 
“it’s really fucking hot in here,” had been the excuse mainly. 
“is this supposed to keep me distracted? you ask. 
“i’m not trying to do anything. if you’re distracted, that’s your prerogative.” 
liar. she’s been annoyed the second you stopped foching on her long enough to try facetime tzuyu. 
you sigh, spitefully debating on what you can do to fluster sana. the limited options, though, tend to lean more in one direction and the idea of willfully doing any of them was embarrassing. 
suddenly, she whoops. “i finished!” 
you roll over on your stomach to see sana sliding the drawer into the top slot, circling it, pulling on different knobs to test the tightness and checking for smoothness of the pulling out and pushing in of the drawers. she grins at you, triumphantly. “i told you i could do it.”
“i never said that you couldn’t.” 
“it was in your tone.”
you smile, and sana straightens up to bend something in her body. a loud crack sounds, followed by a pained sigh, and her eyes open more glazed. “fuck.” 
soon after sana is laid flat on the mattress when you motioned her, face turned towards you with a look that says are you okay? 
“my back. it’s been annoying me since work—fuck.” 
you nick your head as you cautiously glide your hands over her skin, kneading the muscle softly, and sana just hums with relief. “keep doing that.” 
straddling on sana’s ass, languidly moving your fingers up. she just melts. sana perks up when you giggle. “what?” 
“nothing.” 
“tell me.” 
“i think it’s kinda bad for you to have back pain at your age, and it’s kinda mindblowing how active you are.”
“don’t be that dramatic, i’m not that old.” 
“for someone that’s near thirty.”
“that’s a bit harsh.” 
you giggle again before leaning down, lips skimming sana’s ear lobe. “i’m just teasing you.”
“you’re so fucked up for saying that, i’m only twenty-nine still.” 
“don’t be so sensitive.” you say pressing a kiss to her nape. “not bad if you're in your early late twenties early thirties while i’m in my early twenties.” 
sana sinks into you, like clay in your hands. when you move to the ridge of her cheekbone, she leans into you, turning her head to catch your lips. a languid kiss is shared, tongues melding, unhurried, but that fire is sparked between your hips and it becomes urgent. it’s a slow grind that’s rolled out, eyes fluttering at the friction. 
you pull away while sana breathes out, “fuck,” and flips you over now that you’re straddling over her front. your hands are on her waist, and sana moves her leg up between your legs, doubling down on the notice that you’re not wearing anything underneath the shorts, lips parting. 
she leans up to kiss you. sana always kisses you, mouth consuming like she wants to suck you inside. “i didn’t know you watching me build furniture would get you so hot.”
“everything you do gets me hot.” 
sana moans and binds you up against her, hips bucking, delicious friction sending stars behind your eyes. you wrap your arms around her neck, panting into her mouth, so euphoric that you want to weep. so happy. 
when she breaks way to squeeze your breasts, a loud knock sounds at the door, startling you. sana, however, is unmoved.
“ignore it,” she says, breath hot on your neck. “ride me.” 
your eyes flutter and you’re grasping at her hair, already picturing it, the slick coming out of you on her leg, the fruition and contact deep enough to send you reeling. and then you hear it: 
“y/n!” another loud knock, more insistent. “open the door!”
shit, you think, cursing, the word flying form your mouth now. “shit, shit.” 
sana pulls away from you, concerned, but you’re already beating her in the scramble. she watches you rush to the mirror to fix your hair. 
“what’s up? who is that?” 
“mina,” you breathes, cold panic pulsing through your veins. “my cousin.”
“oh, well—”
“it’s a bigger deal than you think,” you snap. “and stay here. she can’t see you.” 
sana’s eyes widen. “what–?” 
“stay here, sana.” 
you rush out of the room and hurry towards the front door. through the peephole, you see mina on the other side, arms crossed and expression stoic. you exhale deeply before opening the door, forcing a smile. 
“hi, mina.” 
she hums in greeting, shoulders knocking as she walks past you. when she spots the IKEA box, she stops short. 
“you bought furniture?”
“yes,” you answer hesitantly, clammy fingers clasped behind you. “i needed a new drawer.” 
“why didn’t you tell me?” 
“i need to call you every time i buy furniture?” 
“no. but these things sell for three hundred bucks. it’s expensive.”
“this one was on sale. one–fifty.” 
mina makes a deep sound in her throat, unsatisfied, but her journey is continued throughout your apartment. 
“so, uh. what are you doing here?” 
“it’s thanksgiving tomorrow.” 
“oh. i thought…you told me not to come. you said you were busy.” 
“some time opened up in my schedule,” she says, and finally stops long enough to look at you. her eyes were shrewd, filled with knowing. it only raises the sirens going off in your head louder. “i decided to come see you.”
“ah,” you breathe. “well, um. i didn’t buy any food. maybe we can order–?” 
“why are you so flustered? mina interrupts. “is there something going on?” 
“what? no, no, of course–”
“mina?” icy pinpricks poke your skin, and you slowly turn around to see sana standing in the hallway. her clothes and hair have been fixed, and she smiles at mina with a polite curiosity. 
your cousin’s expression sours instantly. “who the fuck is this?” 
“mina!”
“who is this. why is she in you apartment?!” 
sana walks towards mina, unphased by the insult. she sticks her hand out, “my name is minatozaki sana. nice to meet you.” 
mina peers at sana, neck tilted at an angle that would be comical if not for the fact that you feel like throwing up. finally, she looks at you again. 
“we need to talk.”  
522 notes · View notes
wbbwife · 2 months
Text
Kind Of Caught
paring: kate martin x fem!reader
synopsis: reader and kate kind of get caught by jada
warning(s): smut (MINORS DNI)
word count: 731
“Baby hold on, there are other people in the apartment right now.” I say as Kate tries to take off my shorts. “It’s fine, you just have to be quiet and-“
“Me and you both know I cannot be quiet if I tried” I say. “Cmon baby I missed you so much since I was on the road, and I want to make up for lost time.” Says Kate as she looks up at me while kissing the inside of my thighs which makes my insides warm. “I swear this is the only time you’re ever going to convince me to do this.” She smirks proudly and bunches my panties and shorts together to pull them down. As soon as they come off my legs automatically spread.
“You’re so wet for me beautiful, I love it.” Kate says admiring my cunt. “Of course I am.” My breath picks up, anticipating the pleasure. “Just be quiet for me, I promise it’ll be worth it.” She takes a long lick, following up with a kiss to my bundle of nerves. “You taste so good my love, I wish I could eat you forever.” “I wish you would shut up and get to it before I change my mind.” “That’s how it is? Bet”
Kate immediately swirls her tongue around my clit, pushing two of her fingers into my cunt hastily, as I cry out.
“Fuckk, baby wait.” I plead; she laughs into my cunt, the vibrations intensifying the feeling. Kate smacks my thigh “You were talking all that shit can’t take it? Shut up before someone hears you.” “I’m sorry.” I choke out.
I close my eyes trying to focus on not alarming the people outside of her room. Fingers pumping in out my cunt, while her thumb rubs my clit skillfully. I feel a hand wrap around my throat feverishly. I pop open my eyes to see Kate giving me a warning glare. “You better keep your eyes open while I fuck you baby.”
I whimper, as tears start to fall from my face. “Pleaseee sss-loww down.” She smirks pausing her movement. “Whatever you want sweetheart.” Kate starts kissing my stomach slowly, runching my shirt up and taking it off of me. “I could never get tired of this view.” I blush hard, as I turn into the pillow next to me. “Let me see you beautiful.” Hovering over me, she turns my head to her and kisses me like she hasn’t seen me in months. I rub up and down her toned stomach, trying to tug her sweats down. She stops my hand. “I want this to be about you first love.” I mutter an “ok” letting my hand slip into her hair.
Kate bends down sucking on my neck, leaving a mark I know that’s going to be there for days. She kisses her way down to my breasts and swirls her tongue around my nipple needily, going back and forth between my breasts ensuring both get attention.
“Omggg Kate, that feels sooo good”
“Say my name again.” She whispers into my ear.
“Kateeee-“ A knock sounds at the door.
My whole body freezes but Kate is unbothered as she stuffs a finger into my cunt.
“Kate can I have my computer charger back, my MacBooks dying.” Jade says, wrestling with the door knob. “Why is the door locked?” She questions.
“Hold on give me a minute.” Kate shouts at the door, while removing her finger from inside me.
She opens her top drawer taking out a vibrator, setting it on my clit. I smack a hand over my mouth as waves of pleasure hit me fast.
“I’ll be back baby, be quiet” she says kissing my cheek.
Kate gets off the bed bending down to unplug Jades charger from the socket, rolling it up neatly. She walks over to the door, unlocking it and cracking it slightly so my whole body wasn’t visible, only my foot.
“Here you go” she says handing Jade her charger.
“Thanks but why was the door locked?”
Kate looks back at me smirking, “No reason.”
“Oh hell no, are you guys fucking in there.” Shouts Jade.
Kate laughs locking the door again, then walking back to me.
“Good girl, you didn’t make any noise, you deserve a reward.” She takes the vibrator off my clit and starts eating me out like she’s been starving.
504 notes · View notes
luvrgrlellie · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media
pretty mess
pairing: ellie williams x reader
summary: in which reader gets sloppy drunk and ellie takes care of her
warnings: mention of puking
“stand up, y/n, right now” ellie said sternly, grabbing your arms and attempting to lift you to your feet. you giggled in response, resisting against her as if ellie trying to get your wasted ass off this random frat lawn was some kind of game. ellie, fed up with babysitting you all night while you got ridiculously drunk, bent down and scooped you up, throwing you over her shoulder despite your protests.
you quickly changed from happy and giggling to mad and yelling. “ellieeeeeyuh. put me down… m’ fine i swearrrr.”
ellie rolled her eyes, your act not convincing her one bit. the whole night that your guys’ friend group had been out, hopping from frat to frat on your college campus, you had been an absolute menace - running away from the group, climbing on any elevated surface you saw, and taking shot after shot with strangers, despite your inebriated state. after finding you chatting up some random group at an entirely different party, slurring your words and unknowingly flashing your pink panties to the whole circle due to your criss-cross applesauce position, ellie decided that you were out of control and needed to go home. you, on the other hand, were having the time of your life and could not disagree more. that was until ellie started heading back to her apartment, jostling you and the tequila-jungle juice-leftover pizza concoction turning in your stomach.
“wait - ellie! stop - seriously stop, I’m gonna…” ellie stopped in her tracks, suddenly knowing exactly what was about to happen. as soon as she placed your feet back on the ground, you bent over and puked up the 15+ shots that had brought you to your current state. her annoyance with you immediately fizzled out and was replaced with concern and an intense need to comfort and care for you.
“ugh, i’m sorry baby. it’s alright, let it out, i’m here,” she cooed, rubbing your back and holding your hair back while you vomited. “let’s get you to bed.”
———————————————————————
20 minutes later, the uber that ellie had decided to call so that you wouldn’t have to make the mile trek back to her apartment while sick had dropped you two off at ellie’s front door. she helped you inside with an arm around you for support, getting you to her bedroom just as you started to feel nauseous again. she sat you down on her bed, and you leaned over to her nearby trashcan to puke again. you wiped your mouth after you finished and tears formed in your eyes as you began to sober up and realize how much of a mess you’d been tonight. you looked up at your girlfriend and a sob escaped your mouth. “i’m sorry ellie I-I-I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”
“shhh stop, you didn’t ruin my night. c’mere baby.” she lifted you into her lap as you continued to cry. “no more crying, mkay? gonna make yourself sick again.” she pulled you away from her chest to look at you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear while staring at you intently and adoringly. “so pretty even when you’re such a mess, it’s not fair” she teased, making you crack a small smile. “i love taking care of you, but you gotta listen to me when I tell you to slow down, okay? ‘don’t like you like that in public, especially when you won’t stay in one place and let me watch out for you.” your smile fell, feeling guilty once again at worrying your girlfriend all night just because you can’t handle your liquor. noticing this, she assures you, “hey, it’s okay, i’m not mad alright? just love you and want you to be safe.”
“i know els. i love you.”
ellie removed you from her lap and laid you down in her bed before heading to the bathroom to gather some things to make your hangover better the next day. she grabs tylenol & fills a glass with water which she places on the nightstand beside her bed. shuffling into bed beside you, ellie scooches to your side, guiding your head to lay on her chest. “you’re the bestest girlfriend in the whole world els.”
“yeah yeah I know, now go to bed drunky.”
cute little ellie-takes-care-of-drunk-reader drabble/blurbish thing since i’m drunk right now and wishing ellie was here to make fun of me 💔
xoxo,
a ;)
1K notes · View notes