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niningtori · 25 days

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see me | chapter four: together (final)

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after another failed relationship, you're ready to accept your fate as hopeless. choi beomgyu has other plans, though. or, beomgyu s your best friend's little brother and he's tired of you treating him like a kid.

genre: romance, angst, angst with a happy ending, best friend's brother au

word count: 3.4k (whoa)

notes: hi friends! happy easter to all who celebrate!! sorry this took me a bit to get out. i just love this story and this beomgyu so much i didn't want to rush it. i hope you're all satisfied with how this ends. see end of work for more notes :)

you're so out of it jia can't fucking take it anymore.

"hello? come back to earth, please," she says, waving her hand in front of your face. "are you ever gonna tell me what the fuck happened with doyoon?"

it's been a few days since your return from the beach. suffice it to say, one painfully awkward drive was spent with you trying not to openly stare at beomgyu and him focusing intently on the scenery outside.

you're actually a little surprised by her question. you genuinely haven't thought about your conversation with doyoon since you had it — you've simply been too preoccupied by the revelation that beomgyu has feelings for you.

"nothing much, really. he apologized to me and asked to get a drink sometime."

"what the fuck?! what did you say?!"

"i said no," you reply simply. she's quiet for a moment before her face contorts into a deep frown.

"why do i get the feeling that that's not what's bothering you so much?"

"because it's not," you admit with a sigh.

"then what is it? you've been weird ever since we got back."

you're torn for a while. how do you explain to your best friend that her kid brother is in love with you? or says he is, at least.

"... it's about beomgyu. he—"

"oh, so he finally told you, huh?" she interrupts with a knowing look and you're absolutely flabbergasted.

"t-told me what?" you try feigning ignorance. maybe she's got it wrong?

"that he's been in love with you ever since he first saw you."

"how the fuck did you know that?!" you ask incredulously.

"you're my best friend and he's my brother. i know you two too well," she shrugs.

"so you knew this whole time and didn't tell me?"

"well, to be honest, it was painfully obvious, but i didn't wanna embarrass either of you and it's, frankly, none of my business."

"i... wasn't he just drunk? i don't believe it…” you trail off.

"what do you mean?"

"i mean, he can't really mean it. he doesn't know what he wants. he's just a kid and—"

"i'm going to stop you right there," she says sternly. "you may be oblivious, but don't you dare dismiss his feelings to make yourself feel comfortable. his feelings are real and he doesn't deserve to have you completely disregard them just because you can't face them." you flinch at her harshness.

"b-but he's never even hinted at it!"

"never even hinted at it, my ass. that boy was all over you," she snorts. "did you really not notice anything this past week?" your eyebrows knit in confusion as you think back to all of the times the boy (man?) had interacted with you. suddenly, the unassuming touches and glances beomgyu shared with you hit you at a mile a minute. oh god, he was flirting? he was, wasn't he? and you just ruffled his hair and called him cute.

but you're not done denying, denying, denying.

"i just don't understand. how could he like me when he's always with somebody new?"

"has it ever occurred to you that that's because he wants you to see him as a man and not the child you're so convinced he is?" you fall silent at this. no, it has never occurred to you, but now that she's said it, the puzzle pieces are starting to fit together in the most gut wrenching way.

"so he's been fucking around for years because he wants to prove something to me?"

"more or less, yeah." your head is spinning at this. so his feelings are sincere?

"i... i don't know what to say."

"i figured you wouldn't," she hums.

"what do i do?" you ask with a newfound sense of panic. this is real. beomgyu actually love, loves you.

"well, what do you want to do? it all depends on how you feel about him."

"to be honest, i've never seen him as anything other than a brother," you sigh.

"and what about now?"

"i... i don't know. i'm just confused," you whine, digging your face into your hands and slightly tugging on your hair. when you think of the kiss you two shared, your heart skips a beat and butterflies arise in your stomach. well, that's new.

"honestly, i'll consider that progress. it's better than being brother-zoned."

"jia!" you exclaim exasperatedly. "you're not helping. the boy i've thought of as a literal brother is in love with me and i've unknowingly treated him like shit for years."

"yes, but i know and he knows that you didn’t mean it. look, even if you don't like him at all, don't you think he deserves a proper rejection at the very least?"

"you're right," you relent. "you’re always right.”

“well, i know,” she muses. “but before you decide anything, i want you to think about who’s been by your side all these years. when you didn’t have anyone else, who could you count on?”

“i —” you begin.

“don’t answer yet. just think about it.” and think about it, you do.

the more time you’re left to think about what happened with him, the more confused you feel. beomgyu isn’t a child anymore, that much is clear, but does that mean you can undo the near decade of thinking of him as one? he’s handsome, sure, and that kiss nearly knocked you off of your feet, but can you really see him as a partner? as a man?

you’re not really sure. plus, what would happen if it didn’t work out? the choi’s are like family to you. they’re more of a family than your actual family ever was or ever will be. is it really worth gambling such an important piece of your heart for something that could easily end in heartbreak? but then, it’s broken, either way. can you really face the choi family again when you know beomgyu is in love with you and has been for such a long time? no, you can’t. not in good conscience. you’ve, intentionally or not, ignored beomgyu’s feelings for years now and you can’t ask him to bottle them back up for your own comfort.

you decide it's best to just talk to him.

beomgyu doesn’t think that this is a good idea at all, actually. but his friends told him that rotting in his bed and crying like he has been for the past few days is even worse. when they put it like that, it didn't seem right to refuse their suggestion to have a double date with yeonjun. even still, he told them he wasn't ready to see someone new, but they said he was never seeing you in the first place. that sure shut him up. either way, it would be casual and yeonjun just needs a friend for his date's friend.

his "date" is nice enough, but she seems to have not gotten the memo that he's here as a wingman and not much else. she's trying to draw his attention by not-so-discreetly placing her hand on his thigh. gross. he genuinely thought about pretending to have a stomachache to cut the date short, but yeonjun had the bright idea of inviting the girls over after dinner. so now, as he sits on the couch of his and yeonjun’s shared apartment, he prays for god to intervene and end his suffering.

a knock on the door pulls him out of his thoughts. please, god, let it be the maintenance man telling them they have to evacuate because of a gas leak. he almost jumps out of his seat to get to the door first, but yeonjun is closer and he says he’ll get it. fuck. before he can catch a glimpse of the mystery person at the door, his date speaks again.

“gyu?” the girl asks tentatively.

“mmm?” he says, turning back around to face her.

“do you like me?” she says while, once again, putting her hand on his thigh. alright. enough is enough. usually, he would tell her to beat it and leave it at that, but ever since you told him he doesn’t treat girls the nicest, he’s decided he’ll try to be better. he takes her hand from his lap into his and opts to just be truthful.

“to be honest, i —”

“beomie?”

oh, he’d recognize that voice anywhere, even in his sleep. his head whips around almost comically fast and he unintentionally yanks his hand from his date's as he stands straight up.

“w-what are you doing here?” he asks, incredibly flustered.

you should say something, but your eyes can’t help but linger where his hand was joined with the hand of the very lovely girl sitting beside him, even after he’s pulled away. oh my god. you’re interrupting, aren’t you? he’s moved on, but you’re standing there like an idiot. you need to say something.

“i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to intrude,” you choke out. you don’t know why, but you feel like you’re about to cry. you feel so embarrassed. why did you even for a second think that this would play out any differently?

“everybody out,” beomgyu says firmly.

“what?” his date asks, genuinely in shock.

“i said, everybody else needs to get out of here. right now. besides you,” he says while gesturing to your pitiful frame.

“gyu, i live here,” yeonjun argues.

“out,” beomgyu repeats. yeonjun lifts his hands in surrender and leads the bewildered girls out of the apartment.

now it's just you and beomgyu.

after the door shuts, the silence is as unbearable as it is palpable. beomgyu is staring at you with the same intensity as he was the night he confessed to you. you feel so vulnerable — so seen — you honestly kind of wish you had just snuck out with everyone else.

“beomie, i’m so, so sorry. i didn’t mean to ruin your date. i can go, i just —”

“do you know what i've noticed about you?” he quietly interrupts. you’re so taken aback, you’re stunned into silence. he sighs before he continues. “the way you say things are okay when someone fucks you over. it’s okay to be mad at me, you know?”

“beomie, i’m not mad!” you insist. “you’re single, after all. i’m the one who —”

“i’m single, but i still told you i loved you a few days ago. why wouldn’t you be hurt?” once again, you’re left speechless at his maturity. when did he become more mature than you? or was he always this way, and you just never noticed?

“or is it that you just don’t care enough about me to be upset?” he's the one who looks small now and you worry you have the power to break him. he deserves an honest answer, so you think about how you felt when you saw his hand intertwined with that girl’s and your heart feels a nasty pang.

“i… i am upset,” you pause and process that ugly feeling. “really upset, actually. but not angry.”

“i’m sorry,” he says, not without conviction. “yeonjun needed a date for his date’s friend, and i planned on rejecting her, but i’m really sorry i hurt you.”

“... it’s alright,” you say carefully. “i understand. and i still think you don’t owe me anything, beomie.”

“but i want to owe you,” he says quietly.

“what do you mean?” you can’t help but ask.

“i want to owe you. i want to make it up to you, and i want you to make it up to me.” you think you understand what he means. he wants you to make it up to him for not seeing him as he truly is all these years, but you just can’t understand his thinking.

“why?” you ask softly.

“why would you ask when you already know why?” he answers quietly with a sad smile. because he loves you.

“but why? why do you like me? you could have anyone. i’m wishy washy, i’m insecure. i’m just a mess, beomie. and i don’t want you to waste your time with me.” you hate the way your voice shakes. you wish, for once in your life, that you could be brave enough to say what you need to say without hesitating. you feel as small as a child, and in front of beomgyu of all people. but the dynamic you’ve always thought you had is becoming more and more twisted as you realize you’ve been very, very wrong about him, and maybe about yourself, too. beomgyu is not some kid. his feelings are not so easily written off, and that becomes even clearer when he says his next words in a haste.

“don’t talk about yourself like that,” he says sharply, and his seriousness immediately derails your train of thought. “i’m not looking for anybody else. i… i don’t want anybody else. and i would never, ever feel like my time is wasted with you. every moment i spend with you is important to me.” you don’t mean for your eyes to get hot. truly, you don’t, but the boy’s words are so kind you’re unable to control yourself.

“you really love me?” you ask at the risk of seeming annoying. you just have to be sure.

“i do,” he says patiently. “i always have.” he isn’t sure what to make of you asking this. he has no hope now, but if it makes you feel better to hear him say he loves you a million times over, so be it. you’ve been hurt enough all your life, from your parents to your partners, if he’s able to comfort you even just a little bit, even if it’s never reciprocated, it’s enough for him. so he continues.

“i’m… i’ve always thought about how to say this, so i’m sorry if it’s just too much for you. if it is, then just stop me, okay?” you can’t help but nod. “i just have to say that, to me, you are the most beautiful person in the world. i’ve wanted to tell you that since i was 14. i know you’re sad and i know you’ve been hurt before, and i wish i could take it all away. i’ve always wished i could take it all away. i know you think you deserve everything that’s happened to you so far, but i want you to know that that's not true, and it kills me that you’ve ever felt that way. i love everything you say you hate about yourself, because you’re you. i know you want to change, and i want you to know that i see how hard you’re trying. those flaws that make you a mess, or however you put it, only make me love you more because i can see how hard you’ve worked to get where you are. and if you don’t love me, even if you never do, that’s… it's okay. i just want you to be happy. and if i can be selfish, i want to be the one who helps you get there.”

you don’t try to stifle your tears anymore. they are now flowing freely and your breath is heavy in your throat. he understands you. he sees you for everything that you are and were, and everything that you’re trying to be. has anyone ever made you feel this safe before? has anyone ever made you feel this loved and understood?

you think back to what jia asked. when you didn’t have anyone else, who could you count on? if you didn’t trust any man in the world, you could trust beomgyu. that’s just how it is. you realize, even from the first night you met him, you’ve always been relying on him, in a way. why else would you feel so comfortable telling him about your anxieties mere hours after you spoke to him for the first time?

things were one way then, but they could be different now. beomgyu loves you in a way that previously seemed inconceivable to you. what did you do to deserve this boy — this man? not a fucking thing, in your opinion, but now that you know how he really feels, is it possible to accept anything less than the love he is now presenting to you? maybe he’ll wake up one day and regret everything he’s said up until now, but you’re far too selfish to give up the heart he’s begging for you to take as your own.

you don’t know why, but you fling yourself into his arms, reminiscent of how you did all those years ago when he was just a teenage boy and you were just a heartbroken girl. he holds you like he did before, with an overwhelming sense of patience and security. he traces his hands lovingly up and down your back.

“okay. okay, i want to try. i can’t promise that i’ll be perfect, i can’t even promise to be good, but i’ll try, okay? you’re so, so good, beomie. and i'm sorry for not realizing it sooner.”

he pulls away from your embrace and your cheeks feel hot when you catch his heated gaze. he looks down at you and if his look wasn’t enough, his next words certainly are:

“can i kiss you?”

“yes, beomie,” you whisper.

"call me gyu," he says hoarsely. you gulp and pray he doesn't hear it.

he softly, reverently, pushes your stray hairs behind your ears and you realize he’s done so many times before. mainly when you were sad, but this time is… different. when his lips lock with yours, you're stunned into oblivion. there's so much fire behind it, but still, there’s a gentleness you’ve never known. as if he’s afraid of breaking you, he holds you like you’re a precious gem. usually, kisses are take take take from you, but he gives you so much love and care you feel like you’re floating. is this what love is supposed to feel like? so safe and so, so warm?

he parts from you far too soon for your liking. his breath is labored and his cheeks are flushed. you look at him in confusion.

“i-i’m sorry, i just can't. if we keep going, i won't be able to control myself. i'm gonna —”

“it's okay, gyu,” you whisper. “we can keep going.” he understands what you mean without you having to say anything more.

“are you sure?” he asks, just to be safe.

“i'm sure,” you answer without missing a beat. his lips curl up and he leads you to his bedroom, hand holding yours so tightly, it’s almost like he’s afraid to lose you.

the night is spent with beomgyu praising you like he’s never seen anything quite like you before. you feel his devotion with every passing moment and you can’t believe this is what you’ve been missing all these years. you’ve never felt so good, so cared for, in all your life. when you’re finished, and he’s cradling you in his arms, you’re both struggling to catch your breath. he looks at you like you hung the moon, but what you don’t know is that you’re starting look at him like that, too.

you’re so anxious. as you pull up to the choi’s family home in the passenger’s seat of beomgyu’s car, you can’t help but wring your hands together. this could be very good, or very, very bad. you can’t help but feel like you’re… betraying? the choi family by dating beomgyu. they’ve taken you in as family, but you’ve taken beomgyu as your own. do you regret that decision? well, you can’t say you do when beomgyu grabs your restless hands and comfortingly squeezes them before telling you “hey, it’s alright. don’t be nervous. i love you. they love you. everyone here loves you. just be yourself and i’ll take care of the rest, okay?”

“okay,” you say shyly. you and beomgyu have been working on your self esteem. it was pretty slow going at first, but you’ve been pushing through. now, after three months, you’re a lot better, but there’s still room for improvement. beomgyu is nothing if not patient, though. after all, he’s been waiting for 8 years. how could he not be? and so he patiently coaxes you out of the car and into the house.

you two find your way inside and are greeted by his parents, jia, and yijun. nobody bats an eye at you two walking in together — they just greet and hug you as per usual, but their smiles drop and their faces turn serious when beomgyu announces he has something to tell everyone.

“guys, uh, we have something to tell you all,” he says, lacing his fingers with yours, “we’re together now.” you could hear a pin drop with how quiet the room is. mrs. choi is the first to break the silence.

“h-how long? how long has this been going on?”

“three months,” he says cautiously. again, the room is silent.

“... only three? damn it!” mr. choi exclaims.

“i told you guys it hasn’t been very long,” jia sneers. “now pay up.” beomgyu’s parents grimace while pulling out their wallets and stuffing cash in jia’s hands.

“pleasure doing business with you,” she teases with a shit-eating grin.

“um, guys? what’s going on? i’m kind of pouring my heart out over here,” beomgyu says irritatedly.

“oh, honey. we know. we’ve known you liked her since she first stepped foot into our home. she was the only one who didn’t,” mrs. choi replies with a wave of her hand and your cheeks can’t help but heat up to an impossible degree. beomgyu finally pieces everything together while you’re still scrambling to understand what’s going on.

“oh my god, did you all make a bet to see how long it’d take for us to get together?!” beomgyu exclaims.

“more or less,” mr. choi says nonchalantly. realistically speaking, you and beomgyu should be angry, but all you two can do when you lock eyes with each other is laugh.

“so you’re okay with it?” you ask meekly.

“of course we are!” mrs. choi says. “we couldn’t ask for a better match for our boy. we were just waiting for you to see that, too.” you can’t help but feel your eyes go sour. you hug his parents and they rub your hair. why would you think they’d do anything other than accept you? they always have.

that night, after all the board games and movies and laughter, you go out for some fresh air. you aren’t surprised in the slightest to see beomgyu sitting on the back porch steps, almost as if he’s been waiting for you.

“there you are,” beomgyu says with a grin blooming on his face. you sit next to him, so close your thighs are touching. you lean your head against his shoulder and you sigh in contentment.

“that wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asks.

“not at all,” you smile, “but did everyone in the world know about us besides me?”

“pretty much, yeah,” he giggles and you playfully smack his chest. after your laughter dies down, beomgyu senses some hesitation from you. it feels like you want to say something to him.

“what is it?” he asks. you pull away from him and stare into his eyes. they look especially starry tonight.

“i have to tell you something,” you say, voice trembling slightly.

“mhm?” he nods.

“i think… actually, i know i love you, gyu. and i’m sorry it took me so long to get here, but i really do.” your eyes water when you see beomgyu’s doing the same. he looks so relieved, as if your words in particular are the ones he’s been waiting for all his life. and they are.

“i love you, too, if you haven’t guessed that already,” he says softly. “and i’d do everything all over again if it meant i’d get to be with you like this.” his eyes close and he leans in. you meet him halfway and press your lips together in a chaste kiss.

notes pt. 2: and that's it for them! i actually wrote a bit of smut for this, but i don't think it'll ever see the light of day i fear. as always, feedback is appreciated! i'd love to know what you all think :)

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dixons-sunshine · 2 months

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Scooby Snacks with your Whiskey | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: One night when you couldn't sleep, you decided to join Daryl in the guard tower and keep him company. During a game of truth or drink, Daryl unknowingly insulted your favourite childhood cartoon, which resulted in playful arguments, accidentally shattered whiskey bottles and confessions.

Genre: Fluff

Era: Prison, post season 3, pre season 4

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, sexual innuendos but nothing major.

Word count: 3.7k

A/n: This is based off of what Daryl told Beth in s4 episode 12 right before they set the cabin on fire. He was talking about a cartoon about a talking dog, and my mind instantly went to Scooby Doo, and so this fic was born. It's not really good, since I'm still trying to get into the writing momentum, but I hope you enjoy!

Also, my requests are open for any TWD requests if y'all wanna send any!

—

"Hey. Would you mind some company?"

At the sound of your voice, Daryl turned around. He hummed and nodded for you to come closer, to which you complied. You stood beside him in silence, quietly observing the walkers at the fences. Unbeknownst to you, Daryl was stealing glances at you, his hands fidgeting with his crossbow string.

His heart fluttered at the sight of you, a regular thing that happened whenever he was in your general area. You looked up at him with that smile that always made butterflies fly around in his stomach and your eyes always seemed to sparkle brighter than the stars in the night sky, and although Daryl liked the quiet away from everyone, you were one of his only exceptions.

Daryl loved hearing you talk. He loved listening to you talk about your life before and although he wouldn't admit it, he was always captivated by the bedtime stories you told little Judith. The way you changed your voice to match the emotion of the part you were telling, even though Judith didn't understand anyway and would react the same regardless, was enchanting to him. He would listen to you talk for hours if he could.

And above all, he loved your caring yet badass nature. The way you would take down walkers with a skilled ease, and then in the same breath turn to him and check him for any injuries with a concerned look on your face made him feel drawn to you. You actually cared about him, in a way nobody ever had. Daryl didn't believe that anything was perfect, but you were the closest thing to perfect there was.

It also didn't help that you were absolutely breathtaking to him. From the beautiful colour of your eyes to your perfectly plump lips that he's wanted to kiss on more occasions than one. Daryl couldn't define how he felt about you because he never felt this way about anyone before, but he knew his feelings for you ran deeper than what could be described as platonic. And that fact scared him.

A soft sigh from you snapped Daryl from his thoughts. He looked over at you and noticed that you seemed to be deep in thought, a small frown on your face as you kept your eyes trailed on the ground below.

"Penny for yer thoughts?" Daryl prompted, instantly gaining your attention. Your eyes trailed over to him and his heart skipped a beat at the smile you gave him.

"Just thinking," you responded nonchalantly, shaking your head in dismissal. You pushed away from the railing you were leaning over and turned your body fully to look at Daryl.

Daryl hummed softly, his eyes trailing over you before shifting back to look at the fences. "Ya wanna talk 'bout it?" He questioned.

"It's stupid."

"Ain't stupid if it's botherin' ya," he retorted, turning his body to fully face you as well.

You sighed before shaking your head. "It's just... I'm thinking about my mom. The last thing we did before all of this was fight over something stupid and now..." You trailed off, suddenly feeling awkward under the archer's stare.

"Ya think she didn't make it?" He finished for you, giving you a knowing look.

"I know she didn't make it. She was diagnosed with cancer about two weeks before all of this started, and there aren't exactly doctors around who could've helped her," you responded, awkwardly fidgeting with your fingers.

"'M sorry to hear tha'. This world jus' ain't meant for people with sicknesses like tha'," Daryl said, and mentally kicked himself for saying that. There you were, confiding in him over something serious and that's the best he could come up with? He felt like a perfect fool.

However, instead of being angry at him, you looked at him with a small smile, much to his surprise. "Yeah," you started. "I just hope that she didn't suffer. She was a good woman."

"Were ya close?" Daryl asked, his blue eyes meeting your beautiful ones. He hoped that he wasn't prying, but he wanted to know more about you, the woman who haunted his thoughts 24/7.

You nodded. "We were."

"Ya make a lot of good memories with her?"

You laughed lightly, surprising the archer. "What is this, 20 questions?"

Daryl frowned. "What?"

"20 questions," you repeated, noting that your repetition didn't spark recognition in the archer's eyes. "It's a game you play with your friends at parties, sleepovers, you name it. You all take turns asking each other any questions you want."

"Never heard of it," Daryl said, shrugging his shoulders. He felt awkward under your intense stare, your eyes widened with surprise.

You softly gasped in surprise. Then, an idea struck you. "Wait here."

"It's my shift," he stated matter-of-factly. "Ain't goin' nowhere until dawn."

"Perfect."

With one last look at Daryl, you climbed down from the guard tower, excitedly rushing into the cellblock and into your cell. You bent down in front of your bed and retrieved what you were looking for; a bottle of whiskey you found on a run. With a renewed excitement, you gripped the bottle tightly and headed back up to the guard tower, finding Daryl waiting patiently.

Daryl glanced at the bottle in your hand and looked at you questioningly. "Where'd ya find tha'?" He asked, watching you approach with a slight smile on his face. He could practically see your excitement, the big smile on your face infectious.

"On a run a couple of weeks ago. I've been waiting for the right moment to open it, and the right moment has now presented itself," you said, sitting cross-legged on the floor and motioning for Daryl to do the same.

"How so?" He questioned, following your lead by sitting down on the ground in front of you. He kept his eyes trailed on you, watching your every move.

"Well, I was gonna suggest we play 20 questions, but I don't wanna force you into answering a question you don't want to, so we're gonna play truth or drink instead. We ask questions back and forth, and if we don't wanna answer the question that was asked, we drink. It's as simple as that."

"And I dun' got any say in if I wanna play or not?" Daryl asked, a small, teasing smile on his face. His smile turned into something more genuine when you let out a light laugh.

"Nope!" You laughed, opening the bottle and placing it in between the two of you. "You wanna start?"

Daryl hesitated, pursing his lips. "I dun' know wha' to ask."

"Anything. There are no wrong questions," you reassured him, leaning back on the palm of your hands.

"Alrigh'," he drawled, unsure of himself. "Wha' was yer favourite movie before all of this?"

"There you go," you praised him with a smile, making Daryl duck his head as heat flushed his face. "To be honest, I don't really know. I watched a lot of movies, so I don't think I can narrow it down to one. But I have a couple of favourites. The Breakfast Club and Back to the Future are two of them."

Daryl nodded, absentmindedly chewing on his thumbnail. "Now 's yer turn, righ'?" He questioned.

"Yeah," you confirmed. After a couple of beats of silence, you voiced your question. "Who was your first kiss?"

Daryl shifted awkwardly, embarrassment filling his body. "I honestly dun' remember her name. It was some girl in a dive bar Merle used to drag me to. She was drunk and I was helpin' her to her car when she turned around and kissed me."

"How old were you?" You asked, genuinely interested. Daryl rarely talked about his past, so when he did, you ingrained every piece of what he said into your mind.

"Nah, 's my turn to ask the questions. Wait yer turn," he joked, eliciting a laugh from you.

"Touché, Dixon, touché. Ask away."

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip, a habit you noticed he unknowingly did whenever he was thinking. You found it absolutely endearing, but the more you thought about it, the more you realised that you found most things about the archer endearing. The way he fiddled with his bolts whenever he was bored, the way he flicked his hair out of his face with the shake of his head, his small smile—you could go on a rant about his smile, and you have before. Michonne happened to be the victim who was forced to listen to your lovesick rambling in the car on your way back from the same run you'd gotten the whiskey from.

Begrudgingly snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you patiently waited for Daryl to continue the game. Feeling your stare on him, he asked the first thing that popped to mind, and instantly wished he didn't.

"Who was yer first sex partner?"

A nervous laugh bubbled out of you, heat creeping up your cheeks at a rapid pace. Daryl felt his own face flush, feeling stupid for asking the question.

"Sorry. Ya dun' have to answer tha'," he apologised, his eyes darting to the floor.

"No, it's okay. Like I said, no wrong questions. Besides, if I don't answer, I have to drink," you said, trying to compose yourself. You took a deep breath. Of all the things you thought you'd be doing tonight, you didn't think you'd be discussing who your first intimate partner was with the guy you had feelings for. "My highschool boyfriend, senior year."

Daryl nodded and left it at that. He leaned back on his hands, watching you carefully. He was surprised that you'd actually answered the question, given the personal privacy boundaries he pushed. He silently promised himself that whatever personal question you asked him, he would answer.

"What's the most petty fight you've ever gotten into because of Merle?" you questioned, looking at him expectantly.

Daryl stayed quiet for a few moments, thinking hard about his answer. "It was with this one guy. He was Merle's dealer. He was a small, janky white guy. We were over at his house one day, jus' loungin' around and watchin' TV, some stupid kids show playin'. It was barely noon, we were all wasted and Merle was high. Merle decided to take a piss outta the show, and when he started, he wouldn't let up. He never could when he was high."

Daryl stopped for a moment, collecting his thoughts while your gaze remained fixated on him. You seemed genuinely interested in the story, your eyes sparkling with wonder. Your lips were slightly parted and it took everything in Daryl not to act on his urge to kiss your pretty lips.

"It turns out, the cartoon was the guy's favourite show, and he got hella pissed 'bout it. 'M pretty sure Merle didn't know it was the guy's favourite show. I mean, he never saw the guy except when he needed somethin', but tha' didn't matter. The guy punched Merle in the face, and tha's when I got into the fight. 'M on this guy and 'm punchin' him as hard as I can, but then the guy pulls a gun on me, sticks it righ' against my head and threatens to shoot me."

"Oh, god," you murmured, slightly horrified.

"Yeah," Daryl nodded, seemingly unfazed at your reaction. "Tha's when Merle pulls out his gun and points it at the guy. At this point, everyone's yellin', I'm yellin'... I thought I was gonna die tha' day."

"How'd you get out of it?" You asked, bringing your knees up to rest your head on them.

"I didn't. The guy ended up punchin' me in the gut and I puked on the floor. They both started laughin' at me and everythin' was magically over," Daryl said, shaking his head at the memory. "And to think that happened over some dumbass cartoon about a talkin' dog."

You visibly stiffened, and this caught Daryl's attention. "Wha'? Wha's wrong?"

"Talking dog..." You trailed off, your eyebrows furrowing. "Did the dog happen to be a Great Dane? And his owner was this guy in a green shirt and brown pants with messy hair?"

Daryl pursed his lips, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. There were other people, too. Two women and a guy with an ascot."

"Scooby Doo," you stated plainly, giving the archer a playful glare.

"Wha'?" He asked, confusion evident on his face.

"Scooby Doo," you repeated, waving your hand nonchalantly. "That's the cartoon you were talking about. The cartoon you called dumb."

"Yeah, 's 'cus it was. Can't believe anybody actually liked tha' crap."

"Daryl Dixon, how dare you?" You laughed, your eyes widened in surprise. "Scooby Doo is a national treasure! He was part of my childhood and now you're insulting him? I don't think we can be friends anymore."

Daryl chuckled at you, rolling his eyes at your theatrics. "From wha' I saw, the dog and his owner were cowards. Runnin' away, screamin', from fake ghosts after how many years of encounterin' them and knowin' tha' ghosts aren't real but they still think they are? It's stupid as shit, and I ain't apologising for thinkin' tha'."

"You're a disgrace!" You laughed, trying to sound angry but miserably failing. "You're telling me that, real or not, if a ghost was chasing you that you wouldn't run away?"

"Tha's righ'," he nodded, before gesturing to the walkers down at the fence. "I dun' run away from tha' shit, so I sure as hell wouldn't be runnin' away from fake ass ghosts."

"I can't believe you," you said, shaking your head in mock disappointment. "This is the worst betrayal ever. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget this. We won't be able to go back to being friends because of this. This is terrible."

"Stop," he laughed quietly, his eyes twinkling with a rare occurrence of merriment. "It ain't tha' deep. I jus' dun' like it."

"Clearly you don't like it because you have bad taste," you retorted playfully.

"Well, I like ya, so do I still have bad taste?"

Silence. It was so silent, you could hear a pin drop. Any trace of the former reverie between the two of you disappeared and was instead replaced with an invisible current of electricity between you. Your breath caught in your throat at the sudden revelation from the man, and your heart sped up in your chest. The logical part of your brain told you that he meant it platonically, that he liked you the way he liked Rick or Glenn, but the optimistic part convinced you that he didn't, that your feelings weren't one-sided. That the archer might like you too.

"Probably," you finally responded, feeling your face ablaze with the heat that spread across it.

"Nah, my taste is immaculate," he replied, looking at you carefully, closely monitoring your reactions. Daryl knew that was a risky response, and he was nervous about your reaction, but he hoped for the best.

You gulped nervously. Daryl's response made your stomach do somersaults and your heart pound at the speed of light.

"Yeah? I still think your taste is shit," you finally managed to respond, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. Sometimes you wondered if Daryl knew what effect he had on you. If he knew how many nights dreams of him plagued your mind.

Daryl's chuckle broke the tension between you, and you felt like you could breathe again.

"Whatever ya say." Daryl took the bottle from the middle and took the first swig since the game started. Your eyes drifted to the trickle of whiskey that spilt from the bottle and trickled down his lips and chin, and you had the sudden urge to lean forward and kiss the spill away.

"You don't like Scooby Doo. That automatically means that you have shitty taste," you retorted, your breathing slightly heavier than before.

You leaned forward to take the bottle from him, but he held it out of your reach. You looked at him in confusion but he simply smirked at you, getting up from his position on the ground to stand tall over you.

"Daryl," you warned, laughing as you got up as well. "It's my whiskey. Give it back."

"Nah, I think Imma hold on to it," he said playfully, holding the bottle above his head. He laughed at you when you jumped to try and grab it from his hands.

"Daryl!" You exclaimed with a laugh, trying everything to retrieve the bottle, but to no avail. "Come on, don't be so mean!"

"Ya said I had terrible taste. Well, I like this whiskey, so tha' means it must be terrible as well, since I like it, so ya probably won't like it," he responded playfully, his eyes alight with mischief.

One final jump to grab it proved to be the wrong move. You accidentally slipped when your feet hit the ground, sending you falling onto Daryl. The archer reacted swiftly, dropping the bottle to to catch you with both hands. The bottle shattered on the ground instantly while you and Daryl toppled onto the floor, the force from your fall catching him off guard. Daryl layed flat on his back with you on top of him, his hands still on your waist from when he tried to steady you before you fell.

You looked into Daryl's ocean coloured eyes and felt your heart speed up. Daryl's eyes darted to your lips for a second before going back to your eyes, but you had caught him. In a sudden burst of confidence, you lowered your face and crashed your lips onto his, catching him off guard for the second time that night.

Daryl stiffened for a moment, surprised at the unexpected action from you, but soon relaxed and slowly kissed you back. He brought one of his hands to the back of your head and drew you closer, his lips slowly moving against yours. His other hand hesitantly trailed from your waist to the small of your back, gently moving over the exposed skin from the ride up of your shirt.

The kiss ended too prematurely for your taste, but oxygen was still a necessity. You slowly pulled back, looking into his eyes with surprise and delight. Daryl looked back at you in adoration.

"Wha' was tha' fer?" He whispered breathlessly, his chest heaving slightly.

"Just because," you replied honestly, still baffled at the fact that you had just kissed Daryl, surprised that you had mustered up the courage to do so in a matter of seconds.

"Well, if ya think tha's gonna prove to me tha' my taste is shit, then yer gonna need to try somethin' different. Tha' didn't work. If anythin', it jus' proved to me tha' my taste is amazin'."

You laughed and shook your head. "You talking about me or Scooby Doo?"

Daryl started sitting up, making you slide down his stomach to sit in his lap. "Definitely ya," he responded, wrapping his arms around you.

"So, you like like me, huh, Dixon?" You teased, linking your arms around his neck.

Daryl hummed and gave you a small smirk. "Mhm," he hummed, giving you a soft peck on the lips. "Wish I'd known tha' talkin' shit 'bout some cartoon dog would make this happen. Woulda done it a lot sooner."

"Don't you ever talk shit about that dog in my presence ever again," you warned with a playful glare, eliciting a chuckle from the archer.

"Jus' to be sure, this means somethin', righ'?" He asked, his tone turning serious. A look of doubt spread across his face. "This wasn't jus' a heat of the moment thing for ya?"

You shook your head, bringing one of your hands to cup his cheek. "Did you mean it? That you like me? And I don't mean in a platonic way."

"I did," he confirmed, leaning into your touch.

"That's good," you said with a small, shy smile. "Because I like you too. Even if you have crappy taste."

Daryl's eyes filled with relief and he let out a small laugh before leaning in to kiss you again. The kiss was brief, but it was sweet and tender. When he pulled away, he brought a hand up to push your hair out of your face.

"Never thought this would happen. I thought ya dun' like me like tha'."

You leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "No more of that. I don't plan on letting you go now that I have you, Daryl Dixon. You're stuck with me."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, 'm stuck." With that, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours in a feverish kiss. He flipped you over so that you were on your back, making you giggle against his lips.

You were definitely thankful for Scooby Doo and that whiskey bottle right now.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #twd daryl #the walking dead #twd

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juyeonszn · 6 months

Text

JUST FOR ME

PAIRING ji changmin x f!reader

WORD COUNT 1.26k

GENRES kinda fluff ﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, apparently ji changmin has a secret, established relationship, a whisker away ref <3, dacryphilia lol, making out, oral (m!receiving), face fucking lol, cum eating lol, lmk if i missed anything!

SUMMARY ji changmin had a secret.

MORE hellaur hellaur!! i cannot believe i’ve written 8 of these in the past month like i’m actually sick in the head. but maybe u guys are even sicker for reading them idk… once fawntober is over i think i might spontaneously combust. ANYWAY i would like to dedicate this to the resident jichang lover <3 beam <3 consider this a late birthday gift <3 if u enjoyed pls rb!

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

Ji Changmin had a secret.

A very big secret that he would never dare tell to anyone else. Not his friends. Not even you. Whether it was because he wanted to keep this to himself, take it to the grave type beat, or because he was embarrassed— the world may never know.

But as you cuddle into his side, sniffling over this stupid animated movie, he realizes that his big secret might be harder to keep to himself than he thought.

He’s seen A Whisker Away with you probably hundreds of times by now, and he’s seen you cry each and every time, but for some reason this is the one that gets to him. The sight of your pretty tears trickling down your cheeks, eyes slightly puffy and lips pouty, has his thinking clouded. Typical Y/N behavior, living in his mind rent free like it was your career.

He hopes the thick comforter of your bed hides just how turned on he is, licking his lips when a tear drips down your chin and onto your chest. Don’t even get him started on your pajama choice. Nothing but a thin camisole and flimsy linen shorts. Did you know that you were just one action away from sending him into cardiac arrest?

Changmin doesn’t even notice that the movie has ended and the credits are displayed, eyes still trained on the stray teardrops rolling down your sternum. It’s not until you’re reaching above your head to stretch, leg bumping into his hard on.

You turn to him with wide eyes and a gasp. “Changmin! No way you’re fucking horny right now.”

“I’m not?” His response comes out more like a question than a statement, so of course you don’t believe him in the slightest. You give him a pointed look.

“How could you possibly be hard after watching that?” Your eyebrows raise, judging him wholeheartedly without knowing the full story. Though, he’s almost certain you’d still judge him then, too. Who wouldn’t? Getting turned on by the sight of his girlfriend crying wasn’t exactly something that people would think is normal.

“That’s— uh— that’s not what— you know what, never mind. We can just go to sleep if you’re tired—” Changmin really wished you weren’t so persistent sometimes. Then again, your persistence was the reason you were together in the first place.

“No, I’m wide awake now,” you simper, a sly little smile that looks out of place paired with the tear streaks on your cheeks. “Lemme help you, Min.”

You peel back the covers, straddling his lap. Changmin groans, throwing his head back when your barely clothed warmth presses down on his erection. Your fingers card through his hair before you lean in to kiss him.

It’s slow at first, lips moving together gently as you work yourself up. One of the things Changmin loved about you was the fact that you were always so eager to please. He had a tendency of not asking for anything unless absolutely necessary, but with your keen sense of perception, you just knew when he needed a little extra care. Like right now, for example.

His hands find your hips, grinding them into his own as he nips your bottom lip. You sigh into the kiss, parting just enough to catch your breath. He slips his fingers under the waistband of your shorts but you shake your head.

“Mm-mm,” you start to pepper kisses all over his face and jaw, trailing down his neck. “Let me do the work. You just relax, okay?”

The service top he was, Changmin thought it would be a bit difficult to just let you have the reins. However, he pulls away his hands anyway, allowing you to exhibit your magic. You smile contentedly, shimmying down so your face was level with his crotch.

Changmin watches with bated breath as you haul his sweatpants and underwear down his legs in one go. He fists your hair in a makeshift ponytail, darting out his tongue to wet his lips when you leave a sweet kiss to the tip of his cock. He hisses as you wrap your hands around the base, pumping his length agonizingly slow.

His hips buck up into your hands, teeth gritted when your lips envelope the head. Your tongue drags over his slit, collecting the precum that’s begun to form. You moan when the taste of him settles, one hand sliding under his t-shirt to claw at his abdomen.

Finally, after what felt like eternity, you take him fully into the warm coziness of your mouth. Every time you gave Changmin head, you tried not to push yourself to swallow him wholly. You were afraid of embarrassing yourself by not being able to fit his impressive size down your throat. This time was different. You felt the need to provide him the best pleasure possible.

He thinks he might combust, focus zeroed in on your plush lips going further down his length and meeting your hand. Your eyes flutter open, making contact with his as you twist your wrist and start to bob your head. Changmin groans, using his free hand to fist at the sheets below you. You looked so fucking filthy like this, ass perked up in the air as you sucked him off like your life depended on it. But good God, you managed to still look absolutely gorgeous, even with the drool dribbling along your chin.

Instinctively, his grip on your hair tightens and he pushes your head down, forcing you to engulf his cock more than you already had. You gag, but steel yourself to power through. Changmin accepts his fate and lets himself loosen up, a conniving grin spreading across his lips.

“Gonna let me fuck your face, baby?” He coos, bending his knees and putting his feet flat on the bed.

You moan in approval, pulling off just to respond. “Mhm. Want you to feel good.”

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” he bites his lip, bringing your face closer to kiss your swollen lips, your hand still jerking him off. “I’m gonna ruin you.”

He can taste himself on your mouth and it makes his release that much more exciting. You break apart, returning to what you were doing previously. This time, however, Changmin doesn’t hold himself back. He starts to fuck up into the wet heat of your mouth, cock sliding down your throat with a choked groan following each thrust.

Your eyes water, and before you know it, tears are tracking on your cheeks. He nearly whines, all sense of restraint lost completely as you continue to wrap around him, tongue swirling around the tip and running along each vein. Changmin feels insane, his orgasm building up higher and higher the more you take him— the more you cry for him.

It’s when one of your teardrops drips onto his stomach, your thumb swiping across his hip bone, that he cums into your mouth with a moan so out of character, you almost join him. You try to swallow everything he gives you, but it’s so much that you have to pull off of him, feeling it slip down the side of your mouth. Your hips roll into the bed to release some of the friction that formed.

Changmin wipes away the mixture of saliva and cum on your chin, stamping another slow kiss to your lips. You straddle him once again, whimpering when he presses up into your already sensitive cunt.

He smiles, fingers dipping into your shorts. “You did so well, baby. Let me return the favor.”

#the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz changmin #the boyz q #tbz changmin #tbz q #ji changmin x reader #ji changmin smut #changmin x reader #changmin smut #q x reader #q smut #juyeonszn #fawntober.2023🎃

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noramoons · 4 months

Text

what lies beneath | k.hj

pairing: kim hongjoong x g/n reader

genre: siren au, artist!reader

includes: angst, some fluff

rating: T/13+

warnings: language, slight horror themes, mentions/descriptions of food, Family Issues as a plot point (💀)

word count: 13.5k

summary: there’s a pair of eyes blinking up at you from below the pier. you think you know who (or what, really) they belong to—but you might be too afraid to admit it.

You had been sure of several things before you spent the summer at the beach with your cousins.

One, that you were not an "outside" person. You couldn't stand fishing, you hated lying underneath the sun to tan—you could swim well enough, you supposed, to keep yourself afloat—but that was it.

Two, that there was nothing more embarrassing than being a tourist in a town you'd practically grown up in.

And three, that sea monsters of any kind were absolutely, completely, 100% fictional.

It was fun to pretend as a child, sure—you remember plenty of summers playing in the ocean with your friends, or listening to your uncle tell scary stories to you and your siblings about the creatures he'd seen in his time in the navy or deep-sea fishing—but that was it. Pretending. You knew that just as well as the rest of them did.

Which is why it's now somewhat embarrassing to be back here—spending yet another summer with your extended family, and now seeing your younger cousins now running up and down the side of your uncle's small pontoon boat. "Fish-man!" one of them cries out, pointing towards the water. "I saw it! I swear!"

The other one nods. "He was huge!"

Your uncle laughs from the wheel behind you. "I bet he was! I always heard they like to catch the sides of the waves the boats make for speed—can't get too close, though, or they'll get chomped by the propellers!" He makes a chomping gesture by opening and closing his fist, and your cousins giggle.

"You heard?" you ask, turning around from the seat near the bow. "I thought you always said you'd seen those fish-men with your own two eyes back in the day, Uncle."

He smirks at you. "Those were the deep-sea days. I've never seen any creatures this close to shore, but who knows?" he shrugs, winning at you. "Maybe we'll get lucky."

Right. You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you turn back around, the spray of the saltwater coming up on either side refreshing enough to distract you from the stories your cousins are now hurriedly making up behind you.

The rest of the day is decidedly less painful; your uncle is considerate enough to let you stay on the boat when he anchors it on a nearby island, so you're able to at least attempt relaxing while your cousins run amuck on the shore. By the time you're finally pulling back in to the dock behind your uncle's house on the bay, you can already see the hues of pink and orange growing in the sky as the sun begins its descent beneath the horizon.

Your cousins make a mad dash for the house once they're within leaping distance of the dock, and you let out an exasperated sigh when you realize it's just you and your uncle left on the boat. You know exactly what that means—all the work's been left to you.

He grins at you. "You remember how to tie her to the dock, don't you?" As if this hasn't been your job on-and-off for the last ten years.

You offer a faint smile in response, but you keep yourself from saying anything negative while you pull out the ropes from beneath the seats, tying them into the knots you know from memory around the poles on the dock. You don't want to complain in front of your uncle—he's never been anything less than kind to you, especially letting you stay at his house this summer out of nowhere when you told him you needed a place to stay for a while, even when it's been over five years since your last summer here. No questions asked, although you're sure he's curious.

You might tell him the truth. Eventually.

His voice suddenly interrupts the stream of thoughts in your mind. "If you've got it covered, I'm gonna head inside and start on dinner."

You nod absentmindedly, tucking the last rope into the beginning of its knot. "What are we eating?"

He smiles at you. "Guess you'd better hurry up and find out."

You roll your eyes at him, but in your sudden rush to finish the knot, you don't complete it nearly as tightly as you should—and you can already feel the boat drifting to one side from the loose knot.

You sigh at your own impatience, but you start the knot over again anyway, pulling on the other ropes to line the boat up with the side of the dock again before you start, checking the angle into the water to make sure it'll be as close to perfect as possible so you can hurry up and go inside, and it's then that you see it.

There's a face in the water—and it isn't yours.

No. You're seeing things. After a long day in the sun, you know it's not unheard of for your eyes to play tricks on you looking into the water. You draw your focus back to completing the knot, shaking the unusual thoughts out of your head of what you know you couldn't have possibly seen.

When the knot's finally complete, you cast your gaze into the water beside the boat one final time—and you realize, in stunned horror, that you'd been right before. There is a face, a face you can just barely see in the water as you peer over the edge of the dock—and it isn't your reflection. No, the angles of the jawline, the cheekbones, the chin are all far too sharp and precise to be yours. To be human.

He blinks up at you, far too innocently for someone—something that has been holding its breath underwater for at least the past five minutes.

You don't know how long the two of you stare at each other. It could be minutes, hours—you really aren't sure. You're finding yourself practically lost in the eyes of the being before you, dark and abysmal and inviting all at the same time—this, you imagine, must be what drowning feels like. Completely helpless.

It's then that you realize your ankles are touching the water. That's strange—you'd been sitting atop the dock just a moment ago. When did you get in the water?

You feel as if you've just awoken from a dream. You don't know how you've gotten here so suddenly, but you've definitely moved—you've turned around to face the dock, and your arms are the only thing keeping you above the water, your legs submerged up to your knees.

You quickly scramble back out of the water and heave your body back onto the dock, making sure all your limbs are still attached before staring back into the bay beneath you, looking for that face beneath the water again—but it's gone. Whatever it was has completely vanished, leaving nothing but the soft lapping of the waves against the shore in its wake.

Your mind races to find an explanation. You've been in the sun for hours. You must not have had much sleep last night. Your cousins are driving you insane and they've finally pushed you past the brink. One of those, surely, has to be the answer for whatever the hell you've just seen.

It's all you can think about during dinner—you hardly touch the clam chowder your uncle had prepared. He notices the small helping you've poured for yourself when you sit down at the table, and you see him frown out of the corner of your eye. "Feeling alright, Y/N?"

You nod quickly. Too quickly. "I'm fine. Think I might've been out in the sun for too long today—I'll probably just get some water after dinner and head to bed."

He nods, visibly relaxing at your words. "Ah. That certainly can happen—I saw far too many colleagues faint back in the day after a long shift. It's brutal, that sun. That reminds me of one particular instance, actually—couldn't have been less than twenty years ago, I'll bet, when..."

He launches into another fishing anecdote, much to the delight of your cousins, while you continue to mentally spiral for the duration of dinner, locked in your own thoughts and what you know you couldn't have possibly seen. Your behavior, however, means your uncle doesn't mind at all when you go up to your room early—and when night finally falls and everyone else has gone to bed, no one notices you creeping back downstairs, either.

You have to know. You'll never be able to go to sleep tonight if you can't confirm whatever the hell you saw in the water earlier.

Your stomach interrupts your thoughts, piercing the quiet living room with an unfortunate grumble.

"Shit," you swear softly to yourself. You're hungry—it's no wonder. You barely ate dinner, and you only picked at a few snacks on the boat earlier. It certainly won't assuage your fears if you scare away whatever that thing was if your stomach growls the minute you step outside.

You quickly grab the first thing your eyes land on out of the first shelf in the refrigator—an apple, before finally striding over to the door and making your way back outside as quietly and nimbly as you can.

You practically run back to the edge of the dock, peering into the inky blackness of the water illuminated simply by the moonlight, only to find your own reflection staring back at you. There's nothing.

And you want to be reassured by that fact. You had to have been seeing things earlier, then—a result of the afternoon spent under the blistering sun, doing things to your eyes and your mind, and yet—

You have to check. You'll just dip a toe in, maybe—you're already barefoot, anyway. Nothing bites at your toe when you do, sitting down at the edge of the dock and letting the waves lap at your skin.

Well. You suppose to be really sure, you'll have to get in the water. It feels much better now than it did earlier today, you think as you lower yourself in up to your waist, still holding onto the dock with one hand, apple in the other. You don't remember the water ever feeling this good—this inviting. You wonder what it would feel like to go all the way up to your neck. Maybe even to go all the way underwater, to feel it enveloping every inch.

That last thought particularly entices you, so you let go of the dock, holding your hand (and the apple) above the water while you submerge the rest of your body beneath the waves. You wonder how long you can hold your breath underwater. Does it even matter, though? It wouldn't be so bad to stay here like this forever—

"...What is this?"

You're broken out of your thoughts by a muffled voice above you, piercing the silence and suddenly reminding you how long you've been underwater. Panic sets in almost immediately as you kick toward the surface, gasping for breath when your head breaches the waves again, breathing in sweet, fresh air as your arms attempt to tread water.

Well—arm. Singular. Someone else is holding on to your other arm, you realize far too late—the arm that's currently clutching that poor, stupid apple. A hand is wrapped around your wrist, and you feel dread sinking through your chest when your eyes follow the hand back to its owner. Perhaps that dread is why you aren't at all surprised when you once again lock eyes with the creature from earlier, this time his head and chest above water.

He looks at your sputtering form, unsurprised, before turning back to stare at the apple in your hand, head tilting to the side. "What is this?" you hear him repeat. His voice is incredibly raspy—as if he hasn't used it in years.

His lack of recognition towards you is almost irritating—as if he's disappointed that you exist. "...What?" you finally ask.

He brings another hand out of the water to tap at the apple. "This," he says. "I don't know what this is. Tell me."

You're still struggling for breath. "I...I'll tell you what it is if you let me back onto the dock."

He turns back to face you—quickly, head shifting far too quickly for something human. "No," he says, grip on your wrist unrelenting. "Tell me what it is."

Shit. "It's an apple," you say, frustration suddenly blooming in your chest. You're going to die because of an apple. Because you couldn't be bothered to eat your uncle's clam chowder for dinner. What the hell is wrong with you? If you ever get out of this, you swear on every god listening that you'll eat second helpings of every meal that man makes for the rest of your life. "You eat it."

Apparently you eat it to this creature means you can eat it—because he's lunging forward suddenly, bringing his teeth that look much more like that of a shark's than like the teeth in your own mouth onto the apple in your palm, tearing away a bite and swallowing it whole. God, you hope you aren't about to meet the same fate.

He makes a face, turning to look at you. "It's weird."

You heave a sigh. This is insane, you think. Maybe you really did lose your mind earlier on the boat—it's all your cousins' fault. Has to be. Hearing that constant, nonstop chatter about the overseas vacation they just went on (their third this year alone), and the toys the twins got for their birthdays, and the teacher at school they really don't like, has finally made you snap. "I don't know what to tell you," you say. "You said you'd never had it before. And you're stealing—I was going to eat that."

He lets go of your wrist from his damp grasp. "Hmm. You can have the rest of it, I guess."

He has let go of you. Every logical nerve in your body is screaming at you to start swimming, to pedal back up to the dock as fast as you can and scream for your uncle—but you don't. He let go of you. He had just wanted the apple.

You stare at him. You'd been right before—every feature of his is far too sharp to be human. The edge of his nose, the line of his jaw, the angles of his cheekbones—everything except his eyes. They're dark, as dark as the night sky behind you, but they're soft. They hold none of the sharpness of what you can see of the rest of his body.

You think back to the beginning of the day—to the stories of the fish-men your uncle had tried to spook your cousins with as you drove around the inlet. Damn him to hell—he was right.

You aren't sure who you're angrier at—him, for being correct about something so utterly insane, or you, for not being smart enough to realize he was telling the truth.

The creature in the water notices you staring at him. He blinks at you, tilting his head to the side. His gaze hasn't left you for a single instant, but there's something else spreading across his face now, tugging up the side of his lips in a faint smile.

"You aren't afraid," he says now, the rasp in his voice gradually beginning to ebb away.

You notice him watching your arms treading water now, apple bobbing beside you, but you don't say anything about it. You also don't say anything about how he isn't treading water but is still staying perfectly afloat—something else is propelling him to stay upright. And you think you may have an idea of what it is. "I...I don't know. I don't think so," is the only thing you can offer in response. "I don't know what you are."

He thinks for a moment. "A...a siren was what your people called us the last time we went to the surface."

A siren. You'll admit you didn't always pay constant attention in school, especially reading the Odyssey nearly three years ago, but you have a clear enough recollection of what these creatures were. Their entire purpose was to lure sailors to their deaths with their charms, wrecking their ships with a few words of a song.

"We couldn't come up to the surface very often then," he adds thoughtfully, remembering. "Too much of that black smoke in the air. That's what my father said, anyway."

Black smoke? You're confused for a moment before it dawns on you—you distinctly remember your uncle telling you that the railroad used to lie almost perfectly adjacent to the bay his house now resides on, back in the day before they'd decided to reroute the tracks to make room for the neighborhoods they were building. And if the trains the siren in front of you remembers were still billowing out black smoke...

Christ, how old is he, anyway?

"I'm supposed to drown you," he says plainly.

You furrow your brow at him. "You can try, I guess. I used to be pretty good at swimming."

He laughs at that too. The sound of his laugh is unbearably musical—light and gentle and not at all comparable to the rasp his voice had been at first, nor is it fitting for a creature who had just said he was here to kill you. "I almost did. That's how you ended up in the water—don't you see?"

Oh. Fuck. He must have been in your head, practically—convincing you to get in the water. It's what'd he done earlier in the day too, you realize—when you'd gotten in all the way up to your ankles without realizing. "How...how'd you do that?"

He shrugs. "I just hum. Some of my brothers are good at singing, but I think humming does the same thing at a much quieter rate. Harder to get caught that way."

"Does that happen to you often?" you ask. "Getting caught?"

He seems to ponder that for a moment. "No. I...I didn't have any plans on telling you this, but I've never actually drowned anyone before. You've been my first attempt."

You scoff at that. "I guess you're not a very good siren, then."

He stares at you, and you wonder for a split second if you've just made a fatal mistake by running your mouth, like you always do—but the edges of his lips quirk up in a strange smile. "That's not all we do, you know. We were the record-keepers of the ocean, back in the days before that fool Homer decided to only focus on our...occasional people-drowning habits. Once you become known for something, no one really cares what you used to do."

You blink at him. "Sorry, I...are you trying to make me feel bad for you? After you tried to drown me?"

His smile widens. "But I didn't drown you! I decided not to. Because I wanted to know what that was in your hand." He looks down at the apple bobbing in the water between the two of you. "Do you have anything else like this?"

You let out an incredulous laugh. "Why? Do you want to go through all the fruit in our fridge and take a single bite out of each one?"

He cocks his head slightly at you. "Why would I do that?"

Because it's what you just did, you want to yell at him—but you don't. Some semblance of common sense must be returning to you, now that you know you aren't in mortal danger.

He continues anyway. "I want to go back to our record-keeping ways. I like learning things. I've never spoken to a human before now—I've already learned so much. I know what an apple is. I know how easy it is to tell you to drown yourself."

You try to ignore the way your blood freezes cold for an instant at that last comment—and the way he gives you a knowing look after it leaves his lips. You think you may have a better understanding of what your situation is, now. "So you decided not to drown me because you wanted to know about the apple. You...you're only going to keep me alive if I keep bringing you things that you find interesting?"

But he shakes his head no. "You can go back up to the land now. I won't stop you. I was just suggesting that you'd think about doing me a favor, since I did one for you."

Deciding not to drown me isn't much of a favor—but you keep that to yourself. "You really wouldn't stop me if I went back up the dock? If I never set foot in the water again? Won't you...I don't know, get in trouble with the siren police or whoever you answer to?"

A bemused expression flashes across his face. "No, I don't answer to anyone. We used to travel in packs—and I think some still do, especially in the southern sects of the Pacific, but most of us are solitary, now. I do whatever I want."

“Must be nice," you reply before you can think to stop yourself.

He frowns a little at that. "What do you mean? You're the masters of the world as we know it, aren't you?" There may be a little edge of mocking at the end of that sentence, but neither of you comment on it.

Instead, you take one arm out of the water briefly to try to wave your words away, accidentally flicking a few drops of water on his face—but he doesn't even flinch. "Look—I shouldn't have said that,” you say.

"Who could possibly be telling you what to do?" he asks again. "I'm serious."

Now you do let a small laugh pass your lips. "You'd be surprised."

He just blinks. "Surprise me, then."

He did say he liked to learn. "Listen, I can't—" You cut off your own sentence when you see a light on the second story window flick on out of your peripheral vision. Shit. "I've got to go."

He casts his gaze upwards to the soft light emanating from the house. "I see," you hear him say as you plant your elbows on the edge of the dock, hauling your body back up to the wooden surface. Once you're out of the water, a sudden thought occurs to you—you never even asked the siren for his name.

Who cares? a voice in your head cries out. Your conscience, most likely—whatever scraps of common sense you have left. That thing was going to drown you. You don't need his name; you're never going to see him again.

Well—that you aren't entirely sure of, even if you may not be completely prepared to admit it. As much as you had apparently intrigued him, he had certainly kept your interest too. For crying out loud—he's a goddamn siren. How often did you get to have a sit-down conversation with a sea creature you had been perfectly convinced wasn't real an hour ago?

Even more intriguing, you think, was that air of freedom about him. I do whatever I want, he'd said. You can't imagine the last time anything like that left your mouth—or if anything like it ever had. You're drawn to that feeling of freedom—either out of jealousy or a desire to live vicariously through it, you aren't sure. But you do want to experience it again.

So you turn back around, the question of his name on the tip of your tongue—but it never gets any further. By the time you're looking back into the water below you, he's gone. Had you imagined the entire thing all along, you wonder for a brief instant?

But that thought shatters when you hear a splash to your right, at the very edge of the canal before it opens back up into the ocean, and you see the edge of a long, blue tail flicker in the moonlight before it disappears below the surface.

You let out a short laugh of disbelief at the sight. And the small smile that lingers on your lips—even as you hurry back towards the house, open the back door as quietly as possible, hurry back upstairs, throw your wet clothes in the bathroom, and jump back in your bed in a fresh pair of pajamas—doesn't fade away for quite some time.

Three days pass before you see him again.

You'd run out to the dock three nights in a row after everyone in the house had fallen asleep, peering into the water only to be met with the ripples of your own reflection staring back up at you. Disappointed, you had trudged back to the back porch and snuck back up to your room, lingering confusions about that damn siren swirling around in your head. You won't go check again tomorrow night. That entire meeting with him was apparently a one-time thing. It was a miracle that he'd let you live, anyway—a miracle that you aren't ever supposed to see again.

You still find yourself padding down to the dock on the fourth night—and this time, you aren't alone.

There's an apple sitting on the very last wooden plank on the end of the dock, water dripping off the edge and forming a small puddle around it. You almost let out a laugh at the sight, but it's swallowed by the yelp you accidentally let out when the siren's head emerges suddenly from beneath the surface. He stares at you, unblinking as he hauls his forearms onto the edge of the dock, propelling himself forward to look up at you.

"You're surprised," he says.

You take a breath to calm yourself before speaking. "You're observant."

He blinks once. Twice. "That's for you," he says, gesturing towards the singular fruit on the last plank of wood. "Since I ate the other one."

You look down at the apple, deciding you're safer not asking where he got this one—and then you look lower, peering down off the edge. The siren has pulled himself up to rest against the dock, which means he's only about halfway submerged into the water now. You see his arms, crossed on top of each other to support him resting on top of the dock. You see his chest, his abdomen, droplets of water still rolling down the toned muscles. And you swallow the gasp that threatens to escape you when you finally lock eyes on the dark blue tail that begins past his waist, swishing back and forth as it glistens with every beam of moonlight it reflects.

If he knows the cause of your sudden amazement, he doesn't say anything about it. Instead, he speaks again. "I wasn't sure if you'd be back."

You manage to pull your eyes back up towards his. "I, um...I realized I never got your name the other night. I figured you didn't just go by 'siren.'"

He smirks. "No, I don't. But I've never had to say it out loud before, like this." He thinks about it for a moment. "Hongjoong."

Hongjoong. "Hongjoong," you repeat.

You aren't sure if it's the moonlight playing tricks on you, or if his cheeks really do twinge a shade pink at the repetition from your lips. "What's yours?"

Now it's your turn to smirk a little. "You won't, like...gain some kind of terrible power over me once you know my name, right?" You think you remember reading about the fae having that kind of ability in school, but that was ages ago. And at the time, you didn't think you'd ever need to remember information about creatures you were certain didn't exist.

The siren—Hongjoong—shakes his head. "Not that I know of. I can look into it in our historical records though, if you'd like."

You shake your head quickly. Probably better off not knowing.

But you do tell him your name, and he smiles too. "Pretty," he says, and you think you understand how someone like him could talk someone like you into walking off a boat—but the thought doesn't scare you the way it might have the other night. He's so beautiful, you're realizing—almost impossibly so. To hear him say he thinks you're pretty, or at least your name is, almost makes you want to laugh.

Hongjoong pulls you out of your thoughts when he taps the space on the dock next to the apple with one hand. "Well? Are you going to take it?"

Oh. "Oh!" you say, bending over to pick up the fruit. "Sure. Thank you for bringing this to me—" and then, before you can stop yourself from the most sudden and peculiar act of boldness in your entire life so far— "do you...I don't know, want anything in return for it?"

He seems taken aback by your proposition at first, but only a moment passes before that soft, self-assured grin appears across his features again. "What would you want to give me?"

Christ. Why did you say that? "Well—um..." You glance down at your shoes with wet sand still caked to the sides, the green charm on the end of one shoelace, the fraying ends of the jacket you'd hastily pulled over your shoulders before walking outside tonight, before you see—

You quickly work it off of your wrist and hand it over to him. "Here," you say, sitting down at the dock's edge and handing Hongjoong the bracelet you've been wearing since you came to your uncle's house this summer. "You can keep it."

Hongjoong takes the bracelet delicately from your outstretched hand. He peers at it in the moonlight. "What is it?"

"It's a bracelet," you explain. "You can just wear it on your wrist for decoration—it doesn't have to mean anything. This one, um...it was actually from my parents, but believe me—it doesn't mean anything," you finish, trying (and failing) not to let that all-too-familiar drip of malicious venom back into your voice at the mention of the people who raised you. Who bought you this bracelet—a week-late birthday gift from your mother who had missed it while she was on a 'girls trip' in Italy. And yet, you still turned out like this—

Hongjoong continues studying the bracelet, poring over each individual charm. If he notices your attitude about your parents, he doesn't say anything—but after that first conversation you'd had with him, you think he may understand what you mean anyway.

The silence is starting to make you drowsy, so you move to stand back up. "Look, Hongjoong, I'd better head back. It's late. Will I, um—" Why does he make you so nervous now? "Will I see—"

"What are you bringing next time?" Hongjoong interrupts.

You blink. "What?"

He taps the bracelet with one finger. "I'll bring something else the next time I see you, if you bring something too."

He had said he liked to learn. "Okay," you say. There's a sudden warmth in your chest at the thought of seeing him again, even despite the cool breeze suddenly drifting off from the sea. "When will you be back?"

Hongjoong tilts his head to one side, thinking. "The next half moon. It should be in a few nights. I'll need time to find something good for you," he says, grinning.

You can't fight the grin that tugs at your own lips. "I'll be here, then."

You think about how the first two weeks of your summer had dragged by. Every day had felt like an unending loop of babysitting your cousins while your uncle went to work, of making an effort to laugh at said uncle's intentionally not-funny jokes, of picking up groceries and running errands and getting lost in the monotony of the mundane—but the second half of your summer is the complete opposite.

Going out and meeting Hongjoong by the end of the dock goes from a once a week occurrence to a nightly routine. And it doesn't stop at just bringing each other different little trinkets and knick-knacks and snacks that you find—you and Hongjoong both discover that you're better conversationalists than you'd previously thought. The two of you find yourself talking for hours about anything you can think of; you learn that Hongjoong's family is several times larger than yours, and that sirens swim further south when the water gets cold in the winter ("the same as everything else in the sea with any sense," he points out). And you tell Hongjoong about you, about all the summers you spent here with your older siblings when you were all still children, about the nights you snuck out with them and went to the gas station for ice cream—both of you hanging on each other's every word.

You find yourself looking forward to seeing him all day. You're in far better spirits than you were at the beginning of the summer, your uncle teases on several occasions, but you can't find it in yourself to be bothered.

You probably could try to make it slightly less obvious, though. After nearly a month of spending almost all your nights with Hongjoong, you find yourself one midsummer day back on the pontoon boat with your cousins and uncle, looking for an island to go for a picnic on—just like you had been that day you'd first seen him. You still keep to yourself on the bow of the boat the same way you did at the beginning of the summer, but your thoughts are full of nothing but the siren, now. You'd found an unfinished scrapbook of you and your siblings from years ago in your uncle's garage last night, and you're practically beaming at the thought of showing it to Hongjoong tonight. You wonder if he'll be able to pick out which one is you in the photos if you don't tell him. Maybe you'll—

"There's something in the water!" one of your cousins cries out, pointing towards the right side of the boat.

You practically shoot out of your seat. "Where?" you ask, rushing over to her side of the boat.

She blinks up at you, caught off-guard by your sudden enthusiasm. "Um...right next to the boat." She points again with a shrug. "There was a face, but it's gone now. I swear I'm telling the truth."

You nod, giving her a knowing grin. "I believe you."

Her eyes widen, a smile growing across her own features. "You do?"

Your uncle laughs from the wheel of the boat behind you. "You mean your reflection, bub?"

Your cousin shakes her head quickly. "No, it wasn't. It was something else, I know it."

Your uncle looks back and forth between the two of you, landing his gaze firmly on you. "Well—if you see anything else, you just let me know. It's almost the end of the summer, you know," he points out. "I've kept you all under my watch this long—I don't want anything to happen to either of you."

The little girl next to you nods before going back to her seat with the rest of your cousins, but you stay planted at the side of the boat for a while with them.

It's almost the end of the summer, you know.

What's been wrong with you for the last several weeks? Befriending a siren, of all things—where did you think that was going to go? Did you think you'd get to pack him up in your suitcase with everything else and take him home? Stupid, you think—you've been completely, utterly stupid. It's the only explanation for it.

No—that isn't entirely true, either. You may have been foolish, thinking you could keep a friendship with a siren, but that wasn't the only place those feelings were coming from. You've been distracting yourself, you realize now. You're trying to run, still—from the very same thing that led you to stay with your uncle this summer for the first time in years.

Maybe you've had your fill of running. It may be time to try facing the thing you've been avoiding all summer before it's too late—which is how you find yourself alone in the kitchen later that night, holding on to your uncle's home phone with one hand while you read her number to yourself off of your own phone (you're fairly certain she won't answer if she recognizes your number on her caller ID).

You almost hesitate before punching in the last number to dial and sealing your fate, but your uncle's words float back to you again. It's almost the end of the summer. What do you have to lose now, anyway?

You finish dialing the number.

She picks up on the fourth ring. "Hello?" She sounds slightly out of breath, as if she'd ran to catch the phone before it stopped ringing. The thought gives you a momentary sense of hope—maybe she won't hang up on you immediately once she realizes who's calling.

You take a deep breath before answering. "Hi, Mom," you say, slowly. "It's me."

She's silent for a long, long time—but she doesn't hang up. "...Oh," is the first thing your mother says. "I thought this was your uncle calling." You hear her take a breath, hesitating on saying what you know she's about to say. "I guess that's why you called from his phone, huh?"

You know there's no point answering that. "Mom, I...I wanted to talk to you, since the summer's almost over. I thought we could possibly talk about, um...about me staying at home for a little bit before school starts—or maybe coming home during winter break."

There's another long period of silence—and like the fool you are, you allow yourself to hope, for a brief moment, that she won't say exactly what you've known she was going to say the minute you dialed her number. "Hmm...no, Y/N, I don't really think that's a good idea." Your heart sinks, but she continues to push the dagger (that you practically handed her by making this call) further into your chest. "You know what—it's not really a good time right now, anyway. I'll talk to you some other time, alright?"

"Listen, Mom, I'm—"

Click.

She's hung up.

You told yourself earlier you wouldn't cry if she did this (you knew she was going to). And yet—you still can't fight those tears brimming at the edge of your eyelids, threatening to spill over. As you try to blink them away, your gaze is drawn towards the back window—towards the head of blue hair you can just barely see at the end of the dock, waiting expectantly for you already.

God. You cannot talk to Hongjoong right now—but you can't just blow him off entirely, either. You'll make something up, tell him you've gotten sick and can't see him for a few days, and hope he'll just forget about you and find some other human to trade apples for bracelets with.

You pad as quickly as you can down the end of the beach to the dock, peering over the edge to see Hongjoong's dark eyes looking up at you. "I can't talk tonight," you say sharply. "I'm sorry."

Hongjoong frowns. "What's wrong? Did you forget to bring something? It's okay, you know. I don't mind just talking to you. If you want."

Of course that's what he's concerned about. "No," you say, somewhat shakily. "I just can't, alright?"

You move to turn around, but the siren is a step ahead of you like always. He lunges forward onto the dock, grabbing ahold of your ankle with a strength you hadn't known he'd had. You think, for a moment, that if he had really wanted to drown you that day—he could have. "That's not good enough," he replies firmly, but his gaze softens the minute he sees your face closer. "I want to know what's wrong. Please."

It doesn't take much pleading from him for you to succumb to his wishes, so you relent, turning back around and sitting down on the edge of the dock. Hongjoong props himself up with his forearms before pushing the rest of his body up onto the dock, sitting upright and facing the sea beside you, just like you—something he's never done before. Only the last few scales on the edge of his tail just barely brush the water. "Tell me," he asks again, gentler this time.

So you do.

"It's my mother," you tell him, slowly. "Both my parents, really—they planned out me and my brothers' lives from the moment we were born. We were all supposed to be doctors, or lawyers, or scientists—something to make a ridiculous amount of money for them, just like they did for their parents. It was the only way to make them proud. They sent us to private schools and paid for expensive tutoring for years to ensure it, and they only spoke to us when we did well. They didn't want children—they wanted trophies. Things they could show off to their friends who were just as selfish and conceited as them. And they got them with my brothers—they did exactly what they were supposed to. Graduated law school or got their doctorates or PhDs, and now do nothing except work and get filthy rich. I'm the last one to fulfill what my parents had planned out for us. But I guess things don't always work out the way you planned," you add, somewhat bitterly.

Hongjoong keeps his gaze fixed on you. "No," he says, as gently as the water lapping at your ankles. "They don't. And...you don't want to do what they want you to."

You nod. "That's right. I don't. I think I should get a choice in what I make of my life, not slaving away forever at something someone else picked out for me. To do something of my own volition. And I told them so—and they told me I'd be on my own, forever, because of it."

"What do you want, then?" he asks.

You feel tears brushing against the edges of your eyelashes again. "It doesn't matter," you say, trying to keep your voice as steady as you can. "I'm screwed as it is. I have enough money saved for this semester of college, but they've cut me off entirely. I tried to call and make an attempt to patch things up tonight, but she wouldn't even listen to me. I'll be coming here every other semester to work, save up for the next semester, and stay with my uncle. I'm extremely grateful to at least have him on my side, to have someone who will allow me to stay with them—but I don't know if I'll ever get to see my parents or my brothers again. And I knew that would happen," you admit, voice definitely shaking now.

"I knew that was the choice I was making when I told them I didn't want to just be a stupid trophy for them to display, that I wanted to make something worthwhile, that I deemed worthwhile with my life. I knew it wouldn't be easy and that I was taking the harder route, but I thought I'd be able to just cut ties with them. Go no contact, and all that, but it...it's hard, Hongjoong," you tell him, tears rolling down your cheeks. "So fucking hard. And it's so stupid. Even after all this, after she's told me she doesn't want anything to do with me, now that I've chosen to 'waste my life away' and she 'doesn't know who I am anymore—' I still care what she thinks of me, for some stupid reason. She's still my mother—God, what am I supposed to do?"

Hongjoong turns to you almost instantly, cupping your face in both hands, and the sudden touch alone almost makes your tears stop falling. "Nothing stops the flow of the sea," he says, quietly. You want to move your gaze, to move your head away so your eyes aren't locked onto Hongjoong's so intensely, but he keeps you there anyway. "You just have to keep moving through it. With it. I think it's the same with your mother. It won't immediately be better tomorrow, just like how the sea isn't immediately perfectly calm after a typhoon—but it will be better, eventually. A little bit every day, as the waves return back to their normal rolling patterns."

"You don't think it's stupid?" you ask, quietly. "That I'm still so desperate to hold on to my mother, even if she's practically already thrown me away?"

Hongjoong shrugs. "Nonsensical, maybe. But not stupid. I don't think there's anything stupid about reaching out for someone who's taken care of you. My family has always been spread across the oceans—no matter where I go, it seems, I can find someone. I think it would be a much harder life if I was told none of them wanted to see me ever again. I'd feel stranded. And I haven't lived the same life as you, so I don't know what the exact circumstances are like, but I don't think it's a stupid aspiration. Just slightly nonsensical—but I think I'm realizing that a lot of things you do—that humans do," he corrects, "are that way."

That makes you laugh, even as his words settle into your ears and you begin to feel a kind of lightness in your chest. His world is so different from yours, you think. You're almost jealous of it, in a way.

And still, when he says things will be easier, eventually—you believe him.

"What is it that you want with your life?" he asks.

You laugh a little again. "It's cliché."

Hongjoong doesn't hesitate. "How would I know what your clichés are?" His hands are still firmly cupped against your cheeks.

Now the smile that ghosts across your face is real. Genuine. "Art," you say, quietly—as if you're afraid of admitting the truth even to him. "I love drawing—always have. It's all I've ever wanted to do. It used to be my escape when I came here in the summers with my family; I'd sneak away from everyone and paint on the beach for hours until my uncle would call for dinner. I begged for paint sets as a kid for birthday presents—even stole a set of charcoal pencils from the art room in middle school once. The teacher let me keep them even after finding out," you add, laughing a little. You bare your soul to Hongjoong, the parts of you that you've tried to squash for years but have failed to completely erase—like charcoal marks on a piece of paper that just won't quite go away.

He seems to ponder this for a moment. "Could you draw me?"

You laugh, feeling like a dam of relief is beginning to break within within you. He knows what has practically been your deepest, darkest secret for your entire life, and he doesn't want to shun you forever for it. "You know, I've always heard that's the one thing you aren't supposed to ask an artist."

Hongjoong blinks. "I didn't know that." There's only a single beat of silence before he asks, "Can you draw me anyway?"

"It won't be very good," you say with a shrug, smirk still tugging at the corners of your mouth. "I've never been very good at portraits. Landscapes and still life are easier for me."

He moves one hand to wrap around your wrist. "Try anyway."

The tenderness of the action coupled with his words—blunt as always, but reassuring in a way you've never known from him, never known from anyone—is enough to cause tears to prickle at the corners of your eyes again.

This time, Hongjoong notices, moving his free hand up your cheek to gently brush them away before they ever have a chance to cascade past your lashes. You see him sniff once, then look back up at you—realization dawning on his face.

"Salt," Hongjoong whispers in awe. "There's a piece of the sea in you, too."

That dam inside you breaks.

You meet his eyes, dark as the bottom of the ocean—feel the cool grip of his hand wrapped around your wrist and his fingers resting gently on your cheek, and you feel the pull towards him like the magnetism of the Earth's core.

When your lips land on his, it doesn't surprise either of you. It's a chaste, careful kiss at first. Hongjoong takes only a moment to breathe, forehead touching yours so lightly you almost wouldn't know he was there, before pulling you back to him and pressing his lips against yours again.

You've never experienced anything like it before—the tenderness of his hands on your skin, the softness of his lips on yours, his warm breath skating across your jaw. It's like he's everywhere, taking over every sensation—but not at all like that first time he had met you and influenced your thoughts. You feel fully in control right now. You're the one who's let him in.

If this is what drowning feels like, you think, you'd never complain.

You taste salt on your lips when you wake in the morning, and the sensation immediately sends a flurry of butterflies through your chest. A smile tugs at your mouth before you can even think to hide it from yourself.

Had last night even been real? Hongjoong reassuring you, kissing you so gently that you thought you might melt right into the water below the two of you—God, how could it not have been real? You could never have dreamed something like it.

If your uncle and cousins notice your uncharacteristically chipper mood at breakfast, a stark contrast to your melancholy behavior at dinner the night before, they don't say anything—but your uncle does look surprised when you offer to help load the cooler and towels onto the boat for the day.

"I've enjoyed having you here for the summer," your uncle tells you later that afternoon, when you've dropped anchor on a nearby island and your cousins are eating their lunches peacefully—the only time of the day you find that they're quiet. "Reminded me of the old days, with your brothers. It's been good to have you here."

You smile at him. "I've enjoyed being here," you admit, even if he doesn't know all the reasons why. "Thank you for letting me stay the summer. I really, um...really appreciate knowing there's someone who has my back."

His eyes crinkle in a soft smile. "Listen, Y/N. I know it's hasn't been easy after what happened with your mother—I don't know the whole story, but I'm not old and senile enough yet to not know something's up. But you'll always have a place to stay here. I want you to know that."

Your heart jumps. "Thank you, Uncle," you say. "You've always gone out of your way to make this feel like home for me, and you did the same when my brothers were here too. I can never thank you enough for that. And I—"

He just waves your words away. "That's what family does, you know? I've always felt like a bit of a black sheep living out here—compared to my sister, anyway. She always had big plans for all of you. But I've wanted this to feel like a good place for you, and your brothers, and now your cousins too—no matter what. Even when you all would sneak out for late-night gas station runs back in the day...or whatever it is you're doing now," your uncle adds, pointedly.

Your stomach twists. "I've...been taking moonlit strolls. It's helped me relax, with everything going on."

He doesn't seem convinced, however. "Honey...you know, you can always—"

But he's interrupted by one of your cousins shouting. "Jay won't give me the binoculars back!"

Your uncle frowns. "Jay, let your sister have a turn. Only fair, you know."

Jay crosses his arms, tucking the binoculars under one elbow. "No way! Every time Bianca uses these, she keeps telling me she sees somebody staring at her in the water."

Bianca scowls, lunging for him. "And I did! Just because you didn't see him doesn't mean I didn't."

Him.

After what your uncle had just said about your moonlit strolls, you restrain yourself from running over to the edge of the boat immediately like the other day—but your eyes still scan over the water ahead of you hurriedly.

You can see your uncle's gaze flicker back to you out of the corner of your eye, hesitating for a moment too long, before turning his attention back to the twins. "You guys have seen more stuff on the horizon in the past month than I saw in twenty years on the sea," he quips, forcing a tight laugh. "Might need to get you kids back to living in the city soon if you're seeing this many things in the water—not everyone's made for the sea life," he adds.

The knot of worry tightens itself a little tighter in your gut, and not for the last time this summer.

You still smuggle your sketchbook down to the pier once night falls, slipping out the back door with it tucked securely under your arm.

Hongjoong, of course, is waiting expectantly for you, peering up at you from the edge of the dock. "Is that for drawing?" he asks, and you can hear the twinge of excitement in his voice.

Your heart does a little backflip in your chest. "Yes," you admit, a little more sheepishly than you'd meant to. "Do you know how you want to pose for it?"

He thinks for a moment. "Can I sit up here with you? I want to be close to you for it."

Oh—now there are serious acrobatics going on within your chest. "Sure," you say, grinning as you sit on the far edge and watch him scoot up to sit beside you, leaning on the support beam at the very edge of the dock.

You gaze at him for a moment after flipping open your sketchbook and finding an empty page. His tail practically shines in the darkness around the two of you, moonlight reflecting off of each dark blue scale. His torso looks practically sculpted by the gods—arms and chest full of just as much unearthly beauty as his face, jawline sharper than the tip of the pencil you're sketching him with.

Not for the first time, you think to yourself how beautiful he is.

Hongjoong's cheeks turn the fairest shade of pink as you continue to stare at him, but he doesn't say a word as you begin your initial sketch. You find it slightly difficult to get the right shape of the tail flicking against the edge of the water beneath you. "Can I ask you a question?" you say instead, putting down your pencil for a moment.

Hongjoong blinks. "You've asked me questions for weeks, now."

You laugh. "This is a different one. I...I think one of my cousins saw something in the water today. When we were on my uncle's pontoon boat. Any chance you might know something about that?"

His cheeks turn pinker than before, but he doesn't flinch. "I suppose I might."

You can't bite back a grin. "Are you...following me, Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong frowns a little. "I wouldn't call it that. I've...just been in the area. Keeping an eye on things. Not just you."

"Just at the same time as me."

"Right," he says, clearly relieved. "Exactly."

Your grin widens.

Hongjoong points at your sketchpad. "Are you finished with the drawing?"

You laugh a little, picking your pencil back up from beside you on the dock. "No, not even close. I've never drawn anything like you before—but I love a good challenge."

He seems somewhat pleased with this admission. "Will you show it to me once it's done?"

“Of course," you tell him, and he beams. That smile—God. You only hope you can put even a fraction of the way it makes you feel back onto the paper in your palms.

Your uncle corners you in the kitchen after breakfast the next morning. You feel yourself panicking inwardly at first, thinking he's going to continue pressing you on your "moonlit strolls" conversation from yesterday—but he just informs you that he's planning on a big seafood broil for dinner tomorrow night, as a send-off for the summer. And more importantly, he wants you to pick up a few pounds of shrimp from the seafood store in town today.

It's been a while since you ventured that far back into town—God, probably since the very first week of summer. And now your uncle is preparing a feast for the end of the season. You've never known time could pass you by this quickly.

That thought lingers as you ride your uncle's bike down the boardwalk and across the bridge, gradually making your way onto the mainland. You've put off thinking about what will happen once the summer comes to a close since that night you called your mother—but it's an inevitable fact that you'll have to leave, obviously sooner than you think. How can you even begin to bring that up to Hongjoong? Does he know, already, somehow? Will he be disappointed that he can't obtain any more knowledge from you and dip back into the sea, never to be seen again?

Your racing mind quiets somewhat when you realize you've made it to the seafood store—or shack, as it's always been affectionately known. You gaze for a moment at the neon sign outside, realizing that "THE CRAB SHACK" only has a few lights that actually work. "T E CR B S H C K" is what the sign displays now.

You remember that the lights didn't work when you were here years ago, either. The whole bottom row of neon was always out, meaning that the sign only read "T E CRB." You wonder if there's a meaning in that—that the sign was broken then and broken now, just showing it in different ways.

Or maybe it's just a neon sign for a seafood shack, and your suddenly gloomy mind is searching for meaning where there is none.

You roll your eyes at your own thoughts, park your bike, and make your way inside. The smell of seafood is nearly overpowering the minute you step through the door and doesn't fade for an instant, even after you've collected your pounds of shrimp in bags and make your way to the register in the very back. You wonder if the employee behind the counter even smells the seafood anymore, or if he's completely accustomed to it now.

He clears his throat awkwardly. Oh, God—how long have you been standing here? "Are you ready to check out?"

"Yes! Yes," you say hurriedly, laughing at yourself. "Sorry. In my own head this morning."

The cashier laughs good-naturedly in reply. "It happens." He looks down at the bags of shrimp after weighing and typing them in. "You visiting a friend here or something? That's quite a few pounds of shrimp—and I don't think I've seen you in here before."

You nod. "I'm staying with some family on the other side of the bridge. We're doing an end-of-summer broil tomorrow night."

He grins at you. "Can I come by if I only charge you for one of these?"

"If there's any leftovers," you reply coolly. "My cousins are pretty ravenous."

The cashier just laughs again, handing you the bags. "Fair enough. You have a good day, now."

"Same to you," you tell him absentmindedly—because you've noticed something in the open door behind the cashier. It's probably not meant to always be open, as it leads to a boardwalk out to the sea. Another Crab Shack employee is lining up a few crates of stock not yet loaded into the store. A couple canisters of fruit, three or four crates of sodas—and at the very end of the boardwalk, you think you might just see a head of blue hair peeking out of the water.

Shit.

You wonder as you quickly make your way out of the store, as you duck under the Sea You Later! sign at the exit, as you pedal the whole ride back over the bridge and back onto your uncle's property—a trick of the light, maybe? (When has that ever been the case this summer?) Will Hongjoong even say anything about it tonight, if it was him?

He does, of course. When evening falls and you make your way down to the dock, you haven't even taken your pencils out of your drawing bag before Hongjoong is pulling himself up beside you, gazing at you intently.

"What was so funny?" he asks, in a tone so innocent you almost think he's being genuine. "I want to know."

You make an exasperated face. "I don't know what you're talking about, Hongjoong."

"The man in the store today," he answers plainly. "In the apron. You laughed at something he said."

"Nothing," you say. "I was being polite—I promise. He was the one trying to make jokes about inviting himself over. Not nearly as funny as he thought he was."

He isn't quite satisfied with that. "Did you know him before?"

"No," you tell him. "I was just in there getting shrimp for my uncle to cook tomorrow."

Hongjoong frowns. "I could've gotten you shrimp. There's plenty around that cove near the bridge."

You laugh. "I appreciate the offer—but where would I have told my uncle several pounds of live shrimp came from?"

He frowns, thinking for a moment. "The apron man wasn't too bright, I think," Hongjoong says. "I saw him come out onto the boardwalk not too long after you left—almost fell over trying to help the other apron man pick up those boxes."

His words hang in the air for a beat. Then two. "What would you have done if he had?" you ask, partially teasing and partially serious. "Drown him?"

Hongjoong ponders that. "I'm not sure. Maybe."

"For what? Talking to me?" you ask, somewhat incredulously. "What were you doing watching me in the middle of the day, anyway? Just 'in the area' again?"

He crosses his arms indignantly. "I didn't plan to. I heard your laugh when I came up for air, so I wanted to know what was funny." He seems to pause on that for a moment. "You're almost a siren yourself, in that way."

Now that makes your heart stop—maybe more than he had intended it to. You have to hide the smile that threatens to creep up the edges of your mouth. "So you really aren't going to drown that poor cashier? Or me, for talking to him?" you ask, still only partially teasingly.

Hongjoong's face softens slightly at that. "I don't think I ever really intended to. Not from the moment I saw you."

You wonder, for a split second, if he can hear your heart thundering in your chest—if he has any idea what kind of effect he has on you, siren abilities or not.

He seems to have an idea of your thoughts, either way—because he reaches for your hand, intertwining it with his. "I want to show you something."

You stare at him for an instant too long. "Where?" you ask, nervous laughter accidentally escaping you. "In the water?"

He nods, as if that should have been obvious. "Of course."

You give him a look. "Hongjoong—I don't know how far this is, but you know I'm not nearly as good at holding my breath as you are."

Hongjoong laughs a little at that—that bright, airy, musical laugh that almost instantly sets you at ease, reminding whatever sane parts of you are left that he's still a siren. "Don't worry," he says plainly. "I'll make sure you can breathe."

Just as always, there's no malice in his tone, no hint of a hidden plot behind his eyes, although you wonder if you would even know if there was, skillful siren that he is. Regardless, you squeeze his hand in yours and let him lead you off the dock and beneath the waves, taking one last gasping breath before your head slips underneath.

Hongjoong keeps your hand in his, tail swishing as he leads the two of you further beneath the surface—the scales across it continue to reflect moonlight as brightly as if you were still above the water, giving you just as much visibility in the dark water as if you had a flashlight with you.

What's a flashlight?

You nearly let out a yelp before you remember the two of you are underwater. That was Hongjoong's voice, no doubt about it—and it was in your head.

You can talk to me this way too, you know.

It's like he's invaded your head—his thoughts are suddenly yours. Can you always hear my thoughts? you wonder. If that's been the case all along—

But you can just barely see Hongjoong shake his head in front of you through the darkness. No, you hear him say. Only when we're here, like this. Do you need air?

God, you definitely, definitely do—the shock of Hongjoong's voice in your mind had completely distracted you for a brief moment from the lack of air in your lungs. It's nothing at all, though, compared to the shock you feel when Hongjoong cups your cheeks between his hands and presses his mouth to yours.

He's kissing you.

No—he's not, you realize suddenly. He's breathing into you, pushing air down your lungs and filling them up until you feel like you can breathe again, despite being completely submerged beneath the water.

Hongjoong pulls away after a moment. Good? he asks.

You nod—you're slightly embarrassed now, especially now that you know he could hear your confusion in your head.

And especially considering the smirk you can see on his lips right before he turns back around to push the two of you further through the water. He's well aware of the confusion he's caused.

Hongjoong only has to give you air two more times before you finally arrive at what he had wanted to show you—and it nearly takes your breath away once more.

It's a shipwreck. A massive one, sitting completely undisturbed at the bottom of the bay. The ship has three broken masts, some of the sails slightly submerged in the sand with several of the cannon openings peeking out at you, which you know can mean only one thing.

This ship is hundreds of years old. One that had clearly gone down in a fight.

Hongjoong beams at you taking in the scene. My cousins did this, you hear him say, and you nearly laugh at the clear pride in that declaration.

You think about your own cousins, playing pirates on the beach while they throw buckets of water at each other, stomping over sandcastles and leaving childlike destruction in their wake. Yeah? you finally ask. Sounds like something my cousins would do.

Hongjoong stares at you thoughtfully for a long time after that—you wonder, for a brief moment, if you shouldn't have compared your family to his in this way. You're just about to formulate a thought to apologize when you feel his lips on yours again, one hand on the back of your head while the other cups your cheek gently.

You stare at him, confused once more when he pulls back. I didn't need air, you tell him, eyebrows knit together in confusion.

He stares right back. I know.

Hongjoong waits to see the realization on your face before he touches you again, clasping your chin between two fingers gingerly. He's giving you a chance to push him away, if that's what you want.

It isn't.

You hold his face in your hands when you press your lips to his this time, and you can practically feel the relief emanating from him in your own mind. He wraps one arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as he can. Everything else—all your fearful thoughts about the end of the summer from today, your suspicions about your uncle, your constant stress about your mother—all fades away past the point of existence, and in that moment, there is nothing but you and Hongjoong at the bottom of the ocean.

"Sure you don't want to go out on the boat today?" your uncle asks the next morning. "It's your last chance for this summer."

But you shake your head again. "I got pretty sunburned across my back yesterday," you fib. "I'll watch the house here until you all get back. Do you need me to run any errands for you while you're gone?"

He doesn't quite stop himself from narrowing his eyes at you. You've been out in the sun enough times this summer that the half hour you spent in the backyard watching your cousins' impromptu performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream yesterday shouldn't have burned you at all. And you know he's fully aware of this. "...Don't know how many times I've told you kids to wear sunscreen," he says after a moment. "And reapply."

"I know," you wince. "I'm sorry. I'll put some lotion on it after breakfast."

"There's some in the closet upstairs with aloe," he informs you. "That usually speeds up the healing process for me."

"Good to know," you tell him. In truth, the only thing you plan to do while everyone is out of the house is work on your drawing of Hongjoong. You've solidified the outline, gone over it with an ink pen, but you're still trying to decide how to place the shading. You want to show the finished product to Hongjoong tonight—your last night of summer. You've put off that dreaded conversation with him until the very last minute—but you know you two will have to talk about what happens two nights from now when you're across the country, moving into your dorm room for your first night at college.

At least—you think you will be. There's a mad fantasy, of course, of staying here, of sneaking out to see Hongjoong every night for as long as you can, of running away with him somehow to some island where no one will ever bother the two of you—but it's just that, a fantasy, and you know it. Even if the entire summer has felt like a fantasy in its own way.

You don't know how that conversation will go tonight. But you want to at least be able to give this piece to him, regardless of what happens.

You're hunched over your sketchpad for hours, messing with the combination of paints for your watercolors until they're just right (or at least as satisfactory as you can get them). The scales on his tail are the hardest—you want so badly to show how ethereal they look with the moonlight reflecting off them, making him look like he's glowing from the waist down. You lay down a base color first and paint over it with different shades of blue and green, creating several different layers until you're pleased with the color's result.

Your work on the contours of his face and torso comes much easier, and the full painting is almost completely dry by the time you're heading back outside, moon high in the sky to greet you as you step onto the dock.

Hongjoong is waiting for you too, forearms resting at the edge of the pier. You roll the painting into a cylinder shape as you walk down to meet him, but you know he knows exactly what it is.

He grins. "I've been thinking about this all day," he admits, immediately, and you feel an entire enclosure of butterflies fluttering through your chest at the statement.

But you steel yourself. Take a breath. "Before I show it to you," you say, "I want to talk."

Hongjoong nods. "The end of the summer. Right?"

You raise one eyebrow at him. "How'd you know?"

"I heard you talking about it. With your uncle, that first time that your cousin spotted me from the boat." He grins a little at the recollection. "I heard him say there wasn't long until the end of summer, when you'd be leaving, so—I imagined this conversation would happen soon."

You exhale, slightly relieved. At least you wouldn't have to break the news of your sudden departure to him. "And how did you imagine this conversation?"

He takes a breath now. "I know I can't ask you to stay here. That's not fair to what you want—to the choices you've made with your own family for being able to make your own life. But I was thinking—"

"Y/N!" You hear a voice cry out from behind you.

You'd recognize the sound of your uncle anywhere—and you feel your blood practically freeze over in your veins. "Get back here. Now!"

You turn around quickly, trying to block the view of Hongjoong from your uncle—but it's too late. And as you turn to face him, you see that he's come prepared for this exact situation—a shotgun raised to his shoulder now, eyes peering down the barrel pointed at you, and a long fishing spear beside him on the dock.

"Uncle," you say, as calmly as you can. "Put that down. Please."

"Get back here, Y/N," he says, voice trembling with barely contained rage. "Get away from that thing right this minute and get out of my way."

You take a shaky breath. "Uncle, please let me explain. He's—"

"I know exactly what that is!" your uncle spits, pulling back the safety on the shotgun with a loud click. "A goddamn monster. You have no idea what those things do," he says, voice cracking. "I've seen men—good men, my friends taken from me, by its kind. Yanked right off our ship's railing and into their waiting mouths. It's nothing but a bloodthirsty animal that—"

"Stop!" you interrupt him with a shout, surprising yourself with the tenacity in your voice. You feel Hongjoong's hand wrap around your ankle, probably trying to tell you to stop—but you can't. You won't. "He's not a single thing like that. His name is Hongjoong. He's never even drowned anyone, let anyone killed and eaten anyone, Uncle. You have—"

"It's got you under it's spell," your uncle says, horrified. "Oh, my poor Y/N. I'll kill this nasty beast and free you from this trap."

You practically scream the next time you open your mouth. "No! You can't!" There's tears streaming down your face now, and the intensity of your emotions must be a surprise to your uncle, if the look of shock on his face is anything to go by. "Uncle—I'm begging you," you plead, sobbing. "I'll do anything. Please, please don't hurt him. He's my friend."

Something strange flickers over your uncle's features. He drops the barrel ever so slightly from being pointed at you. "Your friend, huh?"

You nod as you choke back another sob. "I love him." It's the first time you've admitted it—to yourself, let alone out loud—but you know it's the truth. Has been for longer than you've been aware, most likely.

That admission causes your uncle to drop the barrel entirely, holding the shotgun down in one hand and letting his other arm rest at his side. "My Y/N," he says, after a moment with a sigh.

"I've always wanted the best for you. I lived with your mother for eighteen years growing up, up until she met your father and had you and your brothers. I know how...how demanding she can be," he says with a laugh, one you don't reciprocate. "I know her tendencies all too well. She's my sister, and she'll always be my sister—but that doesn't mean I think she's a good person. I've tried to show you that there's a different path in life. That you don't have to do things her way. This...isn't what I thought you'd do," he says, laughing emptily again. "But I would never want to do anything that would hurt you on any level close to what I know she's caused you."

Your uncle swallows. Takes a breath. "I swore an oath," he says, steadier now. "In the navy. When I see anything like this, when any of us do—I'm honor-bound to report it. The local unit will be over here in under half an hour. Maybe even sooner."

You feel yourself holding your breath.

"So," he says, sighing as he meets your gaze down the dock. "You two...had just better not be here by the time they show up."

Before you can say anything in response—or perhaps before he can change his mind, your uncle turns on his heel and walks back towards the house.

You turn back around to face Hongjoong, sinking to your knees—and the minute you do, you feel tears streaming back down your face again.

He immediately pushes himself up onto the dock, grabbing hold of your face and brushing away the tears the instant they fall. "Y/N," he whispers. "You didn't have to do that. I...I love you. I would've gladly taken a bullet from your uncle if it meant you'd be safe."

Your eyes well with tears again, a shaky laugh leaving you. "Shit," you whisper back. "I don't—I don't know what to do, I just...just wanted to show you this stupid drawing," you say, laughing shakily. "And now I've ruined both of our lives. I'll never see you again."

"No. You haven't," Hongjoong says firmly, squeezing your cheeks in his hands.

You grab hold of his wrists. "Hongjoong—you have to get out of here. You...you said you have family everywhere, right? Go anywhere else. Please."

"No," Hongjoong says suddenly, straightening up the instant your hands wrap around his wrists. "Where did you say that school you were going to for your art was?"

You tell him. "It's on the coast, but it's not nearly as close to the sea as we are here, I—"

He interrupts you again. "I'll find you."

You let out an unbelieving laugh. "Hongjoong, there's no way—"

"I'll find you," he repeats, hands still cupping your face firmly. "On the name of the full moon that night you found me—on that stupid apple that led me to you. I'll find you. And then, you can let me see that drawing."

He leans forward, his lips pressing against yours in a messy kiss—all teeth and salty tears and hands squeezing too tight, or maybe not tight enough—before he lets go of you, pushing himself off the dock and into the water. You see one flick of his tail before he descends deep beneath the surface, and it's not long at all as you sit there, chest heaving and cheeks stained, before the waves are gone and the sea stills, and it's like Hongjoong was never there at all.

Fall semester has left you busier than you could have ever dreamed. You've never done this many sketches in a week, never tried this many different techniques at once, never spent this many all-nighters on a single project—but you'd be lying if you said you weren't still enjoying every second of it.

Your job keeps you plenty busy, too—your roommate had been kind enough to put in a good word at the campus library and gotten you a job in the coffee shop on the first floor. You're taking as many shifts as you can, but the pay isn't bad, all things considered. You may not have to take a semester off after all.

But the diving club keeps you almost busier than both your work and assignments combined. You've already logged more hours than any of the other freshman, and some of the upperclassmen, too. If the club captain has noticed how you're always late packing up after a dive, she hasn't reprimanded you. Maybe she's noticed the unique shells you seem to always come back with, or the skip in your step as you pack up your scuba gear, rolling a shiny bracelet over your wrist—or maybe she's noticed something else, entirely.

After all—last summer, you had been so sure that there was nothing like Hongjoong living below the water's surface. Of course, that didn't mean other people didn't already believe otherwise.

a/n: happy holidays !! i hope everyone is staying warm and healthy and having a lovely week so far <3

and finally…this title escapes my wip list 😭 y’all. i have been working on this on and off since late 2021—sometimes you can have an idea, have absolutely no inspo to write past halfway through, and then write 5k in one night. 💀 no such thing as a perfect project ofc but i do hope you enjoyed this oneshot! feedback is always welcome through reblogs, comments, and messages 🫶🫶 thank you sm for reading!

taglist: @petrichor-han @kangroo-chan @ot7lonelylover @lilacdreams-00 @mainexiii @awkwardnesshabitat @lotus-dly @elizabeth11moreno @nerdysl-t @seung-scrittore @fireheaurt

©️ noramoons 2021-2023. do not translate or reupload my writing.

#hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #hongjoong fic #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong angst #hongjoong x gender neutral reader #hongjoong oneshot #ateez fic #beck writes ✍️

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princess-tulip-writes · 11 months

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A rose in a bed of thorns• cassian/eris/rhysand x reader

Genre: smut

Summary: Eris is a cruel, possessive male with a bad reputation but for you, he’s do anything to make you happy— even if that means letting his two sworn enemies fuck you.

A/n: i felt so dirty writing this 😫 and I dedicate this slutty work of art to my bestie and sis-in-law, @redbleedingrose for her birthday. Happy birthday pretty girl, I love you 💋 and cherish our friendship. (I also made the text pink for you bookie)

“Are you sure that you’re okay with this?”

Eris’ eyes roamed over the full Illyrian male once more, taking in the sculpted muscles of his body for the fifth time that night. The male was mesmerizing, irritatingly so, but Eris wasn’t checking him out because of his beauty– but because of yours.

He had to keep making sure that you would only get the best, the most handsome males and females of Prythian, to fuck you. His darling little mate would never need to settle for less, and since Illyrian didn’t fall under the ‘filth’ category for you, he would just have to look past their reputation just to see that smile on your face. He never understood your taste, Illyrian’s were disgusting, fowl bastards that were created for nothing more than battle, but you seemed to drool over them.

Well, not all of the bat-like beings; just two.

He took in a sharp breath, praying you didn’t notice it, as his eyes shifted back to his high lady. Even now, in the lighting of a court that is foreign to his own, you looked absolutely breathtaking. Your eyes were as bright as the stars above you, twinkling with hope and elation as your pupils found him. You were incredibly excited for tonight, the anticipation from the years of built up longing had ignited a fire in your veins that only your mate had ever lit and you were very interested in what it would be like to be filled by the cocks of Prythian’s strongest males. You’ve heard dozens of stories about their bedding habits, how they fuck like gods and treat their lovers like the finest gold, and it had always left you wanting more than a few flirty glances. Your skin glowed with joy the moment Eris told you of your birthday gift, one of many you assume, and the sparkle in your eye hadn’t left since.

Eris took your hand in his, and brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“I want you to be happy, my love. This is a one time opportunity, don’t waste it worrying about me.”

Unhappy with his answer and the way he avoided the question, you narrowed your eyes at him slightly. “That wasn’t what I asked.”

His brows furrowed as he glanced at the two males awaiting on the bed across the room from you both, smirks on their faces as they practically tore your dress off with their hungry eyes. Rhysand’s violet orbs slowly dragged his gaze along every inch of you, taking in every curve and shape of you attentively, engraving your clothed body in his mind before fucking you silly. Tonight was a night he and his brother would be sure to remember, and he wanted to savor every blissful moment before you both went back to your lives. His brother, Cassian, on the other hand, was admiring your giving figure, in absolute awe of this reality as you stood with your back facing him. His tongue darted from his mouth to wet his lips as you smiled softly to your mate, and his palms suddenly felt sweaty and his pants too tight. You were such a sweetheart, so gentle and kind always, even to such a prick like Eris. Cassian never understood why the Cauldron fated you with the son of autumn, you were like a bright star that would shine beautifully at the night court, but it wasn’t your fault. Perhaps you had a dark spot, one that no one but your mate and you knew about. Deciding not the think too much about it and ruin the perfect image of you he had created, he shook that theory off and blamed fate instead as you turned away from the male and faced the two Illyrians with a flushed smile.

“Um,” you hummed, eyes darting between the two large males excitedly. “So who wants to go first?”

The clicking of your mate’s tongue caused your head to whip back in his direction, only to find him smirking wildly down at you, a slender finger held up to you.

“Ah, ah, my little dove.” he poked your nose softly, a sweet gesture that you knew was teasing. “You think that just because I’m not fucking you tonight that you get to be in charge?” a dry, humorless laugh left his throat. “That’s really fucking cute.”

–

“Oh fuck! Right there, please!”

A breathy chuckle sounded from Cassian as he bucked his hips into your cunt rapidly, a wide grin plastered on his face at your shaking legs and gaped face. It was the result of his harsh thrusts to your g-spot nonstop for the past twenty minutes, ripping orgasm after orgasm out of you until your voice turned hoarse from screaming his name. Your toes cramped from tightly curling all night but you couldn’t find it in you to care as your cunt was being fucked so good.

“Is he fucking you good, bunny? Making my pussy feel good?” Eris cooed at you, his warm hand combing through your hair to soothe you and bring your attention to him; right where it belongs.

You let out a huff of air as Cassian’s thumb found your clit and rubbed it in fast circles, causing your back to arch against Eris’ chest and your pussy to pulse around his cock, just like he had already made it do a dozen times tonight.

As your mate caught sight of your glazed over eyes and heaving chest, his brow raised in question, obviously a reminder for you to take if you paid close enough attention. But when instead, your eyes rolled back and a silent scream fell from your lips, he knew the words weren’t going to tumble out of your mouth any time soon.

His flameful gaze flickered to the massive general between your legs, dark and lustful and filled with dominance as he glared up at Cassian.

“Stop fucking her.”

Eris’ voice was stern, but the look on his face gave away just how much this mattered to him– how much the power over you mattered to him. His brows lowered over his eyes in a dark manner as fire ignited in his eyes, almost turning them into a feral gold. The clenched teeth and flexed jaw didn’t go unnoticed by any of the males as their attention turned to him.

For a moment, Cassian hesitated, continuing his assault on your pussy as you came without permission on his cock. Approval of your orgasm didn’t matter to him, you were meant to enjoy yourself tonight, let loose before the night and autumn court become strangers again. He wasn’t going to waste your time edging you when he could be pulling countless pleasure out of you instead, and the tightening feeling of your cunt around his cock was just a bonus of your overstimulated state. But, Eris seemed to have cared tons, because every extra thrust sent inside of you earned a harsh glare from your mate until finally, he annoyed Cassian enough to obey.

His cock still inside of the warm walls of your pulsating cunt, the tip resting just right against your cervix as you both caught your breaths and regained your senses under the eyes of two high lords.

“Why’d you make me stop, you prick?”

There were a million insults that the red head thought to have fired back at the Illyrian, all of which involved his upbringing, but the way your hand gripped his grounded him to stay civil for now. You know, since the male was still inside of you and could very well snatch you as quick as he could say ‘fuck you, Vanserra.’

“Because someone,” Eris looked back down at your fucked out face in disapproval before squishing your cheeks together roughly, then leaning down until your noses touched and his eyes bored into yours. “Seemed to have forgotten her godsdamned manners. Haven’t you, slut?”

You felt small underneath his hard glare and the words stopped in your throat as you thought of a proper response.

Your silence left Eris to grow impatient, causing him to raise a brow at you and squish your cheeks harder. When you squeaked softly in pain, Rhysand was quick to sit up in case you were in any need of protection. Killing Eris Vanserra never sounded like a bad idea to him, or any of his family, if it weren’t for the disastrous war it would cause, but for you? He would do it without any second thought.

“Answer me, slut, or have you gone so dumb that you can’t even form a sentence?”

You swallowed thick and tried to shake your head underneath his firm hand.

“N-no, sir. I-i’m sorry, i-”

“You’re sorry for what, my greedy whore?” Eris hissed.

Rhysand and Cassian both shared a glance as the velvet haired male insulted you, sitting up instinctively and furrowing their brows tightly out of rage and concern for you. It wasn’t uncommon for Cassian to get protective of females, especially from a male’s offensive comments and treatment, but this time, Rhys swore it felt different. He couldn’t lie, though, and say he didn’t feel the same way his brother most likely was, it enraged him to hear such degrading words thrown at such an angel like you.

“You’re being too harsh, go easier on her.” the general interjected, his wings puffing out ever so slightly for preparation in case of a possible conflict. Things were always unpredictable with the Vanserra’s,the brothers would know better than anyone.

“I agree, brother, stars like this one do not deserve such fowl words to be thrown at her. If she were mine-”

The eldest Vanserra snarled as he whipped his head toward the Illyrian’s resting against the head board, giving him glares sharp enough to kill. He shook them off as he stared into violet irises.

“But she is not, therefore you will shut your mouth about how I speak to my high lady, unless I ask.”

You felt smaller than a speck of dust when his eyes found your’s again, and this time he the glare was directed to you as he awaited your answer.

“Fo-for cumming without asking first, sir.” you mumbled.

A smirk tugged at his lips, his grip loosening on your cheeks as he placed a soft kiss to your nose after finally hearing what he wanted all alone.

“Good girl.” he praised, proud that he had trained such a good whore for him to show off. His finger trailed along your jaw softly as your breathing slowed and calmed down under his gentle touch, the touch of your favorite lover. “Now, do you think you could be extra good and take Rhysand’s cock now for me?”

Although his words were sweet and encouraging, the tone in which he spoke held a completely different meaning, one you knew all too well. He wasn’t asking you if you could handle another fuck, no, the way his lips upturned and his voice mocked you made that clear to you. To someone who wasn’t in his bed every night, this would seem like a sweet interaction between too connected souls but with you and eris, it was different; more like a master with his puppy.

“Y-yes, sir.”

Your choked out answer satisfied your mate enough to widen his smirk into a grin.

“Good girl.”

His hands traveled down your body and rested on your limp hands, picking them up off the mattress and holding them in his own before he nodded to Cassian in dismissal.

“You’re finished.” He said to the Illyrian moments before the larger male pulled out.

Rhysand smiled coyly as his brother flopped down next to him, flashing him a wink then scotting to the edge of the bed where your pussy was presented to him, oozing out cum like a little dispenser.

“Are you ready for me, beautiful?” the high lord muttered as he aligned his cock with your entrance, hovering over you despite your mate’s protests from the top of you. It was easy to remind himself how little effort it would take to shatter Eris’ mind that moment, but the way your eyes sparkled up at him refrained him from doing so.

You smiled tiredly, yet excited, in response before nodding.

Rhysand’s lips ghosted your cheek, a raspy chuckle leaving his throat and tickling your mind as the tip of his cock nudged at your swollen clit. The teasing action caused you to gasp and your thighs to instinctively shut around his hips, but he was quick to spread them back open.

A grin played out on the high lord’s lips before he placed a kiss to the side of your lips, causing your mate to snarl and his grip on your hands tighten, before sliding the head of his cock down to your leaking entrance and slipping in slowly.

You both made sounds of your own at the first stroke, a growl from him and a whine came from you, and you could feel everything as he pushed himself inside of you. The thick veins of his cock felt accentuated, as if you could feel the thunderous heart beats from your cunt with each second that passed as he stilled to allow you to stretch for him.

“You,” he sighed blissfully. “Feel fucking exquisite, little one.” a small growl ended his sentence as you clenched around his cock from the compliment.

Although you were plenty used to hearing about how amazing you feel, mostly from Eris, the phrase sounded sexier and more genuine coming from Rhysand; the most powerful high lord that was currently balls deep inside of your walls. Your crush on him had begun even before you met Eris, years prior to the bond was countless weeks of mutual pining from the both of you, and if it wasn’t for your father’s disapproval of the high lord, you would have already been imprinted by his cock years ago.

Not that you were complaining though, Eris gave you plenty enough pleasure to make you forget all about your little crush and feel more than satisfied with him. But, you couldn’t deny the way that your stomach jumped whenever his violet eyes found your’s in a crowded ball room or the way your mouth watered when he pretended to be cruel to his subjects.

But it was all just lust, nothing more, nothing less.

“Doesn’t she? Her cunt is like a slice of paradise.” Eris agreed.

There was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke, causing your brow to furrow in curiosity.

“Fuck– your cunt is so tight, darling.” Rhys growled before nipping at your neck harshly, expelling a loud whine from the chambers of your lungs.

The knot in your stomach kept getting tighter and tighter after each stroke of Rhys’ cock, and the way he looked above you, so full of pleasure and absolutely in awe of the female beneath him, made your cunt clench around his thick cock every time you looked up at him. You could feel your orgasm quickly approaching from just his cock, but when he dared to roll his thumb over your perked nipple, you were gone.

Your toes cutrled tightly, as your legs began to shake and your chest heaved, you felt the familiar sensation of a mist coat over your thoughts, making you focus on nothing but the pleasure that Rhysand was generously giving you. Thankfully for you thought, this time you managed to scream out the correct words before even trying to let go yet.

“Please, fuck, please, can I cum?”

Eris let out a low chuckle at your begging; the begging only he got to hear nightly, no matter who fucked you. “Yes, my little slut, cum for me on his cock. Be a good whore and show Rhysand how pretty you look when you cum with your husband’s permission.”

Once your permission was granted, you stopped holding yourself back from climaxing and creamed on the half-illyrian’s cock with shaking legs and a loud scream of his name. Rhysand couldn’t stop himself from finishing inside of you himself, especially after the heavenly sight of the most beautiful female in Prythian crumbling underneath him and the intense but euphoria of the tight clenching of your sopping, wet pussy around his dick. Of course this was fantasy he had thought of plenty of times, but never had he ever expected you to look so fucking devine when he made you climax. It was a sight the he would soon replay in his mind daily, and your’s too when he saw you next, as a reminder of how much you crave his cock, regardless of your hovering mate.

His hot cum soon joined his brother’s in the walls of your dripping core with a roar that shook the bedroom, before he collapsed on your recovering body. His lips upturned as he placed slow openmouthed kisses to your neck and shoulder like a lover would.

Oh, how he dreamed on every star to be your lover.

It was a foolish thought that passed through him daily and ripped him apart from the inside, but it made him happier to imagine how much love he would give you if it were him instead with the string that tied your soul to his, if it were him instead that was granted you each morning in his bed, if it were him instead that you followed order for… if it were instead of that stobby, two-faced, piece of trash that you were fated to.

But the cards were laid out differently, and there was nothing either of you could about it.

Eris leaned down and gave the tip of your nose a kiss, once, twice, before moving his lips down to your own, kissing you deeply as Rhysand caught his breath.

A thought struck him suddenly, one so dangerous to ask but too special to let slip away before you left for good. It would be one hell of an offer, one he was sure you would agree with but knew the autumn court high lord would refuse angerly, not that Rhys was scared, Eris Vanserra had nothing on the king of night. Besides, lovers came to him, not the other way around. How would it look if he asked for you? He would look weak, like he lost his edge…

But you were far more precious than his image to him, that was a risk he was willing to take.

Swallowing his pride, he cleared his throat and let out a low whistle as Eris snarled for him the ‘get off’. Joining his brother on the bed, absolutely dazed out of his mind from your warmth, Rhysand chuckled lowly, causing giggles to leave your lips and make the other two males chuckle themselves. For the first time in years, he felt pure bliss radiate through him and pump joy into his bloodstream, and he decided this was a feeling he wanted to feel forever; with you.

“We need to do this again.”

#eris 🌷#cassian 🌷#rhysand 🌷#the bat boys 🦇#for my rosie <3 #rhysand x reader smut #cassian x reader smut #cassian x reader #cassian smut #rhysand smut #eris smut #eris x reader smut #acotar smut #acotar x reader #acotar blurb #a court of thorns and roses smut #acotar x reader smut

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animasola86 · 6 months

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Kinktober: A Filthy Fantasy (1/2)

Notes: I dedicate these two parts of absolute filth (I'm sorry!) to the wonderful @amberlide – who graciously gave me the detailed outline of this little story and inspired me so much! Thank you for sharing your idea and letting me turn it into what it had become (I'm sorry?). I hope I could do your idea justice! :)

I've ticked a lot of boxes for @kinktober2023 again, beware!

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Smut/Horror/Filth // Words: 7.9k // [READ ON AO3]

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! cnc/rape fantasy. bondage. creepy masks. sensory deprivation. oral sex (f!receiving). orgasm denial. rough sex. snakes?

Synopsis: Sebastian makes you think about your filthiest fantasy and then manipulates you into wanting to do it.

Warning: This is darker than it sounds. Or does it? Anyway, it's rough smut. Smut that's rough. Beware.

-- read Part 2 here --

A Filthy Fantasy (1/2)

“So what's the dirtiest thought you'd ever had?” Sebastian asked as you snuggled against him, your sweat slick body moulding against his. A cold breeze rushed over you and you shivered even more when you felt his finger trailing your hard nipple.

“The dirtiest thought? Like what?” you replied, your mind still pretty much empty after he had fucked you into the cushions of the old couch and into oblivion and back. You felt as if your noises still echoed through the Undercroft.

“Concerning sex,” he chuckled and wrapped one arm around you, pulling you closer. “What's your filthiest fantasy?”

You would blush deeply if your face wasn't still flushed from what you two had just done – and you can only wonder how he can think about sex again already. “Hmm,” you made and took a moment to think about it, even though there was nothing in your head but static, blissful static. “I... I think I'm already quite happy with the things we do...”

He nudged you playfully. “That's not my question,” he said and pressed his lips against your damp forehead, then pushed a strand of hair out of your eyes.

You bit your lip, watching him closely as you tried to think. “What is filth anyway?” you then asked, frowning.

“Things you wouldn't want to talk about...”

“And still you urge me to tell you?” you laughed and shook your head slightly, poking his chest with a finger.

“Well, you can tell me anything, you know that. I won't judge.” He put his hand to your face and caressed your cheek. “Like, what is so strange or taboo, but it would still arouse you?” He paused. “How about tentacles? I heard that's a commonly liked taboo among girls.”

“What?” The laugh you issued sounded strangled. “Really? Care to share your sources for that?”

He only chuckled. “You never thought about falling into a pit of Devil's Snare and letting those tendrils explore your body?”

“That's... no! Definitely not! That's disgusting!” you exclaimed and shivered, not even wanting to imagine that.

“Is it, though? No kink-shaming, baby,” he teased and you rolled your eyes.

“Well, what's yours then? What arouses Sebastian Sallow that's too taboo to talk about?”

He looked at you then, almost serious, his eyes darker than usual. “Loss of control,” he said without hesitation and you frowned. “Being under somebody else's control, unable to do anything. That is scary and sexy at the same time.”

You raised your eyebrows and considered his words, a little unsure if he really felt like that or if he wanted to convince you to feel like that. You never knew with him.

“Just imagine,” he whispered as he leaned closer, his hot breath on your ear. “Being tied to a chair, naked, blindfolded, not knowing what will happen, anticipating the worst...”

It was either his words or the vibrations of his voice or your mind imagining just that, but you felt definitely aroused all over again. Biting your lip, you nodded slowly, seeing him smiling when you did.

“Sounds good, huh?”

“But I wouldn't want just anyone tying me to a chair, you know? Can I alter that fantasy a little?” He nodded. “If you'd be the one to do these things to me, I'd be more than willing to give up control like that,” you told him quietly.

His smile grew. “Really?” When you nodded, he leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours, kissing you euphorically.

“It's still just a fantasy, right?” you whispered against his lips when he gave you a moment to catch your breath.

“Of course,” he replied with a smirk, before nibbling on your bottom lip. “Unless...”

You leaned back a little, your eyes flying over his face. “Unless?”

“What if we planned something like that? A scene of some sort? We'd make a list with all the things we like and don't like and then we just... role-play it?”

You frowned. “Wouldn't that beat the purpose of losing control if you plan it out like that? I'd already know what'll happen... won't I?”

“But you wouldn't know when... or how... or if at all,” he said quietly, licking his lips. “The anticipation alone would drive you crazy!”

You shifted against him, already feeling the excitement pooling between your legs. He noticed and grinned, his hand trailing down the curve of your body to rest on your hip.

“What do you say?” he then asked, watching you closely.

You gave him a smile and a quick peck to the lips. “Yes, let's imagine it then.”

He beamed at you and pulled you closer against his chest, kissing your temple. “Okay, so, it'll start... with somebody –”

“You,” you emphasised with a stern gaze, while a smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth.

“Me, yes, but let's pretend it'll be somebody,” he said with a wink. “Somebody dragging you into a dark alley, his hand over your mouth and his arm around your waist, pulling you into the darkness...”

You inhaled deeply and listened to him sketching the outline of your little scene. His voice vibrated through your body and you quickly felt more and more excited about his idea. He gave you all the details, drew it out piece by piece, waited for your feedback and approval and objections, then continued, and in the end your entire body was shaking in anticipation.

Just talking about it and imagining it was already doing wonders to your pleasure points and somehow you couldn't wait to actually play that whole scenario out.

You couldn't wait to touch him either, so you rolled him onto his back and scrambled on top of him, breathlessly staring down at him as you ground your hips into his. He seemed just as eager and quickly grabbed your waist as you leaned down to push your mouth against his.

The couch creaked and squeaked beneath you for a second time that night, probably also a third, and your noises filled the Undercroft as you gave into your urges yet again. And somehow you forgot about his little role-play idea after all. Why think about something that might or might not happen, when you could indulge in your lust for him right here and now?

And so you did – and time passed.

Several weeks later, you didn't really count the days though, you were on an errand run through Hogsmeade, alone, because your boyfriend had been too busy to come with you. Even though you'd rather spend every single minute of the day with him, you knew he also needed his alone time, and you respected that of course.

And as you walked, caught in thoughts of his pretty brown eyes, you found yourself traversing the narrower side streets of the village on a shortcut to J. Pippin's – when you suddenly felt a rush of air and then a hand grabbing you so quickly you didn't even have time to scream.

You were pulled into the tight space between two buildings and pinned stomach-first against the wall, the hand now firmly on your mouth. It was too dark to see anything or anyone and your heart leapt against your ribcage as you felt another hand creeping around your waist and upwards to your chest.

Your breath hitched when it groped you through your clothes and you squirmed against the stranger holding you hostage. His heavy breaths were in your ears, nothing more, no threats or lewd words, just his heavy breathing that made your hair stand on end. A whimper escaped you when he suddenly let you go and you felt something being pulled over your head.

The next thing you knew was being dragged a little further, before the sound of a creaking hinge and heavy wood falling to the side suggested you were being pulled down into one of the basements of the nearby houses. You were pushed forwards, stumbled and almost fell down the steps if it wasn't for the hand grabbing your neck from behind. That same noise sounded and a hefty silence pressed down on you.

The hand on your neck urged you forwards and this time you tumbled and landed hard on your knees, dirt and dust covering your hands as you tried to support yourself. You were yanked upwards roughly, then spun around and pinned against a wall again, the hand now on your throat, squeezing tightly. You wheezed in panic, your hands reaching up to scratch at the wrist of the stranger, when you suddenly felt that same hot breath on your cheek, and even through the fabric (of what you imagined to be a sack) it caused you goosebumps.

“What's your safeword?” the stranger growled – and it took you an embarrassingly long time to recognize Sebastian's voice – and suddenly you were back in the Undercroft, talking about this very scenario. As relief flushed through you because you had been genuinely scared there for a moment, you felt his hand tightening around your throat. “Tell me,” he urged, sounding so rough and unfamiliar it did nothing to ease your fright.

“I... I don't know,” you whispered, still overwhelmed by the whole situation.

He let out a grunt, pushing you closer against the wall. “What's your favourite number?”

“What?” Be it lack of oxygen or the general fear that settled in your stomach, but you had a hard time understanding him.

“If this gets too much, just say your favourite number and I'll stop immediately, okay?” he explained darkly, his voice muffled slightly. “Which is what?”

You inhaled sharply. “Twenty-one,” you then stammered and he pushed your head firmer against the wall in response.

“Remember it,” he growled and without any warning, he slipped back into his role and grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you after him.

Stumbling after him, unable to see, gripped by a feeling that was completely new to you – as a mixture of excitement and anxiety flooded your body – you then found yourself pushed into a chair. The wood creaked when he basically threw you against it and your back hit it forcefully. You gasped deeply, trying to calm your heavy breaths, but he wouldn't let you as he suddenly ripped the sack off of your head.

You blinked into the semi-darkness, the only light came from a jar of blue little bugs whizzing and whirring inside, tinting the small room in an eerie light that cast strange shadows on the walls and on the person crouched in front of you now. For a moment you stared at him and fear gripped you all over again. He was wearing one of those creepy masks you had first encountered in the Restricted Section, but you were too freaked out to find the connection somewhat significant.

Breathing heavily, you gazed through the black holes of the mask trying to find those eyes that would usually calm you down instantly, but you couldn't see them, and for a moment you had the insane thought that this might not even be Sebastian any more. Your heart was thundering inside your chest so loudly you were afraid it would echo off the damp walls of the room. While you stared at him, the crouched figure just remained still, staring back at you out of those dead eyes, unmoving and sinister.

You swallowed hard and basically jumped and shrieked when you suddenly felt his hands on your thighs. You saw him tilting his head, that eerie mask doing nothing to make it look less threatening. Without giving you a moment to relax, he then leaned up, grabbed your jaw, forced your mouth open and pushed a ball of fabric into it. Squirming and whimpering loudly against it, you couldn't do anything but let him push you against the back of the chair, firmly holding you in place as he stared at you – and you felt the first tear falling from the corner of your eye.

It was a tiny gesture, but when you felt his other hand moving up to scrape his fingertips over your cheek, wiping it off almost nonchalantly, you reminded yourself that this was just a scene, something you planned with him a while back, and even though it had slipped your mind, he seemed to have thought about it a lot. Or he was just naturally good at playing a predator, who knew.

You felt your legs shaking when he suddenly gripped your throat and pulled you upwards, that pathetic muffled squeak trying to force its way through your gag barely audible over the blood rushing through your ears. He held you like that for a moment while his other hand grabbed your wrists and pushed them together, his long fingers easily reaching around them both as he then pulled them above your head.

Letting go of your throat, you felt him tie something around your wrists, too tight for comfort, but as you squirmed, he ignored you and instead you heard a clanging sound, and then your tied wrists hung from a metal hook secured to the ceiling. He stepped back then and watched you, his head tilted again, that horrible mask getting scarier with the minute.

Your hands closed around the chain over your head and you felt your body getting heavier and heavier while you hung from that hook like a gutted pig. At least that was the first image that came to your clouded mind when the tips of your shoes scraped over the dirty floor as you tried to get back any sense of balance.

More moments of uncomfortable silence ticked past in which you wondered what would happen next. At first you had tried to remember the details you had talked about, but with your heart thumping so loudly it was hard to think of anything else but the very present fear – because despite the fact that you both planned this, it felt all too real for you. You were helpless and vulnerable and at the mercy of this masked stranger who you really hoped was Sebastian, but you couldn't be sure.

He was wearing a dark cloak and that mask was big enough to cover any sign of hair peeking through. His hands were in his pockets and just from the stature, he could be anyone. Any tall, dark man – and you prayed to anyone listening that it was not just anyone because that thought alone tightened that nervous knot inside your stomach tenfold. And even though this was supposed to be a sexy fantasy, the shivers running down your spine were not in any way or form connected to any feelings of arousal.

That was until he stepped closer and started gripping your clothes, and without any warning ripped them off of your body, starting with your shirt, and your eyes went wide when the buttons flew into all directions as he forced it apart to expose your chemise beneath. You couldn't help the sudden movement of your chest and the muffled shrieks of protest. He did the same with your skirt, instead of pushing it down your hips, he ripped the fabric into shreds, leaving your clothes completely useless should you ever get out of this situation.

Which for a moment you were seriously afraid would not happen.

Watching him with growing concern, you then noticed him slipping a hand into his pocket and when he got out one of those big cutting knives you'd seen the house-elves in the kitchens use, you squirmed even more, your legs twitching badly as you stood unsteadily on your toes. That mask tilted almost mockingly as he approached you, bringing the knife closer to your face, the eerie blue light reflecting off the shiny surface of the blade.

He teased the sharp tip against your skin and you did everything in your power to stay completely still, which felt impossible with how you were tied to the ceiling. Holding your breath, you witnessed him moving the knife lower, over your throat, scraping over your collarbone and down to the hem of your chemise.

His other hand moved over the curve of your body, following the white fabric down over your hips to your thighs where he slipped it past its hem and pushed it upwards, exposing your bloomers beneath. You swallowed hard, or tried to, the gag slowly soaking up your saliva to the point that it wouldn't hold any more. Those black eye holes watched you as he moved the knife to the top of your chemise and strained it against the fabric until it ripped.

You could feel the dull side of the cold blade on your skin as he gripped it by the handle and cut your garment in a downwards motion as if he wanted to gut you in the process. The shivers came as involuntarily as your deep whimpers. The sound of tearing fabric filled your ears until he was done. Dropping the knife on the chair, he gripped the edges with both hands and ripped it open, freeing your quivering breasts. The cold air of the cellar hit them and you took a shuddering breath through your nose.

After pushing your ruined chemise off your shoulders, he wasted no time to put his big hands on your chest, eagerly groping and fondling your soft flesh, pressing his palms right against your nipples. You squirmed against him, breathing loudly through your nose. Then he leaned back suddenly, one hand still trailing around your areola, while the other wandered down to the waistband of your bloomers.

This time he simply pushed it down over your hip slowly before he knelt down in front of you and wrangled the piece of clothing off of your legs, removing your stockings and shoes as well while he was down there. Completely exposed now, you felt more and more shivers as the cold air of the room hit your skin – and that freakish mask kept staring up at you with an unchanging expression and dead eyes.

You felt his hands on your shins, slowly moving upwards, his grip firm and demanding, grazing your knees and kneading your thighs, grabbing your hips and pressing his fingers into your soft flesh, then going back up right to your breasts as he stood up again. Teasing them with his fingers, he then walked around you and snaked his hands around you from behind, grabbing your chest tightly as he pressed his body against your backside.

Whimpering into your drenched gag, you squirmed against him as he put his knee between your legs and slowly forced them open. The chain above your head rattled alarmingly as you swayed to keep your balance and felt your entire weight pushing on the tie around your wrists. Seeing you struggle, he moved his fingers over your ribcage and upwards to your armpits – and you already saw it coming and still squealed loudly when he started tickling you mercilessly.

You squirmed even more, threatening to completely lose your balance as his fingertips teased your sensitive skin. He let go of you rather quickly, but instead of giving you a break, you felt his hand moving right between your legs and grabbing your mound forcefully, the touch equally shocking and despite the implications unexpected. You writhed against him, trying to press your thighs together, but his knee was still lodged between them, keeping them open as he teased his fingers through your folds.

There he hesitated. As your heart was thundering in your chest, he let go, removed his knee and walked around you once more, tilting his head menacingly. You stared at the mask, your eyebrows furrowed. He then leaned in, grabbed your chin and pulled the soaked gag out of your mouth, strands of saliva following the motion. Wiping at your trembling lips, he walked closer and you could smell the old leather of the mask as he leaned it against your forehead.

Being this close, you could actually see his eyes through the dark holes of his disguise and a deep sigh escaped you. You bit your lip and watched him. “You're not enjoying yourself, huh?” you heard his deep voice, muffled by the mask but still recognizable enough. To prove his point, he moved his hand back between your legs and poked at your centre. “Well, you're getting there...”

And of course you would, you could never resist the firm touch of his fingers for long enough. Your body had a mind of its own. Though it had taken you surprisingly long to adjust to this rather unusual situation. Despite the planned scenario, it had still taken you by the surprise. And you learned that thinking about something and actually doing it, were two different things.

“Let's change things up a bit, shall we?” he said quietly and you watched him walk around you once more. As you turned your head slightly to follow him with your eyes, you had barely time to react as he suddenly wrapped a piece of clothing around your head, shrouding the room and anything in it in complete darkness. You gasped, feeling his fingers gliding over the edges of your face before he tied the blindfold tightly at the back of your head, taking away the last thing that had kept you more or less sane: your sight.

Seeing nothing, your other senses seemed to spike up immediately. Every touch felt much more intense, every sound louder than before, your own heartbeat drumming deafeningly in your ears. It got even worse when he stopped touching you and stepped away, leaving you to your dark thoughts.

It got harder and harder to remind yourself that this was a staged scenario, he was just too good in making you really uncomfortable. You felt so vulnerable and exposed, your arms started to hurt and your wrists were burning from the rough material cutting into your skin. Your naked feet scraped over the dirty floor as you tried to ease the pressure on your joints.

In all your struggles you somehow forgot that he was still there, somewhere, and when you suddenly felt his hands on your waist, lifting you from the ground, you couldn't help but shriek. You heard a weird scratching sound and when he put you down again, you were standing on some sort of box, with both feet flat on the rough surface, the tension in your arms lessening immediately.

Grabbing the chains firmer, no longer hanging from the ceiling, you tried your best to hold your balance once more. You were almost willing to thank him, but then his arms wrapped around your middle and you felt his hot mouth between your shoulder blades, sucking on your skin. Goosebumps rippled over your limbs in waves, all the way down to your thighs and only then did the heat start to pool between your legs.

Inhaling deeply, almost relaxed in his grip, you didn't realize that he lowered one hand until you felt something scraping over your skin. He put one messy kiss between your shoulders and then let go, focusing on what he was doing on your leg. One hand gripped your thigh, kneading the soft flesh almost painfully, as something cold and hard pressed against the back of your leg. You felt him shifting and you could only guess that he was crouching in front of you as something caused a clanging sound on the floor.

Grabbing your thighs with both hands now, he forced your legs apart. You shivered deeply, already threatening to lose your balance on the box, as he leaned in and planted wet kisses on your soft skin. His tongue lapped at your inner thighs with broad strokes, leaving a trail of quickly cooling saliva on your legs. A whimper escaped you while your breath caught in your throat. He continued his journey upwards, his breath hot and loud as his hands moved up the back of your thighs and firmly grabbed your ass, coaxing another shrill shriek out of you.

While he kneaded your cheeks with strong fingers, almost bruising your skin, his mouth had moved right to your centre and without any warning or whatsoever you could feel the tip of his hot tongue pressing against your clit. You squirmed, the chain rattling in your grip, your thighs twitching uncontrollably under the sudden touch. He kept at it, circling your nub vigorously, sucking it into his mouth, even biting it softly – and all you could do was whine and writhe in your confines. You would have kicked your legs, but then you'd have lost your balance completely.

Suddenly he took that thought right out of your mind and lifted you up swiftly, his hands cupping your rear, draping your quivering legs around his neck as he pushed his face deeper against your folds. You squeaked and in your surprise, tightened your thighs around his head. He responded by grazing your soft lips with his teeth and you squirmed only more. You felt him sucking on them, pulling on them, teasing them inside and out, his tongue hot on your sensitive skin.

His nose brushed against that throbbing bundle of nerves as he continued parting your folds with his mouth until he moved straight to your entrance, poking the tip of his tongue against it until you couldn't help it and felt your walls clenching around nothing but air. Until that changed and they were clenching around his tongue as he pushed it right into you, his muffled breaths almost as arousing as his bold move. For a moment you forgot about your hands tied to the ceiling and the damp surroundings and the things that happened prior.

All you felt was his hot mouth on you, stimulating every single nerve and muscle it could reach and more – a rather familiar feeling that soothed you as much as it turned you on. You were so lost in the sensation that the noise you heard in the back of your mind almost didn't register with you.

Footsteps.

You only heard them when he suddenly halted his movements, slowly withdrawing his tongue, leaving your quivering cunt longing for more. That want quickly froze when you felt him lean back and lower your legs back to the ground. A deep shiver rushed through you as he grabbed your throat and whispered: “I'll be right back.”

You let out a panicked noise that was a mixture of a whine and a groan as you squirmed in your confines, your heart thundering in your chest, making it hard to hear the noises around you. But those footsteps had been there and they absolutely did not fit into your planned scenario. What was going on?

The longer he was gone, the bigger the knot inside your stomach grew. You felt the cold air on your exposed skin, your centre throbbing in neglect, your chest rising and falling fast. Just when panic settled in and your mind produced the most horrifying outcomes of what could happen, something did happen.

Without hearing him beforehand, you felt his hand on your wrists and his other arm around your waist, as he lifted you up and off the hook you had been bound to. He carried you off the box until he put you down, stomach-first, on a cold, smooth surface, your legs hanging off before you placed your feet gingerly on the floor. He grabbed your tied hands and attached something to it and you heard another clinking sound, then something pulled on them and stretched your arms, causing you to slide a little over the table or whatever you were lying on.

With only your chest and stomach touching the surface, you raised your head to listen intently, but with how your arms pressed against your ears and how your own blood rushed through them loudly, you had trouble hearing anything. Yet another sense ripped from your arsenal. You whimpered softly at the realization, the tension building up more and more. And it wasn't the good kind of tension. It was fear.

You kept thinking back to the sound of footsteps and it drove you crazy that you couldn't completely confirm them. But he had left you right after you supposedly heard them, so who had he met? Who was there with him? Was there somebody else or had that noise come from outside and he had just checked if it was still safe? You couldn't say it for sure and it caused goosebumps to wash over your exposed limbs.

When something else washed over them, you shrieked, before you realized it was his hands. Or so you hoped. Fingers moved over your skin, tracing the curves of your body until they gripped your waist and pulled you back a little, a hard edge hitting your chin in the process. You groaned slightly and turned your head to rest it on the table. He didn't seem to care and you felt him pushing your legs apart with his body.

For a moment he just stood there, his fingers digging into your skin, before he leaned back quickly and disappeared again. Not for too long, as you then felt his hands on your ankles where he tied each of them to what you assumed to be a leg of the table. With your legs forced open like that, you felt a cold shudder rushing through you. You'd never felt this vulnerable before and you were still debating if you liked it or not.

He didn't give you time to adjust when you suddenly felt something pressing against your exposed folds. You braced yourself, but that was where the touch ended. He just swiped whatever it was through your slick and moved back again, putting something down beside your hip. His hands now moved to your rear and he started kneaded your flesh firmly, squeezing and almost bruising, pulling your cheeks apart and teasing at your folds until he moved a little upwards.

You squirmed wildly against your restraints as you felt his finger poking against your other hole, a whimpered “No!” escaping you, but he didn't seem to mind your noises. One hand caressed your curves towards your hip before it moved away, possibly gripping what he had put down earlier, while his fingertip kept drawing circles around your sensitive skin, teasing it further. You were breathing heavily, everything inside you fighting against whatever he had planned.

In your panicked haze you went through the list you had made and you wondered if this was anywhere on there, you just couldn't be sure, but something also kept you from calling out your safeword just yet. It felt uncomfortable, but also too new and exotic to actually know what it might feel like. And despite everything you were at least a little curious. And luckily for you, he really wanted to quench your thirst for knowledge.

You felt him swipe something through your wetness once more as his other finger withdrew from your ass, only to come down hard and swift as his hand slapped your cheek with a force that sent a shock wave through your body. Your surprised shriek echoed loudly off the walls of the room. He did it once more and you shrieked again, and as you braced for a third time it never came, instead he pushed something small and solid against your hole, and as you gasped deeply, you felt it slipping in.

Whimpering softly, your muscles clenching around it almost involuntarily, you felt him caressing your skin, his palm pressing against it, before he put his fingers around the object and pulled at it. It released with a bit of struggle and you writhed a little more. You felt his other hand slipping past your folds and moving through your wetness, before a finger of the same hand moved up and poked at your hole – and you inhaled sharply when he actually pushed in, smearing your slick around the tight ring of muscles.

You felt weird, it was an unknown kind of pressure and you didn't know if you liked it or not. It made your legs twitch against their confines and the sensation rushed down to your cunt, but feeling his finger in there just didn't sit right with you. He withdrew it then and replaced it with the object he had pushed in earlier. You gasped again and felt it just resting there, held tightly by your muscles, stretching your skin slightly.

And he left it there as he moved downwards again, his fingers slipping through your slick, rubbing and pressing and drawing lazy circles. Somehow you relaxed again a little bit, but only until he pushed two fingers past your folds and straight against that sweet spot as he simultaneously lowered his thumb to rub against your clit. You bucked your hips in response, letting out a moan-shriek. The tension in your stomach tightened and you had to bite your lip to not fall apart completely at the sensation.

He held his hand like that for a moment, just poking and prodding and stimulating, and you felt your legs giving in. Luckily you didn't really need them. As arousal flooded your clouded mind, you started breathing heavier, unconsciously jerking your hips against his hand, desperate for that extra bit of friction, but then he let go completely and you were left hanging, so close to feeling a little bit better, and yet so far away now.

Breathing loudly through your nose to show him your disapproval, you were forced to wait then as nothing else happened. You felt that thing in your butt as you started clenching your muscles around it out of sheer necessity, but that was all, it did nothing to bring you anywhere near your release. Sighing deeply, you shifted helplessly on the table.

With your arms over your ears and the blindfold still in place, ridding you of seeing and hearing anything, your mind began to wander to places you weren't so sure about wanting to reach. Darkness engulfed you not only physically, but threatened to fill your head as well. Once again you imagined the worst possible things happening, all of them diverging from that scenario you and your boyfriend had planned out ages ago, it felt like.

You realized he had led you right here, planting that idea in your head, making it sound so appealing, manipulating you into liking and wanting it, when in reality you weren't so sure any more.

It might have been boring to some (and him most certainly), but you liked it when he would just push you into the mattress, his body weight on you as he pressed himself inside you, slamming his hips into yours, as you would hold onto him and let him do his thing because that always was a guaranteed success in pushing you over the edge, repeatedly. He'd hit all the right spots, taking you to familiar heights, before he would fill you up with his warmth and stay like that until you were both too groggy to move. You couldn't count the times he would fall asleep on top of you with his cock still buried inside you. And you liked it like that. It felt safe and comforting and right.

But now you were strapped to a table, blindfolded and unaware, your legs forced open, something unfamiliar stuck in your ass, your thighs twitching in anticipation, and you felt cold and tense and vulnerable. And you hated waiting more than anything. Patience was not a virtue for you, and you knew that Sebastian knew that as well – and it made perfect sense that he would torture you like this. He was as predictable as he was unpredictable.

Breathing loudly through your nose, you tapped your feet nervously, about the only movement you could do anyway. You wanted him to see how impatient you were and frankly, focusing on that made you feel a little better as it gave you something to do. It drove away your discomfort and the fear still gnawing at the edges of your mind where questions like What if he just leaves me here like that? rolled around lazily, slightly growing with every passing heartbeat.

Just when the questions became louder and louder, you suddenly felt a hand on your hip, gripping tightly, and then, without warning and with your mind still occupied with doubts and fears, you felt him pressing his hard tip against your entrance. You squirmed under the pressure, your body not ready at all for the intrusion, yet he didn't care and pushed further as your legs twitched and pained whimpers escaped you.

He was anything but gentle – and in the middle of experiencing pain you'd never experienced before, you thought about how lucky you were normally, with how much he prepared you, how much he cared about making you feel good, long before he would focus on his own pleasure. But this was about losing control and being at the mercy of someone, you reminded yourself, and this was what you signed up for. And you didn't like it one bit.

To say he was rough was an understatement. His fingers dug into your hips, definitely bruising your skin, as he forced his cock deeper and deeper and your walls were not complying at all. They were so clenched and tight, all his intrusion did was send shivers and shudders through your body, like tiny needles poking at every single nerve. You whined loudly, writhing beneath him and against your restraints, as tears spilled from your eyes and soaked the blindfold.

And this was just him pushing in, he hadn't even moved yet. Once he seemed satisfied with how deep he was, he halted and loosened his grip on your hips, only to drive his hands down on your ass, each slap sending more shock waves through your body. You screamed and wailed, squirming more and more, not realizing that you only made it worse by doing so. You felt your skin tingling and could only imagine how raw it must look and how you'd probably be able to see his hand imprint on your flesh.

Suddenly he poked at the thing still wedged in your ass and you let out a panicked shriek, your breaths erratic and your heart thundering in your chest. You felt him grabbing the object and turning it slightly, and as he did so, he started withdrawing from the tight grasp of your cunt, slowly, almost excruciatingly slow, and your legs twitched badly with every inch. Your muscles clenched even more and he seemed to feel it, as he then pushed back in with a grunt, and then again and again.

His noises mixed with your whimpers as he fell into a rapid pace of moving his cock in and out, completely out, only to push past your entrance every time, coaxing shrieks and whimpers and eventually moans out of you as you became more and more overwhelmed by the pain and unexpected pleasure of it. Your body soon surrendered to the sensations and all you felt were his hips slamming against your ass, the tremors rippling through your body and the thing inside your tight ring of muscles seemed to vibrate with every thrust.

You moaned and cried and whined, thrashing your head around, trying to fight it and simultaneously trying to enjoy it. It was certainly a struggle you had not anticipated. You almost lost it, as your breaths became so fast you felt light-headed and close to fainting, but then you felt his hand around your throat and he was pulling your head up slightly. You wailed in surprise and then didn't make any sound any more as he pushed his fingers past your lips and held you like that as he plunged into you over and over again at a frightening speed.

Your saliva pooled around his fingers and your gurgled noises only faded together with the slapping of skin against skin and the squelches of your slowly adjusting pussy as your wetness finally helped in making it feel a little better. He kept pushing in and out, the grip of his fingers bruising, but soon you felt too numb to feel the aching of your jaw or the roughness of his thrusts or the hold he had on the object in your ass.

It all melted together as your head started spinning and you were almost sure your release was right around the corner, so close you could almost taste it past his fingers. Your walls were fluttering around his cock, the tension inside your stomach built almost painfully, but then he let go of your head and it smacked onto the table, before he grabbed your waist and picked up his pace another notch, his grunts and groans filling the room as you were still whimpering from the collision with the table, momentarily too stunned to try to chase your own pleasure.

He, on the other hand, was hell-bent to get his before yours, it seemed. Such an unfamiliar feeling that it almost made you sad. Not that you could have felt any other emotion right now as he pounded you for what you were at that moment: a more or less willing victim, just a means for his release, a hole to fill. And when he let out a loud growl and slammed his pelvis against your ass and pulled your hips towards him at the same time, burying himself as deeply as possible, as his tight balls pushed against your folds, he did indeed that: he filled you.

You felt him pumping and twitching as he emptied himself deep inside you, his warmth spilling into every nook and cranny and soon past his length as it didn't seem to stop. You whimpered and felt your insides convulsing, but it did nothing to help you reach your own climax. That dissipated slowly as he eventually pulled out, leaving behind a hot trail of cum you could feel burning on your bruised skin. Your walls clenched around his seed in a desperate attempt to get anything out of it, but alas, that ship had sailed and it left you feeling even more miserable.

Still light-headed and not numb enough to not feel the pain pulsing through your core, you lay on the table, spent and exhausted, your thighs twitching and your stomach tense and hurting. Saliva was dripping from your parted lips and pooled beneath your cheek, but you couldn't close your mouth, you didn't have it in you. You realized then that this whole idea had been the worst you'd ever agreed to. And for a moment you hated him for convincing you to do it.

While you wallowed in your sorrow, new tears seeping into your blindfold and past it, you suddenly felt a hand on your cheek, wiping at your tears, sweat and spit, and you inhaled sharply at the sensation. Another hand slowly caressed your tense shoulders, fingers gliding over your skin and gently massaging your sore neck. A little moan escaped you and you felt a little better, but only until the hands left you again.

You listened intently, waiting for more, wanting, no, needing more, but more never came. Instead you were left with your shuddering limbs, your throbbing cunt and the strange sensation of whatever was lodged inside your ass. You inhaled deeply, trying to calm your shallow breaths, and focusing on that seemed to ease the pain and disappointment coursing through your body and soul.

For a moment that was all there was. You and the repercussions of whatever had just happened. Yet you didn't want to think about it, you couldn't. Trying to remind yourself that this was just a scenario, a planned one, and he might have mentioned something like this when he had manipulated you into agreeing to this, though it did nothing to relax your aching heart that kept drumming inside your chest.

Just when you thought you'd completely sink into the darkness surrounding you both physically and mentally, you felt something brush against your back, slowly moving over the curve of your spine until it teased against the object poking out of you. You shivered deeply. Not quite sure what had touched you, you shifted on the table, until you felt something being put on your lower back, something cold and smooth but also strangely alive, weighty enough for you to feel it was there, writhing and almost thrumming against your skin.

You froze as you tried to imagine what it was, but then you felt it uncurling on you and it got longer and skinnier as it moved between your shoulder blades and into your hair. And then you heard a faint hissing sound and you screamed bloody murder when you felt a long, thin tongue buzzing against your cheek.

“Shh!” You heard a voice behind you before someone grabbed the back of your head to hold you down as you squirmed in utter panic. “It won't harm you, unless you provoke it!”

You whimpered loudly, frozen in place, as (what you thought was) a large snake slithered around your neck and teased its small head against your jaw. Another hissing sound filled the room, loud enough to vibrate in your ears, and the snake moved back over your shoulder, its tail teasing and lightly pressing against your throat before it disappeared and seemingly coiled up on your lower back, droning slightly against your skin.

Forcing back new tears, you didn't dare to breathe. Despite dating a Slytherin, your least favourite animals were snakes. The feel of it, the sound, the weight and strength that floppy stick could possess, and the fangs and potential to kill you with just one bite was enough for you to really despise these creatures. Yet you didn't know if you ever told Sebastian this. And even if, he wouldn't be that cruel, now would he? (Your sore body seemed to disagree.)

And that hissing sound you had heard earlier poked at certain memories in your panic riddled mind, enough to distract you from the snake lying on your back for a moment. It had sounded strangely familiar, but you just couldn't put your finger on it. You turned your face to the other side and rested on your wet cheek, your lips parted and trembling as you listened into the dark room once more. And then, as if on cue, you heard it again, closer this time, and it sounded like words in a foreign language, rasping and buzzing, a deep thrumming sound that made the animal resting on top of you move again.

You could feel its muscles pressing against your skin as it slithered down your hips and then wound itself around your shaking leg until its cold pressure left you completely. You took a shuddering breath when it did, almost forgetting that you had figured out where you'd heard that hissing sound before. And the realization made you hold your breath all over again.

Your mind was racing as you wondered why, in the middle of your planned scenario (that didn't go quite as planned as you had hoped), you would hear your boyfriend's best friend talk in Parseltongue, apparently commanding a snake to tease and scare you?

What in Merlin's blasted facial hair was Ominis doing here?

(to be continued in part 2)

PART 2 IS HERE

End notes: Yes! This will turn into a Throuple/Sebinis/Threesome story! I hope you're excited! (I know I am!)

So after having written quite a lot of passive/victim!reader/mc pieces, I certainly need to reverse the roles some day. This is all adding to the list of how I can take my revenge on this naughty boy (even though he might get a taste of it in the next part /clickbait). You just wait!

For now, sorry, hope you enjoyed yet another one of those “he does things to you and you can't do anything against it” works. They are still fun to write, don't get me wrong, especially this one, even though it might have been my darkest/most deranged one yet...

Also let me remind you: despite the things I let my characters/protagonist say, I do not necessarily stand by them, like, I do have a tentacle kink and reader-chan here doesn't, so don't let them offend you! They don't know better!

Reader's favorite number is 21 because, uh, I didn't know if you knew but the 21st letter of the alphabet is U. (Makes sense, huh? I thought it was clever >_>) And I read about safewords that you should use numbers or long words instead of just banana or something. I did do my research, even for filth like this, okay?

Remember: Part two is right here!

[ masterlist ] [ kinktober masterlist ] [ ao3 ]

Kinktober submissions:

Pleasant dreams... and tentacles (somnophilia, tentacles)

It is that time again (breeding kink)

A scholar and a pervert (overstimulation, sex toys)

The horny ghost (voyeurism, masturbation, spectrophilia)

It belongs to me (deepthroating, public)

A Filthy Fantasy (2/2) (threesome, oral/vaginal/anal)

#tw: cnc #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x reader #kinktober #reader insert #f!reader #fem reader

235 notes · View notes

onlymingyus · 1 year

Text

Hallmark Moment: Daddy's Day

pairing; kim mingyu x f reader

genre; fluff, slightly suggestive

warnings; dad!mingyu, mom!reader, kids, mention of reader's mom, slightly suggestive conversation at the end, pregnancy

w/c; 1.7k and some change

requested; no

hallmark moment ONE (fluff) & TWO (fluff/smut)

a/n; this is probably the last of the hallmark moment series. i just needed to write something sweet and happy. i wasn't planning on posting anything or writing anything but i needed it. i hope you enjoy it. the header was clearly the inspiration, but the cake of course has nothing to do with the story so just work with me here.

A small, exaggerated gasp escapes the young girl’s lips as she rolls over the couch with a toy foam sword in hand. Amy laughs as she bounces off the cushion finding it only slightly difficult to get to her feet so she can point her sword in the direction of where she and Mina had deemed the evil wizard was.

“Back, back I say! You’ll never take our daddy from us.”

Mingyu grins to himself, reaching up to adjust the plastic crown that Mina had placed there a few minutes before. The ring on his pinky just barely fit on his finger to his first knuckle but it seemed to make both his daughters happy. He had let them put on both earrings and the necklace without any sighs of a fuss.

Days like this were Mingyu’s favorites. It had been just over six months since the adoptions had been finalized making Mina his, and Amy yours. Days like these reminded him how important that had been to you both when you had spoken your wedding vows not only to each other but to each of the girls just over a year ago.

With a laugh, Mingyu reaches out to catch Mina when she steps back stumbling over the rug in her valiant battle with the unseen wizard. The small girl grins from ear to ear, melting his heart as he helps her back to her feet so she can continue her task.

Instead of a sword, Mina had chosen to brandish the magic wand that had come in the princess dress-up package that Mingyu was now wearing most of. With a flick of her wrist, Mina points with the silver and blue wand dramatically.

“Your magic is no match for mine. I’m the best, right Daddy?”

Soft, beautiful eyes that were the same shade as yours look to Mingyu for validation. There was no way he couldn’t respond properly.

“Oh, absolutely sweetheart. You are the best I have ever seen with magic.”

Amy giggles at her dad’s words, her sword slicing through the air with more flex than necessary. The sword was showing its age but she didn’t seem to mind, just simply enjoying her time playing.

“And what about me?”

Mingyu smiles brightly matching Amy’s smile. Shaking his head, Mingyu takes in a deep breath extending his arms out towards the girls with the same dramatic acting they had been using the entire afternoon.

“I’ve never felt safer knowing you and your sword is in front of me Knight Amy of the House of Kim.”

With seemingly renewed confidence both girls charge at the imaginary evil wizard as Mingyu watches with amusement in his eyes. It’s only when the girls cheer at their own victory does he join in clutching at his chest at how they had saved him and his kingdom.

“I knew I could count on my brave protectors. Once again my kingdom is safe.”

Mingyu laughs when both girls run over to him to pounce on him smothering him with hugs. His arms wrap around them letting them curl into his form so they can already begin to gossip amongst themselves about how well they did. Taking the wand from Mina’s hand, Mingyu sits it on the couch behind him only to do the same with the foam sword.

Moving into the living room as silently as possible, you can’t help but smile at the sight in front of you. Your eyes move with the movement of Mingyu’s fingers pushing through both of the girl’s hair as they babble excitedly about some kingdom, wizards, and a princess. With your hand resting on your lower back you move into the room catching Mingyu’s attention first granting yourself his bright smile.

“Hey, beautiful.”

At his words, both of your daughters spring into action clambering from your husband’s side to move to hug you as best they can. Your own smile seems to warm the room making Mingyu take in a deeper breath as if he could inhale the happiness and keep it forever. Neither of you would get tired of his, seeing each other with the girls, seeing them happy like this.

“Hi, Mommy!”

“Mommy, oh my gosh. We saved Daddy from a wizard. We saved the entire kingdom!”

Your sweet laugh causes Mingyu’s smile to move toward his eyes. You were so attentive, he watches as Amy and Mina lead you to the armchair helping you to sit down so they can start to recount the entire story. How Princess Daddy was trapped in his tower by the evil wizard and Knight Amy and Sorcerer Mina found him and took care of the evil.

Glancing at Mingyu, you simply bite at your lips giving him a good once over with his crown, Mina’s wand now between his fingers as he lets his hand hang over his knee. He was the best father for your children that you could have ever asked for. The thought of him like this was enough to make you feel warm and for your heart to beat faster.

“I am so glad you saved Princess Daddy. I love him very much and would have been so very sad if something had happened to him, but look how lucky I am that I have you two to keep him safe even when I am away. I love you both.”

You watch as both girls seem to swell with pride at your words feeling like they are on top of the world at making you happy and keeping the house safe while you had your evening away from the house. Leaning to press a kiss to each of their cheeks you laugh against Mina’s skin when you hear her try to hide a yawn.

“Being a hero is very hard work. I think it’s time for bed.”

Mingyu watches you for a moment, your hand moving to the arm of your chair as you start to try to stand only for him to move more quickly.

“Please, let me put my brave heroes to bed tonight. Say goodnight to Mommy.”

Letting out a relieved breath you smile up at Mingyu who winks at you before you have both girls draped over you. Your arms wrapped around them you give them more kisses whispering how much you love them and for them to sleep well.

Mingyu glances back at you mouthing that he will be back soon, his hands gently guiding both girls toward their room and finally into their beds. Leaning down over Mina’s bed, Mingyu presses a kiss to her forehead making her smile.

“Goodnight sweetheart. I love you.”

Mina wiggles further down into her covers, her small hand reaching up to caress her dad’s cheek making the man lean into the gentle touch. It still amazed Mingyu how much someone so small could make him melt so easily.

Reaching up, Mingyu removes the crown from his head placing it on top of the girl’s head smiling at the sound of her laugh. Moving his eyes and then his feet towards the other twin bed, Mingyu takes Amy’s hand into his own lifting it to his lips to press a kiss to each small finger before grinning at hearing another sweet laugh.

“I love you, Daddy. I’m really glad we saved you.”

And I love you too. You can save me anytime, but you know I’d do the same for you, right?”

Amy smiles tiredly, her eyes beginning to close as she nods causing Mingyu to laugh softly. Slipping the ring from his pinky he puts it onto her index finger before leaning to press a kiss to his daughter’s cheek. His words whispered against her skin making her smile as she drifts off to sleep.

“Goodnight, angel.”

Mingyu only lingers in the room for a moment, his eyes moving from one bed to the other. He wanted to make sure both of his daughters were safe and comfortable. Soft happy sighs and snores told him that they were and that it was okay for him to pull the door shut and return to you.

Seeing you still sitting in the chair, your left hand moving slowly over the swell of your stomach causes Mingyu to stop in the archway. He wished he had his camera handy. He wanted to capture little moments like this forever.

Swallowing hard, Mingyu takes a step causing the floorboards the creak drawing your attention and making you smile when you see him reaching up to take off the last of the jewelry the girls had placed on him earlier. He only stops long enough to drop them onto the couch before moving next to you leaning down to press a soft lingering kiss to your soft lips that seem to make you lose your breath.

“I missed you, but I hope you had a good evening with your mom. You deserved a break, baby.”

His words were spoken against your lips, making you smile once again. Your fingernails gently scratch over the nightly stubble at his jaw causing Mingyu to grunt as he pulls away to look at you. Moving to stand in front of you, Mingyu lowers himself to sit on his heels so he is more level with your still-growing belly as your eyes move over his face.

“I missed you too, and the girls. I’m glad you had fun with them, but I did need it.”

The last of your words come out as a small laugh when you feel Mingyu’s hand run over your stomach, tickling you even slightly. A small whispered apology slips from his lips before your husband leans to kiss your stomach and rest his chin against it lightly to look up at you.

Your fingers run through his hair gently, you tilt your head to look at him lovingly. You loved moments like this. You loved how much he clearly loved you and your family. How much, Mingyu loved the little boy the two of you had made together now growing inside of you. Shaking your head, you smile running your fingers along the side of Mingyu’s face and feeling him lean into your touch before he speaks.

“Let me run you bath?”

Nodding, you bite your bottom lip as Mingyu turns his head to press a kiss to your palm.

“Only if you join me.”

Mingyu smiles against your hand before nodding in agreement.

“I’d love to, beautiful.”

please note that I am doing my best to tag -- tags are now down in reblogs -- all of you who have filled out the tag list form but tumblr won’t let me tag some of you. I think that is because either you have tags turned off or possibly a blank tumblr page. consider reblogging some of the fics you like from me or other writers. ♥

#mingyu fluff #seventeen fluff #svthub #caratwritersclub #mingyu suggestive #seventeen suggestive #svt fluff #svt suggestive #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #mingyu fanfic #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #hallmark moment

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byeoltoyuki · 2 months

Text

✧memories of us ✧ drunk in love

↳ Pairing: Jisung x Reader

❧ Genre : romance / smut /fluff / 1st love to strangers to lovers

❧ Summary: Sometimes memories are just that. Memories.

❧ Warnings: alcohol / oral (f)/ first time

A series of drabbles about you and Jisung, about your love and your heartbreak and a second chance.

❧ A/N: Hi guys! I'm not dead! I know I'm wayyyy behind the schedules (story of my life). I wish I could say I'd be more active but life got busy and I'm soon going on a 2 weeks trip so hopefully, I'd be able to write some more before leaving and schedule the updates. In the meantime, here an update that is long overdue.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ♥

Masterlist / previous / next

You regretted saying yes the moment you stepped inside the house where the party was going on. Apparently, since it became legal for all of you to be drinking and smoking, students decided to go crazy and absolutely wild, after all you were all about to leave for college. It was a good reason enough to party. The place was turned into a full night club and smelled of smoke and alcohol.

The urge to turn around and go back home was strong but you couldn’t. Yunji’s wrath was something you witnessed only once and you promised to yourself that you would do anything not to anger her.

“There you are!” Yunji appeared out of thin air with two drinks and she handed you one. “Did you know that this miserable Minho had some hidden skills?”

You snorted at the description. Really, Yunji kept pretending being annoyed with the man and yet you couldn’t not see how she glanced over her shoulder to look at the said man. “Such as?”

She quickly averted her eyes and raised her glass. “He makes amazing cocktails.”

You took a sip of your cocktail and had to admit that Yunji was right. A perfect mix of peach and vodka and something else; it was perfect. You hummed in satisfaction and looped your arm through her. “I still can’t believe you convinced me to attend the party.”

Yunji flipped her hair playfully. “I’m that convincing, I know.” Then she glanced at you, her gaze softened. “I know you’re not in your element right now, but enjoy the party nevertheless. Maybe it’s the right opportunity for you to get closer to Jisung.”

If only.

***

If there was someone who seemed to be enjoying the party to the fullest it was Jisung. You found him among the familiar faces, laughing loudly, talking to different people and looking awfully close to a brunette. You tried to ignore the jealous monster lurking under your skin, but more you observed them from afar, and angrier you got. Maybe you were angry because Jisung looked incredibly good tonight with leather pants, a black t-shirt and with a freaking choker. Maybe you were angry because he let the pretty brunette lean closer to him, being too touchy for your liking. But maybe it was also because of the two cocktails you had. Alcohol was obviously not your forte.

There wasn’t much you could do. You could either sulk in a corner while drinking or you could act on your desire. You looked down at your drink; no, there was no way you would let someone else steal him from you. Not so easily at least. You emptied your drink in one go, letting the alcohol burn your throat.

Fists clenched, you walked as confidently as you could manage. You didn’t hesitate, not even for a second as you grabbed Jisung’s arm and pulled him towards you. He yelped in surprise, eyes widening at the sight of you.

“Angel?” Obviously, he wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.

You ignored his question. You glanced quickly at the brunette and smirked. “He’s mine.” And you claimed his lips, not caring that you weren’t alone, not caring that nobody knew about your very confusing relationship. Nothing mattered except for the feel of his lips against yours.

Jisung chuckled against your lips, amused with your frustration but he didn’t complain. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him to deepen the kiss.

***

You pulled Jisung inside a room, not knowing whose room it was and honestly not caring much either. The only thing you wanted was to be alone with him. He let you lead him, chuckling on his way at your eagerness.

“You are in so much trouble, mister!” You told him as you pointed an accusing finger.

“What’s up, angel?” Jisung asked despite already knowing what was wrong with you. He had to, you couldn’t believe he could be that oblivious after everything you had shared. “You look angry.”

You took a deep breath and clenched your fists. It was hard not to implode when he was being like this. Didn’t he see what was wrong? Or was he playing with you? Two could play this game.

You unclenched your fists and looked at your pretty, bright red, painted nails. You tried to soothe your anger and look bored instead. “Oh I don’t know, Ji. Maybe I’m not amused seeing you with someone else.” You averted your eyes at him and scowled. “And here I thought we had a thing going on between us. Guess I was wrong.”

Jisung had to give it to you; you almost sounded convincing with your feigned boredom. Sadly for you, he knew exactly how tensed and annoyed you were. He took a step towards you, hands tucked in his pockets, he was smirking. “Is someone jealous?”

Your jaw twitched in annoyance. It would be so easy to admit just how badly you were jealous, but you kept your mouth shut and instead let him approach you. You quickly realized that it was a bad idea. The moment Jisung was close enough to you, you felt your resolution crumble. All you wanted was to wrap your arms around him and let him talk to you, let him reassure you.

Jisung gently grabbed your chin and tilted it up so you would look him in the eyes. His smirk turned into a genuine smile. “You do realize that you have no reason to be jealous, angel?”

“Sure about that?” Even to your ears, you sounded too bitter.

Jisung shook his head. He freed your chin only to let his thumb trace the shape of your lips. He was completely mesmerized with your lips, unable to look at anything else. You parted your lips and he didn’t hesitate to slip his thumb into your mouth. It was crazy and you were supposed to be angry at him, but all of that simply vanished the moment he started touching you. You couldn’t concentrate on anything else except for the feel of his thumb.

You bit on his thumb, the temptation just too strong.

“Fuck angel.” He groaned

Jisung couldn’t stop himself; he grabbed your face and claimed your mouth. The kiss was desperate, needy, pouring his feelings into the kiss. You melted against him as you clung to his shirt, bringing him even closer to you. You wanted to feel every inch of him. His lips parted and you didn’t hesitate as you deepened the kiss. The taste of him made you whimper desperately against his lips. You wanted him, all of him.

“Ji.” You whispered against his soft lips. “I need you.”

Jisung tensed but quickly recovered. He stroked your cheek, his gaze soft. “Are you sure?”

You gently pushed him from you, smiling at him. You had never been so sure about something in your life. You turned your back to him as you gathered your hair to one side to give him better access to the zipper.

Jisung inhaled sharply, understanding what you were asking for. He put his hands on your nape before slowly sliding and grabbing the zipper. Slowly, he started unzipping your dress but stopped midway to admire your exposed back – you groaned in response.

“Someone’s desperate.” He chuckled

“Am not!” But that was a lie and both of you knew it.

Jisung pressed his lips to your back. His lips covered every inch of your exposed back as he completely unzipped your dress. Your body responded instantly to his kisses; every place his lips touched was on fire.

You turned to face him, unable to look away from his beautiful eyes. Without breaking the eye contact, you pushed the dress and let it fall on the floor by your feet. Jisung’s breath hitched in his throat at the sight before him. You wore no bra under the dress which left you only in your panties. The urge to hide from his intense gaze was strong but you fought back. You wanted it. You wanted him to touch you. You grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the bed.

“Y/N.” Jisung tug your hands. You glanced over your shoulder, almost surprised to hear him call you by your name instead of his favorite nickname for you. Your heart swelled with love at the sight of his worried frown. “Are you really sure about it?”

You pecked his lips in response and smiled. “More than sure.”

You climbed on the bed, getting comfortable before you spread your arms, inviting him to come and claim you.

Jisung stood by the bed, his eyes roaming over your body, memorizing every mole, every tiny scars on your body. He couldn’t deny that he wanted you desperately, his pants were getting more and more uncomfortable.

“Come on, Ji.” You pleaded

Jisung ruffled his hair in frustration. “Fuck it.” He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, throwing it across the room, before getting rid of the last piece of clothes.

You couldn’t avert your eyes from him even if you wanted. Jisung stood completely naked before you and looked confident and terribly beautiful. The urge to touch him and explore his body was impossible to ignore. But Jisung was faster. He joined you, body pressing against yours.

“You are so damn beautiful, I hope you know it.” He confessed and placed warm and wet kisses all over your neck, gently biting your skin. “I am so damn lucky, angel.”

And so were you, you thought as you pressed his head against you.

Jisung’s lips found yours once more. The kiss was no longer needy but gentle and sweet. He was taking his time, wanting you to feel all he felt for you, wanting to show you how much he cared.

“I’m going to take care of you, angel.” He promised. And you knew he would.

A soft moaned escaped your lips as his lips traveled down your skin. He made sure that no spot was left unkissed. He made sure that no spot was left unmarked. Jisung grabbed your panties and slowly took them off you. He took his sweet time, once more placing kisses all over your thighs, your knees.

You shivered, feeling even more exposed now. Exposed, yet terribly excited judging by how wet Jisung got you with just kisses. You would have been embarrassed any other time, but not tonight. Not when he was admiring your body with so much fondness and lust in his eyes.

“So fucking beautiful.” Jisung whispered more to himself than to you, as he gently spread your legs. “And mine.”

Jisung came face to face with your pussy and gave it a lick to have a taste – you shuddered at the sensation. “Oh fuck.” He wanted to take it slow, to make you come on his tongue, around his fingers, but now that he had a taste, he wasn’t sure he could control himself. He dived in, unable to stop himself.

“Oh my god, Ji.” You moaned and grabbed the sheets, holding for your dear life as he feasted on you. You knew it would be good, you had spent hours in your bed, touching yourself, imagining it would be him, but the real thing was so much better.

Jisung ate you like a starved man, lips and tongue working, devouring you in a way that left you begging for more. You pushed your hips to feel more, needing more. With every flick of his tongue, your grip on the sheets got stronger and you wondered if in the moment of pure bliss, you would tear the sheets apart.

“You taste so good, angel.” Jisung growled against your flesh. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. Hard.

You cried out loudly, unable to contain your voice. And who cared if someone heard you anyway? You wanted the whole world to know just how good Jisung made you feel. You wanted them to know that he was yours and only yours.

“Fuck, I can’t get enough.” Jisung confessed, completely gone.

“Ji, I think I’m going to come.” You managed to say, your legs shaking. And Jisung sucked only harder, making your toes curl and your stomach clench before finally you completely let go in a silent scream.

Jisung straightened his back and licked his lips. He hummed in satisfaction as he stared at you, grinning. “You, my sweet angel,” and he hovered over you, “Taste divine.” And he kissed you, letting you taste yourself. And fuck if you didn’t come a second time just from that.

Jisung pulled back, his hands back on your thighs as he spread you more for him. He guided his throbbing, hard cock to your pussy and brushed your folds. You gasped, your heart pounding hard inside your chest.

“Sure?” He asked again, trying to resist the urge to just pound into you.

You groaned and nudged him with your leg. “Jisung, I swear to god, just fuck me!”

“So bossy!” But he obliged. Finally. Slowly, he slipped inside you, inch by inch, trying not to hurt you. “Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.”

“Fu-uck.” You shut your eyes tightly, trying to relax, trying to take all of him inside you. But it was too much.

“Hey there,” Jisung peppered your face with kisses as he slid his hand between your bodies, reaching for your clit to distract you from the pain. “You’re doing so good, my little angel.”

Jisung gave you the time you needed to adjust. He watched your every wince, your every breath, waiting for the sign you were ready.

“Ji, you can move.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. From your tightness alone, he didn’t need if he could last and it took all of his willpower to stay still while being wrapped around your warmth. You felt just so damn good.

Jisung pulled out slightly and thrust back slowly, drawing a small moan from you. He did again and again, his thrusts gentle and controlled but you could tell from how shaky he was, it was hard for him.

You wrapped your arms tightly around him and pulled him into a wet kiss. “I can take it.”

“Y/N.”

“I promise.”

His next thrust made your eyes roll back in your head and clench around him. It felt just so good.

“Fuck, angel, don’t do that or I’m going to explode.” He begged, wanting it to last longer, wanting to feel more of your warmth.

As your body got accommodated to him, Jisung’s pace fastened, going deeper, reaching spots that made you arch your back, that made you beg for more and moan his name over and over again. Jisung was addictive, every part of him and you realized that you could never have enough.

“More, please, Ji, more.” You begged, meeting his thrusts.

“Fuck,” Jisung cursed as he felt you clench around him again. “I really won’t last.” But he refused to let go before he felt you come around his cock. Once more he reached your clit, rubbing it, drawing another loud cry from you. “Come for me, my sweet angel.”

And your body followed his command. Your stomach clenched hard one last time before everything exploded inside you in an uncontrollable wave. Your body convulsed under him, letting completely go as you screamed his name one last time.

“Just like that, good girl.” He praised you as he kept thrusting inside you, seeking his own release.

Jisung came with a low and long groan, collapsing on top of you. He couldn’t resist the urge to place some kisses on your chest, making you squirm under him which made him chuckle.

“Hey angel,” He started and moved to be inches from your face. “I hadn’t told you yet, but I love you.”

#stray kids #han jisung #stray kids smut #han jisung smut #stray kids x reader #han jisung x reader #stray kids fic #han x reader #stray kids fluff #memories of us

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daceydeath · 1 year

Note

Hi! I just recent found your page! I was wondering if you could do a story where y/n sprained her ankle during dance practice and how the boys take care of her. Scold her a bit too? Lol thank you 😊

Hi, I am glad you found me 🥰 I can absolutely write something like that for you, I just hope you like it and I don't disappoint. DaceyDeath xx

When you Fall and Hurt Yourself While Dancing - Hyung Line

Word Count: 3.1K Genre: Fluff, Angst Warnings: Swearing, injuries (obviously) Requested

Maknae line can be found here

Chan You had dropped by JYP to have lunch with Chan, he had been so busy over the past week that you knew it was going to take every spare moment you could squeeze out to see each other. As usual he was in his studio on a work call so you wandered over to the dance space to visit the others. Opening the door you were confronted with chaos, like usual really, Minho was monitoring how Innie was dancing while Seungmin and Hyunjin dicked about to annoy Changbin.

"Hi noona" Felix called excitedly skidding over to give you a hug.

"Is he still on a call?" Han laughed as you sat yourself down against the wall to watch them practice while you sipped from your water bottle. After a little while they all got back to seriously practicing blocking out the choreography for the new song that would be to title track for the new album.

"We can't get anymore done until Chan gets back" Minho sighed looking disappointed as he glared at the door in the mirror.

"Why not" you asked tilting you head confused.

"It's really hard to start the choreography practice if we don't have where each of us will be for the start point, we can't get the spacing right otherwise" Minho explained as you nodded along.

"Why don't you just have someone stand in for Chan?" you asked like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"We would need someone who isn't doing anything else for an unknown amount of time no one is just sitting around doing nothing" Hyunjin added frowning deeply as Felix laughed loudly and ran across the room to you.

"What is so funny?" Han asked looking at Felix as he took your hand and pulled you to your feet.

"Who else is sitting around waiting for Chan?" Felix asked bringing you to stand beside Changbin where Chan would be for at least the start of the choreography.

"Genius" Minho grinned turning back to the mirror as he started to instruct each of them what they were doing. You had no idea how long you had just been moving where ever Minho instructed you to, or at what point you started following along with the choreography but once the run through had happened half a dozen times you were following along just fine until Changbin went right instead of left and took you out.

"Fucking shitting hell" you groaned in real pain after you had gotten tangled with Changbin and ended up on the floor. "Bin you're heavy get off".

"Yah I'm sorry" he yelped getting up quickly as the others watched in amusement before noticing your face was actually screwed up in pain.

"You were meant to go left not right" you whimpered as he pulled you up making Minho cut the music to help you.

"Shit you're actually hurt" he gulped looking slightly alarmed.

"It's just my ankle and I have two" you tried joking and Changbin helped you limp to the couch to sit. "Just don't tell Channie".

Chan came back a few minutes later and was thrilled to see how far they had gotten without him and after another hour of practice they finished up. Still in pain from when you fell you didn't get straight up to kiss Chan or mention lunch instead trying to hide your grimace when Han flopped down next to you.

"Baby what happened? Are you ok?" he instantly caught your expression and tensed up.

"I had a tiny accident while I was waiting for you. It's nothing just my ankle is a little sore" you explained vaguely attempting to get up and put all your weight on your other foot.

"What tiny accident?" he narrowed his eyes looking at you suspiciously

"I fell over dancing" you admitted sheepishly biting your lip.

"I have told you dozens of time the boys mess around too much and you will get hurt" he scolded you halfheartedly swinging you into his arms "You aren't a professional baby girl"

"I'm sorry Channie, I was only trying to help with blocking out your spot while the guys practiced and I was helping before I got taken out" you pouted.

"You're lucky you're cute baby" He sighed kissing your forehead.

"Chan" you squealed as he made for the door the others following behind the pair of you.

"We are going to get this checked out, then you are going to tell me which one of them took you out" He grumbled although you could tell he meant it softer.

"I'm no snitch Christopher Bang" you snipped making him chuckle.

Lee Know In order to hone his ability to choreograph different styles and types of dances you had agreed that, even though you were not a very good dancer, you would help your boyfriend out. He had been thinking up how to choreograph a couples dance for weeks now and once he had inspiration you were going to be going to the studio to learn and practice it.

It was currently 4 am and you had been practicing for three hours now, not that you were going to complain this was his passion and you would do anything to support him. You had nothing to do the next day so you could sleep then, suppressing a yawn you got back into your starting position.

"Did you want to try it with the heels now kitten?" he asked softly looking at you with excited eyes.

"Of course love" you smiled tiredly going over to sit and change into the pretty heels that he had asked to wear when he filmed the final product, he had been very specific about the look of what he was going for you after slipping into the new shoes you took your place back beside him on the floor.

"Alright from the top. Five, six, seven eight" He counted the pain of you in and you started the first one was a little more difficult with the heels instead of sneakers but you managed not to fall on your butt.

"You did that really well kitten, do you want to try it one more time and we will go home?" he asked his grin bright as he panted slightly the sweat gleaming on his forehead. Nodding you returned to your start point even though your feet hurt and you were tired one more wouldn't hurt to make him happy. He spun you one last time moving to go into the final chorus when his foot knocked the heel you were still holding all your weight on making you crumple like a house of cards, your ankle rolling in the process. You shrieked loudly as you landed the pain in your ankle obvious before you even moved.

"Kitten???" he shouted loudly as he ran to turn the music off and then help you up. You were slipping the shoes from your feet when you noticed your ankle was already slightly swollen.

"My ankle" you whimpered sniffling a little.

"Oh shit, kitten I'm sorry I will get you some ice and I will take you to the hospital" he mumbled seeming quite lost. "I can't believe I hurt you so badly, I'm so sorry kitten". His face was pained as he looked at you tears starting to pool in his lashes.

"You didn't hurt me it was an accident" you sniffed "I'm sorry I stuffed your choreography up" you took one of his hands in yours squeezing it.

"Don't be silly kitten you're more important than a stupid dance" he huffed as he helped you hop to the couch before texting Chan who was still in his studio to help him get you to the car. You knew Chan was fast but when he burst through the door a good minute or so before Changbin and Han you knew he had properly sprinted from the studio. You were sitting with your leg up on Minho's lap he had strapped ice packs to it to keep the swelling under control.

"Shit" Chan frowned coming over to look at your ankle before clapping his hand on Minho's shoulder squeezing it "This isn't your fault, stop blaming yourself accidents happen".

"We can grab your stuff" Han swatted your hand away from trying to pick up your bag "Minho and Chan will get you to the car".

After being treated like you had broken both your legs and would never walk again, bundled into the car by the two worried looking boys and driven to the hospital where embarrassingly the others all turned up to you were diagnosed with a sprained ankle, not an incurable injury as they were all treating it, making you laugh at Minho for his dramatics about the whole thing.

"I hope you learned a lesson here kitten" Minho scolded lightly "You are never dancing in heels again, ever".

Changbin Changbin had always adored that your were so close to his members, swapping recipes with Minho, join in on the online games with the younger members and, much to everyone's relief the one that now learnt all the TikTok dances with Felix.

You were currently laughing loudly at the over the top version that Minho and Han were dancing to imitate Felix teaching you whatever this stupid one was called. Hyunjin was trying his best to give you tips and pointers on your moves but you had told him the fact that you were a crap dancer added to your mystique making them all crack up again.

"Seriously you aren't that bad a dancer" Hyunjin insisted through his giggles.

"I'm never going to be graceful Hyunjin, I'm not built for grace I'm built for falling on my face" you joked as Felix slid down the wall laughing.

"Ok, ok, we need to get it together so we can get back on track" Chan grinned trying to stop his own laughter.

"One more practice then we will record it and were done" hiccuped Jeongin who had promised to film for you today. Chan nodded as you and Felix got back into your positions and did one last run through you trying not to make a total arse of yourself before you grabbed the two over sized black hoodies and hats that you needed to disguise Felix and yourself for the clip.

"Now I know we didn't practice the jump but I know you can do it I've seen you jump on Binnie before" Felix grinned and you nodded knowing you could do it without too much issue.

"I'm heavier than you think though Felix, you sure you want me to?" you asked cautiously not wanting to seem like you were doubting his strength.

"Yeah should be easy" he reassured you pulling the hat all the way over his face and you grinned in response as you got into position to record. You put more effort into the actual video than you had playing around with Felix and Changbin was proud to see Hyunjin actually look impressed with how you moved your body. You finished up with jumping and wrapping your legs around Felix's waist as the routine needed, Felix catching you easily except he hadn't been expecting you to move with such force so you both moved out of the view of the phone.

"Shit" Felix grunted softly as he tried to maintain his balance, and failing, as you started to drop your legs you both hit the ground hard making the others laugh loudly and Jeongin stop recording.

"Fuck sorry" he chuckled until he moved and you shrieked your ankle popping loudly, he froze watching the tears run down your cheeks freely as the laughter stopped and Changbin was at your side helping Felix to move you off of him and off the floor.

"Baby! Shit I knew you shouldn't be doing stupid shit like this" Changbin yelled his worry over coming him more than anger.

"M'sorry Binnie" you cried as you felt your ankle pop again this time making the pain lessen slightly but not much.

"Changbin, take a breath it was an accident" Chan pushed him to sit beside you as Felix looked at you from across the room where he was being hugged by Hyunjin tears in his own eyes. Swallowing thickly you let Chan and Minho put ice on your ankle as they called their manager to get you to the hospital. Changbin continued holding you his concern obvious to the others.

"I'm so sorry" Felix repeated again and again watching you wince and whimper as they moved you around.

"It's not your fault Felix" you tried to reassure him.

"You shouldn't be doing these sorts of things baby, you could have hurt yourself worse or you could have hurt Felix" he muttered into you hair his voice shaking slightly.

"I'm sorry" you mumbled miserably as their manager came in with the first aid kit to help you bind your ankle before you were moved to a car to go to the hospital.

The manager took you by yourself to the hospital and you texted Felix and Changbin non stop to tell them you were alright, it was your fault and you were sorry, once you were bandaged up properly and given crutches to get around on the manager brought you back to JYP where the others were now almost finished for their day. Limping back in on the crutches they all crowded around you to cuddle you.

"What's the verdict?" Chan asked softly patting your head.

"I dislocated and sprained my ankle" you mumbled "I'll be on crutches for weeks.

Hyunjin You had been seeing Hyunjin in secret, secret from the fans at least, for about six months. Both of you being idols had put a huge amount of pressure to not let either of your fandom know, not because either of you thought your fans wouldn't be happy for you, because the company was happier just not having to deal with any sort of drama at the time. You had agreed to abide by the rules they had set for you both and so far you had managed to keep everything under wraps.

It was the second night of your groups concert and your family and Hyunjin's had made their way into Seoul to see you perform, you had obviously invited Hyunjin and his members too in order to make it less suspicious that he was there and since you shared the same company it wasn't to strange and idea that they would be supporting your group.

The show had been going well, you had performed in your duo units, done all of your crowd pleasing hits and had been interacting with the crowd making you so happy that when the encore stage started and you were all ready for your last song you didn't notice on of the streamers that had gotten caught around one of the fold backs on on the far end of the stage, going into the chorus of the last song you slipped landing hard and almost falling into the wings of the stage where you remained sitting as your ankle throbbed painfully. Your members were quick to notice when you missed your line quickly making their way over to you and cutting the song short as they helped you from the stage.

You told them to start the last song over and apologize on your behalf and, to their credit they did, but not before you hear Hyunjin's voice calling for you down the corridor.

"Go, apologize, I will use the back stage mic to apologize as well" you instructed quickly your leader agreeing and hurrying the others back to the stage.

"Princess?!?" he almost shrieked as he, Chan and Felix made their way into the room.

"Just let me make this announcement first" you swallowed the lump forming in your throat "Hi again Love Bugs, I'm sorry I could not finish the show but lets take it from the top one more time" you cheered hearing the crowd from the stage as the music started once again. The backstage microphone was taken by staff before either of you spoke.

"Princess, I have told you to always look where you are going" Hyunjin scolded lightly "What if you had seriously hurt yourself? you could end your dancing career so easily, then what would you do?".

"She knows that Hyunjinnie no need to be harsh with her" Chan soothed gesturing for Felix to give him a hand wrangling their dramatic member "Can you get your shoe off?"

"I don't know it's really painful" you sniffed your eyes watering as the members and your manager came back in after finishing the final song.

"You still need to be more careful, what if you broke something!" Hyunjin continued as he sighed worryingly.

"I'm sorry Hyunie" you whimpered

"Do you think you could stand for the final photos?" your manager asked carefully noticing how agitated Hyunjin was and how Chan was trying to ease your high top off without hurting you.

"She needs a doctor pretty quickly I would say it's already turning black" Chan interrupted looking at Hyunjin who looked at your leg wide eyed.

"Alright lets get some of the security to get you out of here and to the hospital, obviously your guests will be told and looked after and can meet you at the dorms" you manager nodded organizing two of them to carry you to the car Hyunjin in tow with Chan while Felix went back to the others to update them.

Hyunjin didn't speak to you again until you were sitting in your private room waiting for the x-ray results as Chan kept your members, family and his members updated knowing that Lee Know and Changbin would organize to take both sets of parents for a meal with their remaining members to keep them occupied until you were released.

"I'm sorry I was mean princess" Hyunjin whispered his hand squeezing yours "I just get so scared when you get any type of injury, I know you worked so hard for your dream".

"I know Hyunie" you smiled at him softly squeezing back.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting Miss" your doctor bowed walking back into your room "The x-rays are clear so it looks like it is just a sprain so we will wrap it for you and give you some pain relief but you will need to come back in a week for us to examine it again".

"Thank you doctor" Chan thanked him as the nurse who had followed him smiled gently and began strapping your ankle to keep it from swelling further.

"Just ice it continuously and use the medicine and you will be back to dancing in no time" she instructed kindly before also taking her leave.

"Let's get you some dinner the guys aren't far from here with your parents" Chan smiled as Hyunjin quickly leaned in to kiss you softly before helping you up.

"I'll be coming round to help you whenever you need me" he whispered helping you to get the crutches right.

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @armystay89, @damnyouficc, @roamingpolar, @bakedlilgoonie, @krishastumblernow,

#Stray Kids x reader #stray kids reactions #skz reactions #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #seo changbin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids requests #skz requests #skz fluff #stray kids fiction #skz fiction

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ourdawnishotterthanourday · 9 months

Text

Don't Tell The Boss (SMUT) — CEO Jeon Wonwoo

Now that you are his...again, Wonwoo finally gets the chance to show you how much you mean to him.

💼 Part of the SEVENTEEN World Series

✧ Genre: smut [18+] ♥ Pairing: female!reader x CEO!Jeon Wonwoo ✧ Word count: 2.1k ✦ Warnings: soft dom!Wonwoo, big. dick. Wonwoo. (!!), praise with pet names, spit kink, light choking, face-sitting, spanking, creampie ✎ Notes: I advise you to read the main story before reading this, but you can of course read the smut on its own :) ♕ Shout out: special thanks to @outromoni for the banner!

“Oh, fuck!” you moaned, your hips lifting up in an attempt to escape the skillful tongue of the man currently trapped beneath your thighs. Wonwoo wasn’t having it. His arms tightly wrapped around your thighs, forcefully pulling you back down onto his eager mouth, a long whine leaving your lips as he licked big fat stripes up and down your slick pussy.

Your grip tightened onto the headboard of his kingsize bed when you felt the familiar tightening of your abdomen. “W-Woo, so c-close.” The man beneath you groaned right into your pussy at the sound of your whimpers, the sensations of the vibrations causing your legs to tremble at your nearing orgasm.

There was something about the nickname that drove Wonwoo absolutely crazy – he needed to taste more of you on his tongue. That’s why he quickly changed the direction of his tongue to capture your sensitive clit, while one of his hands trailed up to squeeze one of your tits with his greedy fingers. That was enough to have you come undone for the second time with a chant of your boyfriend’s name as wave after wave of blissfulness surged through your body – the first time he’d made you cum on his fingers against the front door, right after ripping your clothes off.

When Wonwoo finally allowed you to move, your legs felt like jelly as you let yourself fall onto your back. Despite his innocent facade, the CEO wasn’t as innocent as he seemed. You know how they say it’s always the quiet ones? Well, they weren’t wrong. The man knew what he needed to do to turn you into a pathetic mess with only his mouth and fingers. Who knew what having his dick inside you would do to you?

“You did so well for me, pretty girl,” he praised, his eyes trailing over your bare body before stopping at the sticky mess between your legs. God, you looked so pretty all laid out for him. Only him.

The little praise combined with the sight of your arousal dripping from his chin already had you craving more, your walls clenching around nothing in particular. That didn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo, who moved in the space between your legs to draw his face closer to yours.

If you thought he couldn’t get any sexier, you were dead wrong. With big eyes, you watched as he leaned back over you to let his spit dribble onto one of your tits. He took a moment to spread it around your perky nipple with his tongue before diving in and sucking the pebble into his mouth.

Your hands instinctively went to his hair, pushing him further into your mound as you cried out in bliss at the feeling of his warm mouth on your skin.

The idea of spit play had never really appealed to you, mainly because you couldn’t imagine how it could ever turn anyone on. But with Wonwoo, you were convinced that almost anything could become a kink at this point. You’d happily let him spit all over you if that is what he wanted.

Wonwoo repeated the action on your other boob and then released your nipple with a pop, a string of saliva connecting his mouth with your hardened nub.

“Open your mouth, baby,” he murmured, his eyes focused back on yours, his pupils all dark and big.

As if you were on autopilot, your lips parted when his index finger lightly tapped onto your lower lip. With your thighs clenched in anticipation, you watched as another string of spit dribbled from his mouth, this time into yours. The feeling was a little odd and unfamiliar, but it was just so hot and messy.

“Fuck, look at you,” Wonwoo moaned as he pushed two of his long fingers into your mouth right after. “So pretty for me.” You were all too keen to take his fingers, wrapping your lips around them to tease him with your tongue.

“You ready for some more, hmm?” he asked, slowly sliding his fingers out of your mouth, staining your chin with both of your spit in the process. His voice was rough and deep, only intensifying your want for him.

“Please, Woo. Need you to fuck me,” you pleaded, looking up at him through heavy lids. If you didn’t have him now, you’d go crazy.

“Think you can handle that, baby?” His hands were sliding down your body, coming to a rest on your hips. Then suddenly, he was roughly pulling you into him, your bare cunt bumping against his dick. The only thing still preventing you from feeling him completely was underwear he still hadn’t gotten rid off, much to your frustration.

You moaned at the little shocks of pleasure that coursed through your body due to the sheer force of the movement. “Shit. Yes, yes! I can handle it.”

The man in front of you was quick to take his underwear off, allowing you to finally admire him in all his glory – in particular the surprisingly huge dick was now staring you in the face.

Even though the two of you hadn’t fucked yet, it wasn’t like you hadn’t seen it before. During the weeks that you’d spent with Wonwoo before you were caught, things had gotten heated on multiple occasions, and they’d usually ended with Wonwoo’s fingers inside your pussy or his dick inside your mouth. But because of everything that had happened, you’d totally forgotten about the fact that your boyfriend had been blessed with a monster cock.

“You good?” the CEO asked, getting slightly worried when you were a little too quiet for his liking. What if you didn’t want to do this anymore? He certainly didn’t want to pressure you into something you weren’t ready for.

“Just thinking about how I’m going to walk after that,” you chuckled, motioning towards his dick.

“Walking is overrated anyway,” he smirked, reminding you of the night of your first kiss, where he’d said the same thing about breathing. “But I’ll take care of you,” he added softly, leaning back down to capture your lips into a kiss that made your heart flutter.

That sweet moment only lasted for a little bit, because as soon as Wonwoo had put you into a face down, ass up position, it was like a switch in him flipped. The sight of your ass up in the air and all there for him to touch was enough to make him come untouched – not like he would do that to you, but he definitely could.

“You have such a pretty ass, baby.” The man grabbed two handfuls before bringing his right hand down. Hard.

A cry sounded from your lips as soon as Wonwoo's hand made contact with your skin. Not from the pain though. No, quite the opposite. The sting that resulted from the slap left you with a pleasant burn that made your pussy clench involuntarily.

“You like that?” he chuckled before delivering another slap to your ass, this time switching his attention to your other cheek, thriving off the sound of your moans that followed his rough actions.

“Woo, please.” The words left your lips in a needy whine.

Fuck. There you went with that nickname again. How could you sound so innocent when the position you were currently in was far from it?

“Please what, pretty girl?”

“Please fuck me. Please.” You sounded so desperate, wiggling your ass in an attempt to create some friction.

Wonwoo almost felt bad for being such a tease, but he loved it when you begged for him. It only made his cock that much harder for you.

Fortunately for you, he decided to cut you some slack and moved in closer, silencing your whimpers almost immediately when you felt his tip sliding in between your glistening folds.

“Holy shit,” Wonwoo moaned as he started to push his length into your heat, bit by bit, all the way until he’d completely bottomed out.

“Fuck, s-so big and full,” you whimpered, fisting the linen sheets at the feeling of his dick pushing into your tight hole. It was like you were being split open, your body not used to the big stretch – but it was oh so delicious.

Now, Wonwoo knew that you were tight – he’d felt as much when he’d fucked you on his fingers. But nothing had prepared him for the feeling of your tight walls hugging him so firmly – it was like he’d finally entered heaven. That combined with the view of his dick disappearing between your ass made him lose any self-control he had.

He’d intended to take it easy on you considering that you were taking him for the first time, but that ship sailed as soon as you started clenching around him.

“Won-woo!” you moaned as said man fucked you deeper and deeper into the mattress with every thrust of his hips. When he’d told you that walking was overrated, you didn’t think that he’d actually been serious. But with the way his huge cock was batting your sweet spot with every stroke, you weren’t so sure anymore. Not that you were complaining. No one had ever been able to hit the spots the way Wonwoo managed to do.

“Taking. me. so. well.,” your boyfriend grunted, squeezing onto your hips to jab into you a little harder with every word that came out of his mouth.

No words came out of your mouth. You could only whimper, feeling completely fucked out as your drool stained the perfectly white sheets.

There was no protest from your side when Wonwoo pulled you up, your back clashing against his front while your head fell back against his shoulder. His hips never stilled, the feeling of him inside you only that much deeper in this position. Being the tease he was, he also took that opportunity to throw in a little dirty talk, the combination of his deep voice and explicit commentary in your ear not doing much good for your sanity.

Feeling a little risky, you reached for the hand that was on your boob and moved it up to your throat, hoping that Wonwoo would get the hint. Oh, and he did. If anything, it made him fuck you even harder, his hips repeatedly slamming against your ass while his hand was gently wrapped around your throat. The way he kept tightening his grip just slightly before loosening it every few seconds had your head spinning, your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Desperate to feel more of his touch, you reached behind you to bury you hand into his dark brown locks, lightly pulling on it to pull his head just a little a bit closer so that you could connect your lips into a kiss – a sloppy, tongue and teeth-filled kiss that had both of you moan into each other’s mouths.

“Fuck, Woo. Gonna c-cum,” you stuttered out, tightening the hand that was in Wonwoo’s hair as your hips weakly pushed back against his, barely keeping up with his pace.

Wonwoo, who had been quite close himself, buried his face into your neck at your words, sucking a mark into it while the hand that had been around your throat moved down to your throbbing clit.

“You gonna let me cum in your pretty pussy?” he asked, his lips now back at your ear while his hand rubbed quick circles into your clit. The man could feel the effect his question had had on you, your walls fluttering almost immediately in response. “Fuck,” he cursed, jerking up into you.

“Yes! Want it, want it,” you mumbled, a sudden wave of white flashing before your eyes as you reached your high. “So good-ah!” you mewled, your body starting to shake and your walls violently convulsing around your boyfriend’s dick.

Wonwoo was a goner not much later, his hips stilling as his dick filled your cunt with warm spurts of cum, leaving the both of you with a satisfying buzz.

“I’m definitely gonna need those two days to recover from this,” you whined, letting yourself fall face-forward onto the bed. Your body was completely spent with the way Wonwoo had handled it.

Despite your small protests, Wonwoo managed to roll you onto your back. “Oh, but you don’t think I’m done with you, right? We have a lot to make up for.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” he asked, pointing to his dick, which was already semi-hard again.

“Oh boy,” you giggled, already mentally preparing yourself for the rest of the day...and the next.

Go back to the CHAPTER.

© All right reserved — ourdawnishotterthanourday // Please do not repost or edit any of my works without my permission!! If you see any of my works outside of this Tumblr, pls report it to me asap. Thank you in advance!

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#JiJis series #seventeen world #fic: don't tell the boss #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #svt #seventeen #svt wonwoo #svt wonwoo smut #svt au #seventeen au #wonwoo fic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo imagine

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kitthepurplepotato · 4 months

Text

🎄Love letters and mistletoes!🎄

Purple Potato Christmas Special!

~•🥦•~

Pairing: Midoriya Izuku x Reader

Genre: One shot - Fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, hint of angst on Izuku’s side (five sentences max)

Summary: With Izuku’s favorite holiday approaching, you decide to give your work partner a present he’ll never forget. Is that a good or a bad thing? - we shall see.

Warnings: Swear words, mention of someone getting hurt, Midoriya is quite depressed at the beginning of the story.

Two more warnings: The story is really fluffy and cute but it’s quite melancholic overall, except the ending!

Also, English isn’t my first language so please be kind! Feel free to send me a message if I messed something up really badly!

If you like the story please check my Master List! 🥦

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Merry Christmas, everyone!” Midoriya Izuku raises his glass of orange juice with a proud smile on his face. “Thank you very much for your hard work, as always. I’m so lucky to have you, guys.”

“Cheers, boss!” Your half-drunk colleague yells, making the whole team and Midoriya giggle with his shenanigans.

There is one thing everyone knows about the “boss”; he’s humble to a fault. Whenever something good happens it’s always his agency who gets the praise; Izuku Midoriya can’t take a compliment to this day and he just makes everything sound like a team effort even though he’s the one doing 95% of the job, saving people back and forth, 7 days a week with no holidays in between but he never even complains once.

Well, not in public. He doesn’t complain to anyone but you and that’s the biggest achievement of your whole life, to be honest.

You started working at Midoriya’s agency when you were twenty; pro hero Deku was already a big name back then. He was just about to open his own agency but he had no idea about the business side of it; you still have no clue how you managed to get this job with your non-existent experience but here you are, five years later, sitting in the massive meeting room now decorated with garlands and string lights, while you look at your favorite companion with nothing but love and respect.

Midoriya Izuku absolutely adores Christmas. He decorates the whole agency every year, usually by himself then brings a ridiculous amount of food for the team to feast on after their working hours which he insists he made by himself, but judging by the seasoning it’s probably Dynamight’s doing who also insists “he has nothing to do with this shit.”

Both of these people are terrible liars, by the way.

This year, you were lucky enough to help Midoriya with the decorations. You couldn’t believe it when he asked you to stay longer with him; he might be the friendliest person in the whole world but when it comes to things like this, he somehow enjoys to do them alone, with no one around, just him and the Christmas music blasting from the speakers as the sun slowly sets in the background.

He was much worse five years ago; he loved to chat around about silly things but he absolutely hated to talk about himself, about his feelings, about his plans, about anything that involved him, really; he always changed the topic to something else (or someone else) as the first personal question left the other person’s mouth. After a while, the team just gave up on Midoriya Izuku and they only talked about themselves with him but you couldn’t ignore the massive bags under the hero’s eyes, nor his self-deprecating words when someone somehow managed to make him talk about something personal; you’ve always found the most ridiculous excuses to stay behind with him, to be next to him, to give him support, even if it’s from far away.

Things have started to change on a gloomy Thursday afternoon; Midoriya’s agency managed to catch a massive villain group but not without a price; one of the sidekicks got gravely injured, barely made it out alive and you knew Midoriya was blaming himself for it.

You were just about to leave for the day when you heard the tiny sniffles coming out of his office; needless to say you threw all your belongings on the floor and ran towards the sound right away.

Midoriya was a mess. His eyes were swollen, tears streaking down his cheeks as he continued typing on the computer, completely ignoring his fickle mental state just so he can do some more work. He didn’t even look up from his screen as you opened the door; he tried to school the scowl on his face, he really did, but it was all in vain - he couldn’t hide his red-rimmed eyes or the bags under it.

“Hey, your shift is over, go home. Enjoy your evening, Y/N, I’ll be out myself in a second.”

Lies.

“I’ll wait for you then.” You sat down on the sofa right next to his desk, faking obliviousness.

The silence was awkward, but somehow Midoriya could sense that you wouldn’t leave even if he would have insisted for you to do so, so he nodded to no one in particular and continued his paperwork, continued the sniffling and then finally, the tears came and none of you said a single word about it.

Not until Midoriya Izuku finally broke.

“I should have been there. I should have saved him from that blow…” He muttered to the screen in front of him. You’ve never seen him so heartbroken before and it broke your heart, you could hear it shatter on the floor as you looked up to see the young, Number One hero who’s usually so full of energy and positive thoughts crouching by the computer with nothing but pure blankness in his eyes.

“You were on the other side of the battlefield. I checked the footage already. You can’t save everyone, Midoriya. No human being can, not even All Might.” You whispered into the silence. “She’s okay, by the way. It was a close call but she’ll be fine. Your quick response saved her life. You are not the reason for her suffering. You are the reason she’s still alive.”

Midoriya looked at you like this is the first time he’s seen you for real; your voice was raw, much deeper than your usual work-voice but apparently it was the right choice to show your real self to him because after this, something changed; his walls started to crack as he looked up at you, vulnerable and raw.

“Why are you here, Y/N?” Midoriya asked, but there was no malice in his voice; it was quite the opposite actually; it felt like Midoriya has opened up a bit, let you see the broken pieces inside him then he let you choose if you want to stay or leave.

“Because I really want to hug you.”

Midoriya’s walls shattered completely in only a few seconds after that. You wanted to share his pain and your wish was granted; Midoriya couldn’t stop the tears anymore, his cry loud and incoherent as he meandered over and sat down next to you. His head landed on your shoulders with a loud thump and he cried and cried, for a few minutes or hours, you have no idea but eventually, the sobs subdued and there was silence, a really comfortable one at that. Your fingers raked through the messy, unwashed curls as Midoriya finally let himself fall asleep in your arms, probably for the first time in the last 48 hours.

Something shifted around you two after that. You didn’t need to ask what’s wrong anymore; if you stayed longer for no reason Midoriya took it as an invite to went, talked about his life, about his problems, no fake smiles, just words and incoherent mumbles as Izuku let out everything that has been bothering him during the day in one go.

It was quite a surprise to see Midoriya’s “ugly” side; you didn’t think he had so much hatred in him, mostly towards himself, you didn’t think he could get so offended by stupid things like the comment section on his Instagram profile but the most surprising thing was that somehow, during his rants and smile-free conversations you managed to fall in love with his broken soul and it only got worse once he let you in when things were good as well; his smile came back and it became more real when it was only the two of you in the building and it made the butterflies have a break dance battle in your tummy, it made your chest tighten, and finally, it made your heart beat in a new, strange way and it felt so right yet so wrong at the same time you couldn’t decide what to do with it for years.

You two became close friends after that. Midoriya invited you to come with him every time his friends went out drinking then kept you close and safe until the end of the night, he opened your door for you and didn’t leave until you fell asleep. You were his plus one whenever there was an event he had to attend, casual or business, you stayed at his office and listened to him talk almost every day, but that was all, there was never a sign from him that he wants this to be more than a close, work-related friendship so you’ve never made a move. It’s not like there haven’t been a chance to do so; oh no, there have been several; like the time you two ended up cuddling on his sofa while you watched a movie after a ridiculously busy week. Midoriya’s fingers went up and down your naked arms while you nuzzled into his neck, happy and content and you were so close to leave a tiny kiss there, but you stopped yourself because you felt like… this, whatever this was, was too pure to ruin with your “dirty”, unrequited feelings.

You didn’t think you will ever have a chance and to be honest, you still don’t think so… But there was this one moment, just a few days before, that made you think that maybe, telling him about your feelings wouldn’t be the end of the world and knowing how understanding Midoriya is, he would probably fight for this friendship even if you fuck it all up with your confession.

You two laughed so much during the decorating and it really didn’t feel like overtime; Midoriya’s honest, sweet laughs were much better than the loaded paycheck by the end of the month. It took you guys ages to finish the whole thing so you two ended up crashing on Midoriya’s office sofa after a quick shower in the communal bathroom.

There wasn’t enough space for the two of you to be comfortable so soon enough you ended up cuddling, Midoriya’s thighs halfway down the sofa but somehow, both of you felt content like that, like it was normal, like it was meant to be.

“Y/N, can I ask you a silly question?” Midoriya mumbled, halfway asleep.

“Hm?”

“Have you ever felt like you have everything you’ve ever wanted but somehow, something is still missing? Is it selfish to want more than what you can get… sometimes?” You couldn’t miss the way Midoriya’s hand clenched by your middle as he said that.

“Midoriya, I respect you but all you’ve got is several mental issues and a good job. There is more to life than that.”

Midoriya’s ugly snort was the cutest thing you’ve ever heard in your life.

“Like what?”

“Uhm…” You giggled into Midoriya’s neck. “Puppies. Seeing the world. Learning something new. And uhm… falling in love, maybe…”

“Have you ever been in love, Y/N?” Midoriya asked, and the conversation turned serious. “Is that something you wish for?”

“Only with the right person.” You admitted. “I don’t want to go on blind dates and stuff. I just want… this. Being content. And happy. With someone I respect and adore.”

“Are you happy now?” Midoriya’s voice was right next to your ears but somehow, it sounded so far away; like he’s talking to someone else, to someone watching you two from above, a deity or a guardian Angel.

“Right now? I am.”

~•🥦•~

Being Midoriya’s friend was getting harder and harder every day. The urge to touch, to kiss the fresh scars on his nose were almost unbearable sometimes, especially on the days when Midoriya was hard on himself for no reason whatsoever. Thankfully, most days - now that Christmas was approaching - were filled with Midoriya’s laughter instead of the sound of his heartbroken sniffles.

The first day after decorating the office is always fun; everyone cheers as their eyes meet the thousands of colors swirling around the walls, dread of the early morning long forgotten; the Christmas snacks in the cafeteria makes everyone’s lunch a tiny bit more cheerful - there isn’t a single grumpy person in the whole agency on the first day.

After five years, you kinda got used to this but for you and Midoriya, this was a special day for another reason; it was the first day you two woke up in each other’s arms. Something shifted again, but you had no idea what; everything felt the same but somehow different, like the distance between you and Midoriya got halved, like he was in an arm’s length now, waiting for you to finally reach out but you were quite sure it was only the night before that made it feel like that. Until…

“I also brought some things in if that’s okay!” One of your colleagues spoke up with a shit-eating grin on his face. You love this guy but he’s always up to no good and once you’ve seen the mistletoe hanging right above you, you knew what’s his “mischief of the day” was. “Oh no, it seems like we need to kiss...” The guy couldn’t even finish his sentence properly as suddenly, Midoriya appeared out of thin air, right next to you; he spun you around once, making you laugh with his sudden cheekiness, then twice and you two ended up right under the mistletoe. Midoriya’s cheeky smile made your heart do a somersault in your chest and you swear your heart stopped for a second as Midoriya left a comically loud smack on your cheek and left the room, giggling to himself like a mischievous child. “Dang, boss, you are such a cockblock!” He yelled after his cheeky boss while he laughed - there is no way anyone can be mad at Midoriya when he’s in a good mood. He’s just too adorable.

All you could think of for the rest of the day was how soft Midoriya’s lips were and how much you wanted to taste them.

Maybe it’s time for me to tell him. - you thought to yourself as you came up with a Christmas present idea.

~•🥦•~

“Next Christmas, I want us to thank you for your hard work, not the other way around.” You tell Midoriya as you two take a little break from cleaning out the office after the Christmas celebration. Calling Chargebolt over was a terrible idea - half of the team had to be taken home by a taxi as Chargebolt couldn’t stop refilling their cups while they weren’t looking. Needless to say, you two haven’t drunk at all, knowing that someone will need to make the place habitable again for tomorrow because hero life never ends, not even on Christmas Eve.

“Having you here with me is enough. It’s not fun to clean up alone.” Midoriya gives you that damn smile you can’t get enough of, even though you see it quite often these days. If this feeling inside your chest isn’t love you have no idea what love is. There is no way there’s a stronger feeling than the ache in your heart as you look at the small, barely visible wrinkles by Izuku’s eyes, the beautiful, gorgeous freckles that didn’t fade with age at all - they also make him look 10 years younger than he actually is - this ache in your heart is urging you to touch, to soothe, to please, to make the other happy; it’s painful but it’s also pleasant, a burn that stings but leaves a nice, tingly feeling afterwards.

“Midoriya… actually… Izuku…” You look up at the most important person in your life and he looks back at you with nothing but pure wonder in his eyes.

“Why does it sound like heaven when you say it?” Izuku mutters with a red face but you are too terrified to actually step back and think about his reaction, because this is it - You are just about to confess and ruin everything you’ve worked so hard for.

“I… I have a present for you. You don’t need to accept it. Please, only accept it if you… if you really mean it.” You mumble as you take out a small envelope and give it to him with shaking hands.

It’s so stupid. And so childish. There is no way in hell you can do this in a proper way so you focus on a random scratch on the wooden floor; you can’t look into his eyes while you slowly let your heart out through your mouth just so he can punch it back into your chest and break it into pieces. Not like he would ever would do such a thing, but still.

He looks at the small envelope with a happy smile on his face for a while then finally, he opens it up and starts reading out loud. You really want the ground to open up under you right now.

“Dear Izuku. (I hope you don’t mind me calling you that.) No, I don’t, I like it haha - You won a prize! … what is this, Y/N?” Izuku giggles but the smile slowly disappears from his face. Every second feels like an eternity. It’s like something is choking you but you can’t do anything about it. “It’s a ticket for a one on one Christmas date with Y/N, platonic, or romantic, depending on your… de…cision.” Izuku looks up from the little card with pure confusion written all over his face.

“As I said, you do not need to accept this at all. I have a plan B. But if you do and you decide on the romantic date… I… I must add that the romantic ticket is non-refundable. And it’s not… for one day. Think about it a Christmas puppy. You give it to someone for Christmas but it’s a responsibility for a lifetime. Oh my god, that sounds so stupid, I’m sorry, I can’t do this, please just forget about it and give that back to me…” you try to get the card back but Izuku pulls it away.

“Do you mean it?” Izuku mumbles; you can’t look into his eyes, you can’t, but at the same time you really want to see his face right now, you need to see how he reacts. You look up from the floor for only a second; and that one second turns your whole life upside down.

Izuku’s eyes are full of tears, but somehow, his whole face looks… happy?

“What?” You mumble back, mesmerized by the sparks in Izuku’s eyes. Were they always so beautiful or is it just the magic of Christmas Eve?

“The romantic date… no refunds, for a lifetime… do you mean it?”

“Would I be shaking like a leaf if I wouldn’t? I’m freaking out, Izuku.” Your voice cracks by the end of your sentence, tears prickling your eyes as you try to keep eye contact.

“I also… have a Christmas present for you.” He mutters, not answering your question which is an answer itself. You know Izuku well enough to know what he means by dodging a question; he’s been doing that for a whole year before you two became friends and you hate how much it hurts to be on the receiving side again, especially in this situation. It was so stupid for you to do this on Christmas Eve. You ruined the holiday for you both and Izuku has been so excited about it and now every year, he’ll think about your stupid confession and how you ruined the only holiday he genuinely enjoys…

“Here. Please, read it. I want to see your face when you get to the end of it.” Midoriya gives you that damned smile again; the smile you love so much and it’s so out of place in this situation but somehow, it gives you hope; it makes you believe that maybe you didn’t ruin your friendship nor the holiday completely and this can be salvaged after all. “Please.” He repeats as he gives you a cute letter, steadying your shaky hands with his own; the feeling of Izuku’s rough fingertips on the back of your hands almost makes you yelp out loud but after a few deep breaths you school your face into something neutral and start reading.

“Dear Y/N. Getting a silly little letter from me must not have been on your bucket list but I hope at least it will make you feel happy. We’ve been close friends for four years now and knew each other five. I think about you as one of the most important people in my life and the feeling only got stronger and stronger as the days has passed and at one point, my feelings got out hand and wandered to an unknown path and it took me literal years to realize what they really mean, so I’m sorry if this letter is a little bit too late.” You need to take a deep breath. This letter sounds suspiciously like a love letter but Izuku has always been an emotional person so maybe, this is his way of telling you he thinks about you as family? “The first thing that made me wonder about my feelings was that… I love to touch you. I love to keep you close. I enjoy being with you alone more than I enjoy sharing a drink with you in a pub when my friends are around. The second thing was that somehow, over the years you got prettier in my eyes - you’ve always been pretty, don’t get me wrong but my eyes got caught on certain things a friend’s shouldn’t; your lips, your cheekbones, on the way your hair flies in the wind and small things like that. Then the third and final thing was only a few days ago; on the first day of our Christmas extravaganza when someone was about to kiss you under the mistletoe.

All I could think of was that… I want you to be mine.”

Your heart is having a hard time and so is your mind. This can’t be real. There is no way this happening right now…?!

“Izuku?!”

“Just continue.” Izuku smiles at you, his eyes full of affection. He moves his hands to your middle once he deemed you strong enough to be able to hold a single piece of paper and you can feel the twitch in the movement as he struggles to not pull you close and you can’t believe you’ve missed the sighs until now; Izuku looks at you like you are the prettiest star on the sky, like you are the reason the sun shines above you and it’s so endearing yet so natural… this moment, here, right now, at 10PM on a cold and dark Sunday evening… this moment was written in the starts thousands of years ago, you can feel it in your heart, in your soul, fucking everywhere.

“We cried, we laughed, we cheered, we mourned; we did all of these together but now it’s time for the next adventure - if you are up for it, of course.” You can’t stop sniffling as you get to the end of the letter. “So your Christmas present… is my heart. Because it’s all yours. It always has been. Is it even a present if it was yours for so long already? Great question. I think it’s the thought that counts.

Dear, Y/N. I love you. From the bottom of my heart to the tip of my toes.

Yours Sincerely;

Midoriya Izuku.”

There isn’t a proper word or a proper sentence to describe what you are feeling right now. You want to cry and laugh at the same time, you want to break down but you also want to stand tall and proud because your feelings just got reciprocated.

“We came up with the same silly idea, Y/N. If that’s not a sign then I don’t know what it is.” Izuku laughs as he finally pulls you close. “Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” Izuku’s voice is so childish and so giddy you can’t help but laugh. He rests his forehead on yours and takes a deep breath; it’s all so new and so strange yet it feels so right, just so-so perfect it makes your heart melt into a puddle on Izuku’s office floor.

“You mean it?” You parrot his own words back to him with a cheeky smile which ends up much bigger than you wanted it to be; Izuku’s hold gets tighter and tighter around your middle, the distance almost non-existent between you two now.

“Can I kiss you now? Because I really really want to kiss you now.” Izuku mumbles, completely ignoring your cheeky retort. You do your best to make an offended face but it’s extremely hard to concentrate while Izuku’s breath tickles your lips.

“You are so impatient, Izuku, I haven’t even answered yet.” You giggle to yourself, your lips already touching Izuku’s, but only a tiny bit, it’s more like a tease than an actual touch. “Where’s the mistletoe, then?” You add cheekily and Izuku doesn’t say a word to that; his hand wanders to your face and caresses your cheek with his thumb then gently moves your chin up to look at the ceiling right above you; you notice that the mistletoe your colleague brought in is clumsily stuck to the ceiling with… tape. You can’t help but roll your eyes while Izuku’s happy laughter fills the office as he slowly moves back into your personal space and finally steals a kiss from you.

First, the kiss is tentative and slow, one peck then two then three; Izuku grins between the small kisses and suddenly something shifts; he barges back with more fervor, the kiss deep and scorching hot but Izuku can’t stop smiling so it’s also a little bit awkward but somehow it’s still the most perfect kiss you’ve ever had.

“I love Christmas.” Izuku kisses you again. “And you.”

“I love you too, you grumpy, adorable fucking nerd.” You finally deepen the kiss properly; you take his bottom lips in yours and suck on it, making Izuku yelp with the sudden action. It doesn’t take him long to take revenge though; he licks over your lip then barges into your mouth, his tongue having a slow dance with your own, his body flush against yours as you slowly kiss away the remaining two hours until the clock hits midnight and you two freak out over the mess you still need to clean up before the new day starts, but not even the lateness of the day nor the grimy work can ruin your mood as you two slowly get the building tidy until every surface sparkles under the shine of the rising sun.

“You should have just asked the cleaning crew to clean this up in the morning.” You mumble into Izuku’s ear as you two try to have at least two hours of sleep on the small sofa before the day starts.

“Well yeah, but then I wouldn’t have had an excuse to ask you to stay for longer.” He admits sheepishly. You can’t believe this man.

“I fucking love you, you silly nerd.”

The end

Extra:

“Fucking finally!” Katsuki’s voice blasts through the speakers. You are not even surprised that Katsuki is the first person Izuku tells about the news, barely a few hours after you two got together. Also, he’s video-calling, because apparently, calling someone like a normal person is too ‘impersonal’. “You two, my place, tonight. We are having fucking Katsudon, thank the motherfucking gods above I don’t need to listen to you moaning about your unrequited fucking love anymore! Shitty hair! We need booze!” Katsuki yells to his half asleep flatmate. “Deku finally grew some balls! Also, you owe me 10000 yen!”… then he ends the call without even saying bye.

“Will we ever have a good sleep ever again?” You mumble to Izuku and his two massive Gucci bags under his eyes.

“No. Mum’s celebration will last a whole week. I hope you are not on a diet by the way, she loves to force feed people.” He smiles at you and …honestly? You don’t need any sleep if you can keep staring into those beautiful sparkling eyes full of love and affection instead.

“I can’t wait.”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- Reader: writes a stupid note about Deku winning a date with her

Deku: Writes a full on essay about his feelings

Also Deku: Wow it’s the same!

Honestly Y/N, that present was so cringe, did you even try? 😂😂😂😂 💜

- There is one thing I realized while I was writing this: I hate one-shots. I don’t think I’ll ever do one ever again. They always feel so empty and rushed even if I try to put as much information as I can into it. I like to take my time with this stuff, show the audience how the two characters ended up in love with each other… so yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever do a holiday special ever again haha

- Sorry for all the folks waiting for the next chapters of my ongoing series, I absolutely hyperfixated on this one and I also knew I won’t be able to be on time with those two thanks to the Christmas rush in retail (bro, I’m dead) so I kinda gave up. They’ll be coming soon I swear!

- I hope you guys have a lovely Christmas or whatever holiday you guys enjoy around this time! I’m not a big Christmas person myself but I do like a good Christmas-themed fanfiction :D

If you liked this story, send me a lovely comment and check out my Master List! 💜

Merry Christmas, everyone! 🎄

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