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aemonds-fire · 3 hours

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Crush

Modern Aemond Targaryen x Female (Oneshot)

Summary: Months ago Aemond hesitated to tell you how he felt. After your boyfriend breaks up with you, he won't make that mistake again.

Word Count: 3807

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, SMUT, Little plot, lots of smut, profanity, Size kink, Praise kink, Aemond being hot, seductive, funny, and adorable.

Personal Favorite 💖

Masterlist

‘Why the hell did I let them talk me into coming to this club?'

You know your friends are only trying to help you get through a rough breakup. “It’s time to stop moping and sitting around in your pj’s,” they tell you. “You need to get dressed up, go out, and have some fun,” they insist. So you give in, pampering yourself with a full beauty routine, choosing a racy bra and panty set, and putting together a little black outfit.

Checking yourself in the mirror before you leave, feeling better than you have in the past two weeks, with some of your old confidence coming back knowing that you look good. When your little trio walks into the packed club, you’re glad your friends talked you into coming out tonight, instantly feeling the intoxicating energy from the flashing lights, pulsing music, and dancing crowd.

Snagging a spot at the bar, you buy the first round of drinks, genuinely smiling for the first time since your boyfriend broke up with you. You’re enjoying your second drink and playfully teasing one of your friends when you spot him on the dance floor. Your now-ex-boyfriend who has his hands on his new girlfriend’s ass.

Wanting to act like it doesn’t hurt, you let your friends drag you out to dance. You try to enjoy yourself; you really do, but now the music is too loud, the club is too hot, and you just want to get off the dance floor. Giving your friends a weak smile, you let them know you need a break from dancing and head back to the bar.

Squeezing into a gap at the crowded bar, you try to catch the bartender's attention. While you wait, your mind goes back to your ex-boyfriend. Even though the spark between you was fading, the breakup came out of nowhere. How quickly he had another girlfriend led you to think he may have been cheating on you. So strong was your suspicion, you went to get tested just to be safe. ‘Doesn’t matter,’ you tell yourself. ‘It’s over, and you’re better off without him,’ you try to convince yourself, but it still hurts to be replaced so easily.

You’re drawn from your thoughts when a drink is placed in front of you. When you look up, the bartender says, “It’s from the guy at the end of the bar.”

Turning to look in the direction she’s pointing, you see the buyer of your drink, his long silvery white hair an easy giveaway to his identity. With a tilt of his head, he motions for you to join him.

You’re relieved to see a friendly face, so you don’t hesitate to pick up your drink and make your way over to him. With a genuine smile, “Hi Aemond, I didn’t see you over here.”

Aemond Targaryen returns your smile and immediately offers you his seat at the crowded bar. “Fortunately, I did see you.”

“Thank you, and thanks for the drink too,” you tell him as you slide onto the stylishly modern barstool, draping your leather jacket over the back.

You’ve known the Targaryen siblings for about a year, with Helaena being the one you met first. Since you were new in town, she took you under her wing, showing you the best places to hang out and eat and introducing you to people, including her brothers. Aegon is laid-back with a great sense of humor. He’s also quite a flirt, but a playful smack from his sister made it clear that you were her friend and not to be messed with.

Aemond, who’s a few months younger than you, is very different. Nowhere near as open as Hel and far more serious than Aegon, he's always intrigued you. He’s soft-spoken and reticent, holding back much of who he is, and that makes him difficult to read. You think that guardedness stems from a childhood accident that cost him an eye and left his face scarred.

For a while, you wondered if he liked you at all or if he was just trying to be nice because of Hel. But at parties, your boyfriend usually ended up playing games with Aegon and the guys, and you somehow ended up hanging with Aemond, just talking. Having those chances to talk one-on-one, you discover quick intelligence, a wry sense of humor, and a few shared interests. You decide that he’s just naturally reserved—someone who needs time to relax around people.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I saw you,” he says, leaning down a bit to be heard better. “You look amazing."

Smiling at the compliment, “You clean up pretty good yourself."

While you’ve struggled to get a handle on his personality, there is no question in your mind regarding his looks. Dressed in black, his button-down shirt and trousers look tailored to his tall and trim build, he exudes sleek athleticism. His casually rolled-up sleeves show off his slender forearms, a stylish, expensive watch on his wrist, and beautiful, large hands with long, slim fingers. His angular face has chiseled features that give him a uniquely handsome appearance. Not even the faded scar or black leather eye patch can detract from his striking good looks. Tonight, his pale, silvery hair is simply pulled back into a loose braid that ends between his shoulder blades.

Taking a sip of your drink, you give him a curious look. “I’m surprised to see you here. Let me guess, Aegon dragged you out and then disappeared in search of something in a short skirt and heels."

“Are we that predictable?” He asks with a crooked grin. “Aegon wanted to meet up with some pretty little thing he’s had his eye on, and I apparently need to get out more.” Reaching for his own drink, ”What’s your story?”

“Some friends decided I needed a night out,” you admit sheepishly. As you answer, you see your ex-boyfriend back on the dance floor.

Aemond, noticing your stare, turns to see who you are looking at. He then moves around to stand between you and the dance floor, blocking them from your view. “Forget about him; he’s not worth it.”

You look down at your hands folded in your lap, trying to push down the hurt you feel when he urges your chin up with his fingers. He looks at you intensely and says, “Don’t cry over that asshole. You deserve far better than the likes of him, babe.”

Meeting his gaze, you nod your head and pull yourself together. ”You’re right. It may take some time, but I’ll be fine.” You down the rest of your drink with a determined smile.

Before you can stop him, Aemond somehow manages to catch the busy bartender’s attention and motions for another round of drinks. When you protest, he leans closer, putting his arm around you and resting his hand on your shoulder. “I’m taking care of you tonight, pretty girl.”

“You'll be better than fine, and it won’t take as long as you think,” he continues with a cocky little smile. “You just need someone who knows how to treat you."

A little jolt goes through your body; whether it’s from the heat of his hand resting on your exposed shoulder or the difference in his demeanor, you’re not sure. This is a more confident and assertive Aemond that you haven’t seen before, and the little nicknames are completely new.

But unsure of your instincts, you jokingly say, “Yeah, some day my prince will come.”

“Hmm. Maybe he already has, princess,” he replies before leaning very close to you, his lips almost brushing against your ear. “I’ve always had a crush on you, always wanted you.”

His words cause a flutter in your chest. When he takes hold of your hand and starts rubbing his thumb on your skin, your breath catches in your throat. “You never said anything." is all you can manage to get out as you turn your head to look at him in surprise.

“That was a mistake I‘m not making again."

Your faces are only inches apart; you’re studying him with wide eyes while your mind races to process this new revelation. The sounds of the club disappear; all you can hear is the pounding of your heart. Closing the slight distance between you, his lips barely brush against yours before pausing, waiting for a signal from you to continue. When your lips instinctively part, he takes that as the go-ahead to kiss you slowly.

His mouth is soft and hot, and his tongue running along your bottom lip feels so good. He pulls back much too soon for your liking, now that passion has sparked inside you. When you impulsively reach to wipe a trace of your lipstick from his mouth, he quickly captures your thumb, drawing it into his mouth, licking and sucking on the tip before releasing it with a kiss.

As warmth rushes through your body, you can feel your skin tingling. The thinking part of your brain tells you this is a bad idea; it’s too soon after your breakup and too impulsive. But the seductive look on his face, the breaking of physical barriers, and his admission of wanting you has started a throbbing between your legs.

Since you’re still stunned silent, he takes the initiative. “Tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."

Biting your bottom lip, trying to sort your thoughts, you ask, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Aemond’s mouth tightens at the question, “I wasn’t sure if the attraction was mutual or if you just saw me as Hel’s kid brother. So I hesitated.” He looks away from you before adding, “Then you met him."

Knowing that opening himself up to others is not easy for him, you gently squeeze his hand in encouragement because you’re raw from your breakup and you need to know just what you could be getting yourself into with Aemond.

Shrugging his shoulders. "You seemed happy, and I thought I blew my chance with you.”

Little things about your friendship start to click in your mind, bringing a smile to your face. Now you’re the one holding his hand, rubbing circles with your thumb on his skin.

With a hopeful smile, he asks, “Can we get out of here?”

His request makes your heart thump in your chest, and you shift your hips in your seat before asking, “Where to?”

“My place?” Quickly adding, “We could talk some more or..." leaning close to your ear, his voice dropping lower with desire. “I could show you how much I want you, princess.”

Deep down, you’ve always loved the sound of his voice, and this new seductive tone causes a shiver to go up your spine despite the heat that is spreading through your body. Almost before you realize you're doing it, you’re slipping off the barstool, hoping your legs won’t shake.

Steadying yourself with a light hand on his chest and smiling up at him, you take a breath and say, “Alright, we can go... talk.”

Your reply earns you a rare, dimpled grin from him. He helps you slip on your jacket before firmly grasping your hand to begin leading you through the crowd to the exit. On your way out, you pass a grinning Aegon, but Aemond only glances at his brother, not bothering to stop.

Once outside, in the chill night air, he puts his arm around you as you walk through the parking lot. “You’re just going to ditch Aegon?” You ask with a chuckle.

“He knows what I’m up to,” he replies with a smirk. Laughing at your expression. “Aegon would get your boyfriend to play those stupid games at his parties so I could have some time with you.”

Reaching his car, he pulls you into a slow, deep kiss, holding you close to him with his large hands on your hips. Soon you’re fisting at the soft, expensive fabric of his shirt because it feels so fucking good kissing him, feeling him press his hard body against yours. You let his tongue tease its way past your lips to dance with yours as his fingers dig into your skin before he reluctantly pulls back to open the car door for you.

During the drive to his place, you text your friends, reassuring them that you are with Aemond and that everything is fine.

Curious about something, “So when Helaena would suggest a girls movie night, but we would end up at your place, you put her up to that?”

“I did not; she volunteered to do that.”

“My friend sets me up so her brother can walk around like a slut in sweatpants and a messy man bun. Wow, you Targs are something else,” you laughingly tease.

“I was desperate, pretty girl." His blush was visible even in the dim light of the car. “But you noticed,” he chuckles.

Aemond’s apartment is in one of the pricier buildings in the city, but you know his family has money. You’ve been here before, hanging out with the siblings for movie nights. Before you can even toe off your heels by the door, he pulls you to him with one arm around your waist, burying his face in your neck, nipping at your skin, then soothing the little bites with his tongue, making you moan softly.

“Wanted you so bad for so long,” he murmurs between little wet kisses over your throat.

Playfully, you tease him while tugging on his long braid. “Have you been thinking dirty thoughts about me all this time?”

“Fucking filthy thoughts,” as he crushes his lips against yours in a demanding kiss that takes your breath away. You both work to shrug your jacket off, letting it fall to the floor. You can feel the wetness forming between your legs as his long fingers caress the bare skin of your waist.

Pulling his shirt up, your hands explore the lean muscles of his flawless skin. When you bite at his lip, he groans into your mouth and grinds his hardening cock against you.

Trailing his lips down your neck, “Tell me you want me. I need to hear it," he pleads.

“I want you, Aemond; I want you to fuck me,” you moan breathlessly.

With your words, the last shred of restraint either of you had disappeared. By the time the two of you reach his bedroom, both of you are half naked, leaving a trail of clothing and shoes along your path.

“Fucking gorgeous tits,” he mumbles against your hardend nipple before taking it into his hot mouth again, sucking eagerly. Your other breast is being cupped in his strong hand, his fingers teasing the delicate peak. “Perfect tits all for me,” he hums as he switches to begin lavishing the other with attention.

His loose braid is long undone, and your fingers are tangled in his silky, soft hair. You can’t resist the urge to bait him a little. “You think just ‘cause you lick it, it's yours?”

His eye immediately shoots up to your face, and you feel a rough hum against your skin. Backing you up until your legs bump into his bed, he playfully pushes you down on the mattress.

“Aemond?” You squeak as you see the evil gleam in his eye. Kneeling on the floor, he pulls your legs to the edge of the bed and presses his face between them, rubbing his nose over your covered clit and inhaling deeply.

Resting on your elbows, you watch him tug down your panties, leaving you naked. He pushes your thighs wide with his large hands, and you see him shamelessly stare at your soaking wet pussy. “Who made you this wet, princess?"

You let out a gasp as he flattens his tongue and licks the length of your slit, never taking his eye off you. “Mine now,” he says with that familiar smirk of his.

Giving him your best, not impressed look, “It’s gonna take more than that, Targaryen.” you reply sassily. You watch him stick out his long tongue and start flicking your clit, before placing his lips over your little bundle of nerves, alternating between sucking gently and swirling his tongue over it.

Before long, you fall back on the bed, closing your eyes and giving yourself over to the wonderful sensations his mouth creates. His lips and tongue move through your folds, teasing your entrance, before returning to your swollen bud. Every little whimper or sob he pulls from you seems to spur him on. Compared to your ex, Aemond is the pussy eating champ.

Finding a rhythm that has you moaning “Fuck, you’re good at this.” He swells with pride, determined to make you a quivering mess. He relentlessly applies just the right amount of pressure on the right spots again and again. Your world is nothing but sloppy, wet sounds coming from between your legs and the orgasm building deep inside you.

When you reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair, your nails rake his scalp, causing him to moan into your pussy. "Mmm, baby, I’m close..don’t stop,” as you start to grind your hips against his mouth. Before you know it, waves of ecstasy that have your toes curling are crashing through you,leaving you shaking and breathless.

Aemond stares at your quivering pussy, watching more wetness leak from you. “You never answered my question. “Who makes you this wet? Hmm?”

Still blissed out from your orgasm, you gasp as he slides a long finger inside you. “You do, only you,” you whimper.

“That’s my pretty princess,” he coos as he adds a second finger, slowly dragging them in and out of you. “You gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy?”

‘Mmm yes,” While he rises from the floor, you move to the center of the bed, stretching contentedly and giving your legs a rest. You enjoy the sight of his erection straining against his boxers while he opens a drawer in his nightstand and pulls out a condom packet.

“Aemond, we can skip that if you want. I already got tested after the breakup; all good.

“I’m good too, promise," he says as he drops the condom back in the drawer. Lowering his boxers, he frees his hard cock. You wet your lips with the tip of your tongue at his perfect size while you watch him lazily stroke himself. Just looking at him makes your pussy clench; he’s the perfect blend of beauty and masculinity.

“Do you realize how fucking gorgeous you are?” You wonder aloud, your voice smokey with your arousal, taking in the glorious details of the sight before you. From his tousled hair falling past his shoulders to his defined, lean muscles and slim hips, you think he is a work of art.

His pale skin, already flush with his own desire, colors even more down to the tip of his beautiful, long shaft. Joining you on the bed, positioning himself so he is looming over the length of your body, he lowers down to kiss you, his hair falling in a silvery curtain around your head. You can taste yourself as he plunges his tongue past your teeth, deliciously invading your mouth.

Wrapping your arms around his waist and your hands on his back, you pull him closer, wanting to feel his weight on top of you. The soft hairs on his chest and legs tickle your sensitive skin, while his cock is hot and hard against you. You part your thighs wider to let him settle between them, curling a leg around his hip.

“You ready for my cock, pretty princess?” His voice is rough with his need to be inside you when he starts moving his length between your sensitive folds, coating himself with your slick wetness.

Nodding desperately, “Mmm, yes,” you murmur, ready to start writhing beneath him.

Finding your entrance, the head of his cock slowly pushes into you, making him hiss, and he doesn't stop until he can’t go any deeper. “Fuck, you're tight around me.” Slowly, he withdraws halfway before sliding back in and holding himself steady. Giving you a cocky grin, “I think you’re used to something smaller being in you.”

You know it’s true. You’ve never felt this full before, so wonderfully stretched. Your eyes go wider, and a moan escapes you when he gives a more forceful, deep thrust into you.

“Hmm, I’m right,” he smirks knowingly. His muscles flexing with each snap of his hips.

Sensing that he eats up praise the way he eats pussy, you’re happy to give him what he wants. “Fuck, you’re big; it feels so good.” Each time his cock hits that sweet spot inside you, a little jolt of exquisite pleasure goes through you, and you grip his hips harder, raking your nails along his skin.

“So beautiful.” He’s captivated by the sight of your tits bouncing as he pounds into you. “Taking all of me so well, princess.” He coos as he hooks an arm under your knee, the new angle causing more friction against your patch of nerves as he somehow picks up his pace.

“Close, so close,” you whimper. It’s not long before the tightened coil suddenly snaps, making you cum hard with an earth-shattering orgasm that leaves your body shaking.

Your pussy clenching around him starts to send him over his own edge. His balls tightening as he keeps fucking you through your climax. His release leaves him grunting and shuddering as his cock twitches and spurts hot cum deep inside you.

Both of you are left reeling as Aemond rolls off and flops on his side next to you. He gently gathers you into his arms, pulling you close and burying his face in your hair.

You can hear his soft hum of satisfaction, and you can feel his heartbeat against your hand on his chest as you lie in his arms, both of you trying to catch your breath.

“You good, princess?” He asks and gives you a soft kiss on your forehead with your contented sigh of "yes." Soon you both force yourselves from the too-comfortable bed to clean up. When you come out of the bathroom, Aemond gives you a soft, well-worn t-shirt to put on while he is already wearing gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips, no shirt, and his hair is up in a messy bun, earring a muttered, ”Slut,” from you.

“How come I call you princess, and apparently my nickname is 'Slut'? he teasingly asks.

“Awww, would you rather I call you ‘Prince Aemond'? You come back with mock sarcasm.

Grinning, “Prince Aemond, I like that.” Laughing when you roll your eyes at him, he heads to the kitchen for water and snacks for both of you.

#aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond #modernaemond #modern aemond #aemond fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n

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greyias · 2 years

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The WIP Project Check-In

With eight days left in the WIP Project 2022, it’s probably an appropriate time to make an official check-in/accountability post, as I... erm. Forgot to do that for the past 82 days. Oops.

So, I started the project with a bit of a head start, at not quite 9000 words, and according to Scrivener’s calculations, I’m currently sitting at just over 18k. With about 80 days of writing, around 9000 words doesn’t really seem like a whole lot... until I factor in exactly how much I’ve had to cut/rewrite: almost 10,000 words.

Which is a bit of an issue since one of my goals was to not rewrite/tweak sections. Granted, those cut words are not me endlessly tweaking and rewording paragraphs, but swaths of description, scenes, and dialogue that wasn’t working and stalling me out, so I would have to backtrack several paragraphs after a few days of starting a the screen frustrated until I figured out where I had taken a wrong turn in the scene and had to course correct to get things back on track.

Since I’m trying a bit of a different method of writing than I usually do on larger projects, that’s been part of the issue. My previous methods on longfic involved keeping everything in my head, maybe some scribbled side notes on where I want to go if I’m lucky, and to hope to god I have the time and energy to write everything down before I inevitably forget what I was doing with a scene and hope I can remember before it forever languishes on the backburner.

*looks guiltily at Smoke and Mirrors, which this project may or may not be an experimentation so I can finish that monstrosity before another decade rolls over*

Which is... not really the best method for completing things, especially if you’re someone like me who does deal with memory/motivation issues at time. So this time around, I actually had written out an overall storyline beat/structures, that even included possible conversation/dialogue topics to explore. In the beginning, it actually was working out quite well, but as I progressed further and further into the project, I kept finding myself running into issues and having to scratch out a lot of work and start over. What I find interesting is that the beginning portion, in which the words got on the page much easier -- I am far, far less willing to share any bits and pieces of, because I know a large swathe of it is going to be rewritten, because while the plot is progressing, the character beats aren’t working at all for me -- and the latter portion, which has been like pulling teeth to get done, I actually have several bits that after I wrote it (to much struggle), I got that familiar thrill out of writing down and am actually excited to share.

And what’s interesting is, while all of this has been going on, I’ve been cycling through on my commute between two types of audiobooks. One is normal fiction, which is part of refueling the creative brain, and the other is actual books on the craft of writing. The big ones I’ve worked my way through lately have been:

Murder Your Darlings by Roy Peter Clark -- really good for revisions/the art of the sentence/paragraph/etc

Save the Cat! Writes a Novel by Jessica Brody

Improv for Writers by Jorjeana Marie (didn’t finish this one before it was due back at the library unfortunately)

Write Your Novel From the Middle by James Scott Bell

and a few different podcasts recommended by @barbex (who has been sharing some amazing resources on the daily @the-wip-project posts.)

(For my fellow writers, I highly recommend those daily posts by the way. There’s some awesome resources linked there, and I’m still working my through them all, but it’s a wealth of information.)

The inevitable thing about writing advice is that you’re not going to agree with everything. And, at least for me, part of me has a tendency to rail against certain pieces of advice, because I’m a bit set in my ways at times. I think the irony is some of those advice pieces my brain rails against at first, I slowly digest over time and find a way to make them work for me. (Not all of it of course, James Scott Bell really needs to get over whatever beef he has with the romance genre 😂)

But I think after consuming so much of this advice on structure, and as I’ve brute forced my way through on so many chapters of this project that I’ve lost a bit of internal steam on it, one thing they discuss a lot is something I stumbled on years back, but always had a hard time putting into words, and that’s the internal character journey/arc. As I’ve worked my way through this project, the basic/raw plot itself hasn’t changed, and honestly isn’t what really excites me -- it’s that internal character stuff that propels me along. It’s also what’s been tripping me up on each and every time I’ve had an issue with my scenes.

After I wrote this scene I shared a few weeks back, I realized that right after writing that it was this pivotal scene type most of the advice on story structure talks about (I think James Scott Bell calls it the Mirror Moment?). And the moment that scene came out, what wasn’t working in the first few scenes/chapters crystalized, as well as why once I got to a certain section it was such a struggle to get words on the page (the character arc was essentially in a holding pattern and stagnating while the plot moved forward). I was able to write the following two chapters in almost no time, and the only reason I haven’t written anything new in ten days (according to my documents helpful “last updated on” note) is that work got insanely busy and has been sucking all of my creative energy. Which, alas, is one of the downsides of working in a creative profession is it uses the same well of energy as personal projects as professional.

So, I’m honestly not sure if I’m going to be able to finish off the first draft before the 90 days is up, which I know is not the end of the world, it’s really an internal deadline at most... but darn it, I wanted to get another completed draft out of this, like I was able to do the first time around. Sometimes a goal and deadline is what’s needed to get things done. We’ll see if my flagging energy reserves get refilled enough for me to pull of a Hail Mary over this next week.

That aside, my big realization this past week, as I finished working my way through a fun little novel to keep the brain entertained during this three week stretch of work getting crazy, I was mulling over the fact that my writing motivation seems to tie in to the character arc more than the plot itself -- and that fact that over and over, even when I have the actual scenes planned out, I seem to have trouble identifying the actual character arc on these longer projects until it slaps me right between the eyes. I keep coming back to the thought of how do people actually identify this ahead of time? Because even when I think it’s about this one thing, figuring out that moment seems to elude me so much, and I’d certainly have a lot less writing headaches if I could more accurately identify it ahead of time. Does everyone have this issue?

On the bright side, I guess I can at least keep that in mind when doing my pre-planning on future projects once I finally finish up with this one. And oh, I am so ready to be done with this one. I both love it and hate it, and I think I only hate it because I’ve been focusing on it singlemindedly for so long, my brain wants a break. Such is the way of the fickle muse.

#the-wip-project #i had meant to make more check-in posts #but i forgot :(#(sorry barbex :( )#i know there are a few other issues that have complicated writing this story #but the post had already gotten long #and i didn't want to devolve into 'wahhhh writing is hard'#(which it is)#(but yanno)#part of it is that this fic is very much an id fic thing #and while i think once its done and published those who read it will enjoy it #but i think it's going to be one of those fics that isn't going to grab most people's attention #because the concept is fun for ME #but i think it's not as inherently as intriguing as some of my other wips #which hey that's just the nature of the beast #i'll still write the other ones too #but this one is for ME #greywip

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ampleappleamble · 2 months

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haven't seen this on here yet so:

in case you don't want to slog through the shitscape that is the bird/letter website, take a peek beneath the cut (shamelessly copied from the something awful forums dungeon meshi thread)

- Her first memory of video games was watching her father playing Wizardry on Famicom, also Dragon Quest, Ultima, and Fire Emblem among others.

- She was a difficult child so her parents didn't let her play. Wizardry is a boring game to watch, but the monster illustrations on the walkthrough evoked her imagination and made her keep watching.

- She only started becoming a serious gamer after the serialization of Dungeon Meshi was locked, for research purposes. Before that, she read fantasy novels such as The Neverending Story (Michael Ende) and The Lord of the Rings (JRR Tolkien).

- The international title for Dungeon Meshi: Delicious in Dungeons was decided by her editor.

- D&D popped up a lot when she researched the history of video games, so she read the rule books, replay novels, and games inspired by D&D.

- One of the first games she studied was the Legend of Grimrock (game's 80% off on Steam atm). Originally, she wanted Dungeon Master (FTL Games) which was famous for "RPG with meals" but hunting down the game and machine was too much.

- She didn't like games other than turn-based RPGs at first, but she decided to stop being picky and play anything that piqued her interest.

- She played Zelda: BotW and TotK on a borrowed Switch from her editor due to the console's scarcity at the time.

- She enjoyed Red Dead Redemption 2 and God of War for their stories. RDR2's incredible attention to detail had Kui engrossed so much that she asked her editor and other mangaka to play it so she could discuss it with them.

- Kui praised The Witcher 3 localization as something only possible with full support from the developer. Cyberpunk 2077 is one of her all-time favorites.

- Papers, Please was her first taste of indie games.

- Disco Elysium is the perfect game for her due to the lack of fighting, intriguing story, charming character interaction, and top-down perspective. She tried playing it in English at first due to an unlikely chance for JP loc, but it was out of her ability. Thus she is forever grateful to Spike Chunsoft for localizing it.

- Kui played Baldur's Gate 3 from the time it was in Early Access. Again, she's grateful for Spike Chunsoft's JP loc. She hoped BG3's success would bring the possibility of JP loc for other titles too, such as Pathfinder: wotr

- She likes games with top-down perspective because they have narration text for monologues and scenery description. Even if the graphic is lacking, the texts show the atmosphere and each character's behavior and psyche. Also, characters that react to your choices.

- She praised Unpacking and House Flipper for being able to tell what kind of person lives there only through their belongings, and that there's no right or wrong for the placements; she would make the best arrangement and then enjoy her hard work while sipping tea.

- The biggest inspiration for Dungeon Meshi was the Cosmic Forge pen from Wizardry VI. With improved graphics from its predecessor, now it could show broken farming tools in the background and many more details that made exploration so much fun.

- At the time of the interview (Dec '23) she still hadn't watched DunMeshi anime, but she attended the recording sessions. She's embarrassed that the dialog she wrote now acted passionately by professionals. Marcille's screaming was wonderful but also made her want to flee.

- Kui was anxious about the CP2077 anime adaptation, but she was relieved it was the Night City she knows and loves.

- Other than minor adjustments, she left it to TRIGGER as to how to adapt

- She's happy that Mitsuda Yasunori was chosen as the anime composer, as she used to play Chrono Cross and rewatched the opening many times.

- Her anticipated games in 2024 are Cloudpunk, Nivalis, and Avowed.

- DunMeshi would be hard to adapt into a game because in the first place, what Kui depicted in the manga are parts that are omitted in games for the sake of brevity.

- If DunMeshi game was Wizardry-like, it'd be told through Laios' perspective and eating was essential not to die

#dungeon meshi #she only started playing video games after dunmeshi got picked up???? damn #that's dedication to the craft #i would *so* play a dunmeshi video game...#likes top-down perspective and strong narratives and character reactivity... she's just like me fr

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revasserium · 7 months

Note

can i have one were zoro realises she does things bc of truama (like doesnt speak much etc)

hold me (still)

opla!zoro; 6,680 words; slow!!!!burn, fem!reader, ex-assassin!reader, straw hat!reader, general tragic backstory/trauma, fluff, hurt/comfort, bit of angst, emotionally constipated zoro, communication? what's that?, nami playing therapist bc she's the only one with 1 iota of emotional intelligence

summary: sometimes, stillness is a virtue, and others -- a tragedy. or, in which the straw hats pick up a new member and zoro is equally intrigued and weirded out by you.

a/n: well. you guys asked for slow burn and... the burn is so slow u gotta squint to see the smoke yall. but trust. the burn does get there! pls be patient!! and i tried to combine 2 dif reqs in this one fic :)

You are of the quiet sort. Just a shadow dancing in the periphery of their vision, and when they first met you, you’d told them it was your superpower, a soft, still smile slipping across your lips. Luffy had bought into it immediately, and the invitation was out his mouth before anyone could stop him.

“Come with us!”

“Oh…” your lips pressed into a thin line of consideration.

Zoro’s fingers itched towards his swords because something about you makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. But something else — something uncomfortable and strange, something very much like curiosity — seizes his chest and twists his stomach. Strange, he thinks, too strange.

“C’mon! It’ll be fun!”

And then, you’d smiled wider, and nodded, and that had been that.

It’s been three months since then, and you are still of the quiet sort, though it had receded a bit with time. What with Sanji’s gentle flirting and Usopp’s not-so-gentle stories and Nami’s bright, dry-humored companionship, you’d begun to “open up a bit”, so Luffy observed.

Zoro, for his part, has kept his distance. Because sometimes he still catches you at the bow of the ship, staring out across the midnight waters, still as a stone-carved statue. Still as a wooden beam — stiller, even.

“What’s with that?” he asks one day, strolling up to Nami as she traces a fine line over a new map she’s working on.

“Hm?” is her very eloquent response.

Zoro ticks his tongue against his teeth and casts his eyes about the ship, finding them drawn to the shape of you, up at the bow again, reading in the shade of the tangerine trees. Nothing moves except for the wind as it whisps through your hair and the slow scanning of your eyes as it skates across the page.

“New girl,” Zoro says, crossing his arms as Nami finally looks up at him and then off towards you.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Zoro lets out a puff of breath, unfolding his arms to glare at Nami. He finds her grinning a lopsided grin as she clicks shut her compass and puts down her pen. She leans a hip on the barrel she’d been drawing on and folds her own arms.

“Oh, you like her.”

“I’m weirded out by her. ‘S not the same thing,” Zoro snaps, but when he tries to leave, Nami blocks him with an arm and pins him with a sharp, leveling look.

“No, no, no — we’re gonna work this through.”

“No thanks, I’m good.”

“Uh-uh, you still owe me after that round of drinks the other night — remember when you bet you could drink more than me?”

Zoro narrows his eyes, “I did drink more than you.”

Nami’s grin is gleeful, “No, you didn’t. You had to be dragged back to your room after clogging up the toilet. Or do I need to show you the evidence —”

“Alright — fuck, fine. But really? This is what you’re gonna waste your favor on? You could’ve asked me to —” Zoro gestures around vaguely, “clean the bilge or something.”

Nami shrugs, looking almost too pleased, “Nope! This is what I wanna use my favor for. And, really, you think a bit of bilge water is gonna gross me out? C’mon.”

Zoro heaves a sigh and leans back against the main mast, closing his eyes.

“Fine then. Go.”

Nami sits back on the edge of the barrel.

“No, you go. Admit that you like the new girl.”

“I don’t.” He doesn’t open his eyes.

“I’ve seen you staring at her. We’ve all seen you staring at her.”

“What, that a crime now?”

Nami fights the urge to roll her eyes, “No, but I’ve never seen you try so hard to avoid someone before.”

Zoro lets out a bark of laughter, hard and mirthless, “Yeah, so that must mean I like her.”

Nami cocks her head, “It means you feel something towards her. And I’d suggest you figure it out.”

“And how’d you propose I do that?”

Nami once again waves in your direction, “Go. Talk. To her.”

Zoro lets out another breath, eyes scanning across the ship, anywhere but towards where you’re still sitting and reading, finger flipping a page in a perfect, smooth, singular motion.

And Zoro’s not blind. Blunt though he may be at times and careless as he is about most material things, he can still appreciate beauty when he sees it. And you — there’s no denying that you’re beautiful. Your strange stillness aside, when you do move, it’s with a dancer’s lissome grace, fluid lines, not a single movement wasted. When you smile, it seems to light you up from the inside, and your words, though soft, carries the well-worn weight of river stones, glittering beneath the clear, spring stream of your voice.

There’s a sharpness in your eyes, a straightness to your spine, a way of carrying yourself as if you’re afraid that one wrong move might shatter you and the entire world around you.

Sometimes when he sees you, he wonders at the hands that had sculpted you this way. He wonders at your life before they’d picked you up in Loguetown, when you’d oh-so-silently slipped up the execution platform and helped Luffy down, all the while staying free of Smoker’s watchful gaze.

The few times he’s seen you fight, he can’t help wondering if you’ve eaten some kind of devil fruit as well. No human could be so fast as that. Or be so quiet. But then again, he’d fought Kuro, and they’d seen stranger things. Still, he marvels at the way you flicker in and out of sight, slipping around the edges of battle like a dark, haunting thing, and men would drop like flies beneath your quick, quiet hands. With nary a sound or shout before their eyes roll back and their breathing is no more.

On the instances when Sanji had asked about your past, your eyes had gone misty and dark, unfocused. You’d gone still, freezing for so long that Usopp would cough just to fill the silence. And then slowly, ever so slowly, you’d turn back towards them with a small, sad smile and say:

“There’s… not much to talk about. I grew up somewhere far away, where if you didn’t keep quiet and still, bad things would happen to you. And then when those bad things happened, if you weren’t quick — the quickest of all, you’d die.”

Bad things, huh? Zoro thinks as he makes his way towards you, a hand resting on the hilt of his swords. He comes to a stop next to you and leans against one of the white planters, casually peering over your shoulder at the book in your hands.

For a long moment, neither of you move. Then, Zoro clears his throat and forces himself to speak.

“Is it good?”

It takes you a second, but eventually, you turn towards him.

“The book? Yeah, I suppose.”

“Not exactly a glowing review.”

You laugh, a soft, breathy little thing as you look back down at the page.

“It's about a girl who falls into an enchanted sleep, and a prince who wakes her up with a kiss.”

“Must’ve been one hell of a kiss.”

“Yes, and one hell of a prince.”

Zoro finds himself chuckling, his shoulders loosening as he takes another breath.

“And then what?” he asks.

“And then… he asks her to marry him.”

You run your fingers along the page, smoothing your palm over the ink and parchment. Zoro watches you, wondering, always wondering.

“What’s she say?” and it’s then that he notices his own voice, hushed and low, barely a whisper.

You look back up at him and smile a smile a sphynx would have been proud of.

“I don’t know. I haven’t gotten there yet.”

Zoro takes a breath, and the breath tastes distinctly different than all the breaths he’d taken before it. As if the world takes the breath with him, and some fundamental truth had shifted on the exhale.

The moment breaks, as moments are wont to do, when Sanji calls out for lunch and Zoro jerks out of his almost-reverie. You slowly close your book and rise to your feet, turning back to smile at him.

“C’mon, it’s lunchtime.”

Zoro nods and follows you into the kitchen, where Luffy and Usopp are already digging in, and Nami is pouring herself a drink. She spots the pair of you and catches Zoro’s eyes. A grin ticks at the edge of her lips but before she can say anything, you’re accosted by Sanji sweeping into a deep, flourishing bow, and ushering you towards the table, where he’d set your place in a manner fit for a princess.

“Where’s my setup?” Zoro asks as he drops into the seat next to you, cocking an eyebrow. Sanji shoots him an unimpressed look.

“I’m surprised you can use a fork and knife, moss-head. Just be grateful and eat up.”

Zoro scoffs but digs in nonetheless.

When next they dock, it’s on a rare, peaceful island — an island of light and books and learning, where the air smells of salt and ink and drying parchment, of unwritten words and untold stories. But it smells of a stillness too, and Zoro knows without having to ask that you’d like it here.

And you do.

He’s never seen you smile so much, never seen you so vibrant and full of life. You chat and laugh and read with a voracious hunger, and he finds himself drawn to this new, warm, moving side of you. He finds himself, more often than not, by your side, even when neither of you speak. And he basks in the comfort of the quiet that permeates the air when it’s just the two of you — him hanging in the hammock on deck, you reading by his side.

But now, there’s the soft tapping of your foot, the shuffle of pages when you flip forward to see what’s coming next, and of course the ever-present shush of the ocean as it washes against the Merry’s side.

The Log Pose needs two weeks to properly calibrate to the next island, so they’ve got time to kill.

On the fifth night, over dinner and drinks, Luffy asks the question that everyone’s been thinking since the day they’d all met you —

“So. Why’re you so still all the time? Not that it’s weird or anything — well, actually — it kind of is, but it doesn’t bother me. I’m just asking cause I'm curious!”

You look up from your half-finished wine but Zoro feels it happening, like the hush of a fan blade slicing through air, the gasp before a porcelain vase tips over and shatters. You stop. You stare. You’re frozen in every sense of the word. And he’s known you for long enough to know that you only go still as a reflex, only reach for it as a shield. Against what? He doesn’t quite know.

“It’s… something of a long story,” you say, your voice low and hoarse.

Luffy grins, smacking his lips as he sucks the meat off a chicken leg, “We’ve got tons of time! Right?” he looks around as if for validation, but everyone’s eyes are caught on you and your unnatural stillness.

Zoro shifts slightly in the seat next to you, opening his stance and turning towards you.

“Could do with a good story.”

Your eyes flash in his direction and he offers you the barest hint of a smile.

You relax, ever so slightly, drifting back in your seat, your glass cupped in the palms of your hands. And then, you begin to speak, your voice smooth and lilting, your words washing over them like the faint lull of the tides.

“When I was three, my father sold me for a barrel of beer.”

A dull clack echoes around the room and everyone turns to see Sanji hurriedly righting the thick stein he’s knocked over. Thankfully, it’d been empty.

“Sorry — I just — what?” he sounds furious but Usopp lays a hand across his arm and shakes his head.

You take a deep breath and continue, your voice oddly emotionless as you say, “The man who bought me took me to an island. It was… a dark place. A quiet place. I only learned its name after I escaped — an island called Elysium.”

Nami gasps before clapping her hands over her mouth.

“I’ve just — I’ve heard of that place before, but I thought… I thought it was just a made-up place.”

Luffy swallows hard, frowning, “What’s it like?”

Nami’s eyes flicker between you and Luffy, “Supposedly… it’s the home island for… for the most feared group of assassins in all the seas combined.”

Usopp’s eyebrows jerk up, “The most feared?”

A faint smile seeps across your lips like blood.

“Yes. The Shadows that Live.”

Everyone turns to look at you. Luffy picks up another drumstick.

“Whoa… cool name!”

Zoro hums, “I’ve heard of them before — but mostly, it was just an old wive’s tale about… shadow assassins who hunt in the dark. Mercenaries for hire. But… no one’s ever seen one before.”

“Because… once you see one, you’ll never live to tell the tale,” you say, your eyes now downcast and fixed on the glass in your hands.

“Then…” Usopp’s voice is soft, “What about… you?”

“I… I ran away.”

Silence greets you. But after a moment, Luffy spits out a bit of bone and uses it to pick at the space between his teeth, his eyes round.

“Wow! You must be pretty good to run away from an island full of shadow assassins!”

You almost laugh, his boundless trust hitting you like a punch to the stomach.

“So…” Sanji lets out a puff of silvery smoke, “the staying still thing… that’s just part of your training, yeah?”

You nod, “Something like that.”

Someday, you think, you’ll tell them about the hellscape that was Elysium island, of the long echoing halls, dark and still and silent. Of the mechanical beasts that hunted by sound and movement alone. Someday, you’ll let them know about the poisoned pomegranate seeds that they feed all the “recruits” to keep them hazy, of how you’d kept six of them suspended in your mouth and spat them all out when you’d finally made it far enough from the island to allow yourself to breathe.

“And… are these shadow assassins gonna come after us?” Nami asks, her voice careful and light.

You purse your lips, “I… I don’t know.”

Nami sighs, but a moment later, she moves to refill her drink with a slight shrug, “Well, just one more enemy to add to our growing list. Soon, we’re gonna have to post a sign-up sheet.”

At this, everyone laughs, and the tension snaps like a wounded spring.

Luffy burps loudly, patting his stomach, “I’m not worried — I mean, if you were able to run away from them once, that means you’re stronger than them, right?”

You pause, your hand hovering over the wine bottle. Zoro gently reaches over and refills your glass for you. You shift back into movement, casting him a small smile and taking a sip. The wine is cool and tangy as it hits the back of your throat. You breathe, and the world keeps spinning.

“I… I’m not sure — I’ve never fought… any of… them… before.”

“Guess we’ll find out if they try to come for you then — but you’ve got us now!” Luffy says, reaching for an apple and chomping into it, “ — Sho… you duon gotta wourry —” he licks his lips as he takes another huge bite before tossing the core towards the waste bin, “We’ve got your back!”

Nami makes a disgusted face, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, ugh.”

Sanji chuckles, tapping out his cigarette, “Yeah Luffy, mind your manners.” But his voice is full of laughter and you find yourself relaxing into the sway of the night, the swing of conversation. Beside you, Zoro refills his own glass and leans over to clink it against yours.

You turn, but he only raises his glass before taking a sip.

You mirror his movement, cradling the cup to your chest when you finish.

Later, he finds you by the tangerine trees, ghosting your fingers over their lush green leaves, dark enough to look black in the evening light.

“Hey.”

You turn, “Hi.”

Zoro sighs and looks out over the darkened waves, the moonlight refracted into a million shattered bits of sky.

“Luffy’s right, y’know.”

“What about?” you ask, joining him by the railings. The night air is cool and crisp. Behind you both, the island oozes with lamplight and laughter. Even from here, you can hear the joy, the peace that permeates the air here. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, you think, to stay here forever.

“If they come for you,” Zoro says, “we’ll have your back.”

You let out a small chuckle, looking down at your hands, “I know.”

“So,” he turns towards you, his earrings glinting in beneath the scimitar moon, “you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

You lick your lips, and instinctively, you reach for the stillness. All the days and weeks and months with the people around you have softened you, and for that, you know you should be thankful. Still, old habits die hard, and you have to clench your fists and dig your nails into your own palms to keep from freezing completely.

You take a shivering breath and force it out again.

“Fear’s a hard habit to break.”

At this, Zoro grunts, though it sounds something like consent. The moment stretches, long and soft and taffy-sweet.

He turns back towards the sea, “Yeah,” he says, and then —

“But we can take it slow.”

You swallow hard, passed the broken shards of forgotten words lodged in your throat (you find that they all somehow taste like thank you), and you nod. Warmth tickles your cheeks and you wonder why he’s said we instead of you — and later, lying in your bed at night, staring at the moon-slatted ceiling, you wonder if he was really talking about fear or if it was something else entirely.

You don’t get a lick of sleep that night.

The next few days pass in a light, repetitive blur. You and Zoro are sent on a few short shopping trips in the city, and you’re glad for something to do that involves movement. Shocking how quickly the body adapts once the weight it’d been holding on to is lifted.

You are still quiet, and he, the same; but the silence has shifted around you, and whereas before it’d been solid and steady, it’s now thrumming and charged with some unspoken energy.

Neither of you are blind to it; nor, it seems, is the rest of the crew.

Sanji’s taken to openly teasing Zoro about being with you all the time, complaining loudly that he can’t get a word in edgewise because Zoro refuses to leave you alone. Nami keeps on trying to drag you out for “girl's day” shopping trips, hinting at all the cute clothes you could get and how “green really suits your skin tone, y’know?”

Luffy and Usopp for their part, both just grin whenever they see you together — Luffy stoked at the fact that you seem more happy and talkative, Usopp gleeful at the way Zoro always seems so much softer when he’s next to you.

You’ve taken to watching him when he trains, sitting in the shade of the tangerine trees, a cold drink in your hand as Zoro runs through his katas. You content yourself with watching him flow through the movements, one and then another, and then another after that. He contents himself with your presence, knowing that you’re here, feeling your eyes as they skate down the length of his back or the width of his shoulders.

It’s a peaceful sort of companionship, even if it is living on borrowed time.

When you all wave the little island goodbye, it’s with heavy hearts and tearful smiles. It had treated you well, and you think you’d miss it. But adventure is as adventure does — it calls, beckoning to those with wandering hearts to listen.

The first week back at sea is a strange one, full of a ringing nostalgia. As if you’re simultaneously coming home and leaving one at the same time. Everyone is a bit quiet, except for Luffy, of course, who literally bounces off the freshly waxed planks, humming to himself as he sits on top of the great ram’s figurehead.

“Is he ever still?” you ask one day, sometime in the second week.

To which Zoro makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh, “You’ve been here a while. What’d you think?”

You sigh softly and tear your eyes away from the bright, shivering ball of energy that is your captain towards the far horizon. A sliver of uncertainty twines through you and your breath slows. Zoro glances at you, now long since attuned to your subtle shifts in movement and stillness. He narrows his eyes.

“What is it?”

You shake yourself back into the moment, forcing a smile.

“Nothing. I think…” your words fade as the feeling twists in you again, knife-sharp and stinging. You clear your throat and reach up to brush away a strand of hair. Skin grazes skin as Zoro’s hand meets yours in the same gesture and you both freeze — hands held up, his finger caught against the bend of your cheekbone, your fingers curling over his.

Time slows, slackens around the pair of you, and the moment stays, suspended in space — garnet dark and perfect.

Neither of you dare to breathe. It’s then that you realize how close Zoro is — close enough for you to see the entire ocean reflected in his eyes: big and dark and so endless it nearly unmoors you. Close enough for you to feel the warmth of his skin; his body, emanating heat. You’d often wondered, in the long hours of watching him train, at the glistening copper of his skin and the light-kissed quality, if the sun himself favored Zoro as well.

Like this, it’s easy to believe that beneath his skin, there pulsed something like sunlight.

“Look! It’s an island! It’s an island!”

And just like that, the moment shatters. Time slips back into motion and you pull away from each other, breathless, with warm cheeks and thundering hearts, feeling somehow lightning-touched and static-ridden.

You take half a step back, reaching up to press a hand to your mouth as if to stop something from tumbling through. But what? You can’t really say.

Zoro tips back as well, whipping around to help Usopp and Sanji with the sails as Luffy continues to holler, waving his hat. On the horizon, you see it looming — the silhouette of an island. You lower your palm from your lips to your heart and wonder what kind of island it will be.

Deserted — seems to be the answer when you all make landfall. The island is quiet, but the occasional chirp and cricket staves off your nerves as you all wander cautiously about the beach, squinting into the dense forest that seems to encompass the whole of the island.

“Looks like a good place to camp for the night!” Luffy says, grinning as he plops down on the sand.

Sanji nods, dusting off his hands, “We’ll need some wood for a fire, but I reckon I can whip up some grilled fish from the fresh catch.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and look around, glancing back at the darkening horizon.

“Something the matter?” Zoro’s voice is soft as he helps you carry some of the camping supplies from the ship.

“No… yes… I —” you look up at him, pursing your lips, “I don’t know. I’ve just… this island is…”

Zoro looks around, his dark eyes scanning the thick swath of forest just beyond the beach, “Too quiet?”

You let out a tiny laugh, “Yeah, something like that.”

He nods, “Don’t worry, I’m — we’re here.”

And he leaves it at that, hoisting a stack of wood over his shoulders and going to help Nami with the fire. You watch him with a smile, wondering what on earth you’d done to deserve this level of caring, this magnitude of kindness. Soon, dinner is had and drinks are shared and laughter is spilled like so many silver coins over the white sand beach. The lull of the evening takes over you all, and before long, Luffy and Usopp are slumped over each other, snoring loudly.

You stare into the depths of the fire and try to tamp down the growing dread festering inside your bones. All those years of holding still, of breathing and listening and feeling — you shake yourself — no, not all stillness is a bad thing. Not all silences are made the same.

“You’re doing it again,” Zoro’s voice almost makes you jump. Instead, you turn, finding him next to you as he nurses a half-drunk bottle of wine in his hands. He doesn’t look at you, but there’s a loose grin hinged across his lips.

“Sorry,” you say, ducking your head, feeling a now familiar heat creep into your cheeks that has nothing to do with the dwindling bonfire.

“Don’t be,” Zoro takes another drink, “But I told you… you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“I know… and I’ve said before —”

“Fear’s a hard habit to break,” Zoro echoes back at you, finally glancing over and catching your eye.

You breathe out, looking down at your own hands, “Yeah… but I’m trying.”

You both fall silent, and for a while, the only sounds are the crackle of the dying flames, the shush of the ocean waves, and the occasional snores from the rest of your crew. It’s late — later than you realized.

“Do you… want me to grab a book for you?”

You smile, “No, I don’t think it’s bright enough.”

“I could restoke the fire.”

“No, it’s — it’s okay.”

“Alright.”

A bird coos the distance.

“Why don’t you tell me a story?” you ask, turning to look at Zoro proper, shifting till your body is facing him.

In the faint light, you can see the edge of his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“You’re asking the wrong guy — you should wait till the Great Captain Usopp’s awake.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear one from you.”

Zoro sighs, his eyes fixed on the last of the flickering flames. He takes another swig of wine before he starts to speak, his voice low and a bit stilted, but he pushes on. He tells you about his childhood, the village he’d trained in, the doujou in the middle of the wood, his friend who he’d never beat — not even once.

He tells you about he early mornings and the late nights, and how the world had seemed large enough to conquer.

“… And then… there came a morning when she didn’t show up… and sensei came and told me that there’d been an accident.”

His voice almost breaks then, and your eyes catch on the shining white hilt of the Wadou Ichimonji — his thumb pressing against the guard, running along it’s hard metal edge.

“Oh… I’m sorry.”

Zoro shrugs, “Don’t be.”

You nod, “Still.”

Zoro slates you a lopsided smirk, “So. Now you know my tragic backstory too.”

You laugh, leaning back to cast your eyes up towards the sky, “And you know mine — it’s almost like we’re friends or something.”

Zoro lets out a long breath, “Yeah… or something.”

There’s a tightness to his voice that makes your skin tingle and it takes everything you have not to look over at him, to try and see if he’s looking at you, watching you the way you’d imagined him to be. You fancy you can feel his gaze on your face, but you close your eyes instead.

You let yourself fall into the warm haze of sleep, and for a while you drift there, your mind sifting through shards of memories and slivers of sound, casting them against the backs of your eyelids as you slowly slide into the darkness of dreams.

You wake up to a gasping stillness — the silence pressing in on your eardrums like thumbs, the darkness around you so complete it’s almost a solid thing. You freeze, your breath hissing to a halt inside you. Then distantly, ever so distantly, you hear the sounds of battle — metal clashing against metal, the hard thud of boots against flesh. You shake your head and reach up to clap your hands over your ears and only then do your senses return to you, snapping back as if you’d been abruptly shunted back into your earthly body.

“Gum Gum — Pistol!”

“Seize her!”

You whip into movement, fast as a flash, dashing away, hoping against hope that it would draw your attackers far enough from your crewmates.

“No one… ever… leaves us…”

The voice is serpentine and susurrus, sinking into your skin like sharpened teeth, but before it can reach you, it’s cut short by a bright flash of silver.

You gasp, whirling around, reaching for the nearest pulse, instinct taking over as you sink your fingers into muscle and flesh. The rush of blood thrumming beneath your fingertips comes too easy, even as a familiar scent accosts you. A moment later, your hands are being pinned above you, and thick, rough bark is digging into your wrists as Zoro stands before you, a sword in one hand, the other holding you still.

His eyes are a little wild and a lot worried. There’s a ring of red rawness around his neck, thin trickles of blood trailing along his jugular, disappearing into the wide scoop neck of his shirt.

“Hey, look at me.”

You nearly whimper, struggling against him, fear still coursing through you like a drug but Zoro is strong enough to keep you held. Behind him, you can see the rest of the crew fending off several shadowy figures, Usopp waving a torch, screaming at the top of his lungs, Luffy whooping as he whacks another figure with his fist.

“Z-Zoro?”

“Yeah, it’s me — eyes up here.”

You swallow in a breath, and then another, and you feel the bright thrum of urgency leave you as your body slowly falls slack. And then you’re slipping, and he’s looping an arm around you to keep you upright.

“Th-they’re here — they —”

“They’re gone — we got rid of them — hey.”

Zoro takes you by the shoulders and gives you a gentle shake. Finally, your eyes catch on his and your gaze holds. You see yourself reflected in them, stark and terrified, but alive — somehow alive.

“They’re gone,” he says, his voice soft and low by your ear, his arm still wrapped around your middle. Shivers wrack your body as you bury your face in his shoulder. He smells of steel and skin and the metallic tang of blood. It’s then that you remember — the wounds on the sides of his neck. The marks in the shape of your hands —

You jerk back and feel a sticky wetness against your cheek.

“Zoro, I hurt you!”

At this, he scoffs, pulling back far enough to flash you a look.

“This is nothing. C’mon.”

He offers you a hand, and after a second you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. Wordlessly, he presses his palm to the small of your back, his arm extended to keep you steady as you both make your way back towards camp.

“Phew! That was a workout!” Luffy is saying just as you both reach the outskirts of the now-darkened bonfire. Sanji is pulling out a cigarette, striking a match, and first lighting the end before tossing it into the remains of the firewood, fanning it up into a slow flame.

Nami and Usopp both look a bit shaken, but none worse for the wear.

They all pivot to look at you.

You go still against Zoro’s side, uncertainty flooding through you. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s fingers as they press into the bend of your waist, solid and steady.

Then, Usopp coughs, “C’mon y’all — the Shadows that Live? Psh! More like — the Shadows that Fled, am I right? Yeah? Didya see the way I sent ‘em runnin’ with my brand new fire-powered explosion rounds?”

Nami chuckles and Sanji follows suit, shaking his head and letting out a thin wisp of smoke. Luffy’s grins at you, pumping a fist in the air, clapping his right shoulder.

“See? Told you we’d have your back! We are your crew, after all!”

Weakness seeps into your limbs as you nod, hot pin-pricks of tears itching at your lower lashes. You lower your head and rub at your eyes before looking back up again with a smile. Sanji grimaces as he looks over Zoro.

“Got something on your neck, mate.”

Zoro glares but you glance over and feel your stomach twist with guilt.

“Sorry… I can clean that up for you. They’re not deep but they do need to be bandaged up.”

Zoro wipes down his sword before sheathing it and motioning towards the ship. Behind you, you can hear Nami yawning and saying something about catching up on some more sleep and Sanji reassuring her about having the last watch anyway.

The kitchen is still dark, but the dusty dawn sweeps against the far horizon and neither of you bother to turn the lights on. You carefully set the first aid kit on the kitchen counter and collect the supplies as Zoro leans back against the edge and folds his arms. You work in near silence, reaching up to first wipe the thin threads of drying blood before tending to the tiny, crescent-shaped puncture wounds.

You press an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against one of them and feel Zoro wince.

“Sorry.”

“I’m fine.”

You bite your lips, “If this had been a bit deeper or a few inches over —”

“But it wasn’t. So it’s fine.”

You don’t look up at him but you can feel his eyes on you. Your movements are fluid and sure; you’d clearly done this before.

“Hey, look at me.”

You freeze, eyes slowly gliding up the planes and divots of his neck, slipping up the line of his jaw, so sharp it might’ve been turned on a diamond cutter’s lathe. Your breath hitches as you finally meet his eyes, and there’s a dark, knowing glint behind them that makes your stomach flip.

“I’m fine.”

And for the second time in a handful of hours, you’re caught by the realization of your closeness — only a breath of space between you. There’s a crimp at the corner of his mouth that looks dangerously like a smile and then you’re tipping forward, a thumb reaching up to trace the line of his bottom lip once —

The movement acts like a trigger, and suddenly, he is leaning in and the breath of space disappears.

For all your life of stillness, you thought you’d learned to appreciate the depths and widths of movement. But nothing could’ve prepared you for this — for the push and pull of lips on lips, for the force and friction of skin against skin. For the gasp and hiss, for the breath and kiss.

For the feeling of his large palm as it settles along the swallow’s-nest bend of your neck, the way his thumb runs along your jaw like tracing the guard of his beloved sword, tilting your mouth towards him. For the way your heart might flutter like a tiny, caged bird, or the way you might feel his heart thumping like a fist from his chest to yours.

For the way his voice rolls over your name like a ship at sea; for the way it would shake your body from your bones and leave you more liquid than solid in his arms. For how you never used to think your story would be a love story, but then you realize that every story is a love story if caught in the right moment, in the right light.

And here, breaking apart from Zoro, with a thick, stolen streak of lemon-yellow sunlight leaking in from the kitchen window — that’s exactly what it feels like.

“Oh,” is all you have the strength to say.

Zoro, in all his solid brilliance and quiet audacity, laughs.

You taste the smile on your own lips before you realize you’re smiling. But when you try to bury your face in his neck, he winces slightly as you brush his still-fresh wounds.

“Crap, I forgot about these.”

Zoro chuckles as you hurry to press a few small bandages to the wounds.

“It’s okay. So did I.”

You finish dressing his wounds in silence, though this silence is markedly different from every other silence that had ever existed between you. There’s ease and tension, both, and when you’re finally finished, Zoro takes both your hands in his.

“So…” you say, unsure suddenly of where to look.

Zoro’s laugh is just as soft, just as uncertain.

“So.”

You try to look out the window, but by now, the dawning sun is so bright that it temporarily blinds you and you jerk back. Zoro smiles, reaching up to run his thumbs along your closed eyelids before dropping them to hook around your wrists again.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” he asks, quiet as always.

You purse your lips and let your lashes flutter open. You find him watching you. Heat crests up your shoulders and into your cheeks, and suddenly, the exhaustion of the night before saps at your limbs. You sigh.

“Right now? Not really.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, sounding as relieved as you feel.

You bite your lips and cast your gaze shyly across his face, your bird-wing heartbeat still flapping in your chest. You fight the urge to go still, to reach for that shield that has always protected you before. Faintly, you feel Zoro’s thumbs tracing circles along the insides of your wrists.

“Can I ask for something else, though?”

“What is it?”

You reach up a finger, nudging one of his golden earrings. You don’t miss the way he shivers, or the way his breath quickens in his chest.

“Kiss me again.”

Zoro grins, tugging you towards him, leaning into the curve of your palm as he does.

And does.

And does again.

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freedomfireflies · 3 months

Text

Insatiable You*

Summary: The second part to Infinite You*

The one where Harry wants to know more about these smutty books you read. And maybe have a bit of fun, too.

Word Count: 5.8k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, spitting, Sir Kink

“Begin.”

“Harry—”

“Begin,” he repeats. Stern. Final. “I’m not gonna ask you again, Kitten. This is what we agreed on, yeah? Said you would. So go.”

Your hands shake as you hold the book against your chest. You nod quickly, eager to please him, and you feel relieved when he smiles.

You open the novel and flip to the bookmarked page. You can feel him watching you from his place between your legs and you attempt to cover your face with the pages before he’s quickly—and easily—pushing the book back down.

He gives you a certain look that makes you swallow, and you nod again.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“S’okay,” he says. He’s trying not to smile. “But I wanna see you. You know that.”

You swallow for a second time and flick your attention back to the page. “So…just…anywhere?”

He hums. “Anywhere.”

You straighten up and clear your throat. “Damien was quiet as he entered Elizabeth’s bedroom. He could see her laid out in wait. Her familiar silhouette illuminated in the gentle light of the moon. He’d know her anywhere.”

You glance at Harry. He’s smirking. Intrigued. And you feel your cheeks warm as you look back to the story. Even if it’s not inherently smutty yet, you know it’s coming.

“He walked closer, careful not to disturb her peace as he made his way into her space. Pulling the soft blanket away from her hips to reveal the silk nightgown underneath.” You take a deep breath. You feel Harry squeeze your ankle. “He…he could see her glistening cunt beneath the sheer fabric. She’d been waiting for him. Working herself up in anticipation for his return. So it would be easier for him to take her once he arrived.”

As you read, you feel Harry’s fingers travel up the length of your leg and toward the large shirt resting around your hips. He pulls it back to reveal your glistening pussy. Equally as worked up as the one in the story.

You hesitate, embarrassed and enamored, before he nods once to reassure you. He’s far too amused to let you stop now. After all, this was your deal. You would read, he would reenact.

Your insides twist as you continue. “She stirred the moment his cold fingertips made contact with her warm skin. Still, he was gentle. He stroked and he pulled and he situated her where he wanted her. She was good. Quiet. Allowing herself to be moved without so much as a whimper.”

In turn, Harry’s large hands tighten around your hips. Tugging you away from the headboard and closer to his face. You gasp and clutch the book as though it’ll save you, but nothing can save you now.

“Go,” he murmurs and it’s anxious. He knows what’s coming and he knows he can’t begin until Damien does.

You continue. “Her body greeted him the way it always did. It was warm to the touch and seemed to call to him like a siren. Luring him closer until he had no choice but to take a taste.”

Harry scoots closer. Ready.

“His tongue flattened against her and he savored her need until he was short of breath. Licking and nipping at her until she awoke and cried out his name—”

However, you lose the rest the moment Harry’s tongue drags up your cunt and settles against your clit. And you decide that this is much better than reading alone because this is infinitely more vivid than the image in your head. Better than Damien, better than your own hand, better than a toy.

And Harry is beautiful. With his sharp, strong jaw that somehow looks sharper with the way he mouths at you. With his curls that are falling against his forehead and with the muscles that flex whenever he tightens his hold on your legs.

You drop the book onto your stomach and whimper, “Harry—”

He stops. Looks up.

“Sir,” you correct quickly. “Sir, please—”

“Keep reading,” he nearly grunts. He juts his chin toward the novel. “Go.”

Your fingers are trembling as you lift the book back up. He expects too much of you when his tongue is lapping at your body the way it is. “He did not waver. She was sensitive from whatever ministrations she had practiced before he arrived, but he carried on. He pulled…he pulled her clit between his teeth and gave her something to cry about.”

Harry follows suit and your eyes roll back. He’s perfect, considering he’s only done this once before. But he knows how to treat you, how to touch you, how to taste you. Better than anyone ever has. He’s insatiable and determined.

“He swallowed her down like a man dying of thirst,” you read through strained, shallow breaths. “She was his vixen. His wet, perfect little dream. Already pulling him closer by her warmth—shit—”

He smacks your thigh. Wrong. You keep reading.

“She pulled his hair and brought him closer. She lived within his lungs. He didn’t want the air she hadn’t touched. He wanted every drop that was wasted on the sheets below. The drops that belonged to him. Because her taste belonged to him. Always.”

Harry’s fingers curl around the backs of your thighs before he lifts them up. Creating more room and space for him to work. And he does. He takes and he groans and he licks a stripe from your ass to your clit. More intimate than you were expecting and you gasp before the book drops.

“No,” he seethes against your pussy. He licks harder, sucks faster. “Keep going.”

“Harry—”

“Go.”

You can hardly see the words through the haze in your eye. They’re melting off the page, blurring together. Still, you try. You obey. “Damien teased her with his finger. He knew she could take him, but he needed to hear her beg.”

In turn, the tip of Harry’s finger begins to smooth through the wet folds beneath his tongue. The sensation is overwhelming and you feel yourself clench at the very thought of him sliding inside. The anticipation almost dreadful.

But he doesn’t. Instead, his eyes find yours. “Beg me.”

Your breath catches. “Harry—”

He slaps your clit. Hard. “Beg me,” he repeats. “Fucking beg me, baby. Beg me to touch you. Beg me to stretch you. Beg me to fuck this cute little hole until you’re coming all down my hand.”

You clutch the paperback novel so hard, you feel it dent. “Harry—”

“Sir,” he corrects sharply. There’s something virile in his eye. A step past insatiable. Depraved. Like a wild animal with his prey.

And you aren’t afraid. You aren’t embarrassed or ashamed. Because you understand this hunger. It's the same hunger you felt after days of not being with him. Of knowing he was with Rebecca while you were alone with your pillow. Knowing he fell asleep in her arms instead of yours.

It's not just some itch you need scratched. It's him. His technique, his aurora, his presence. Mind, body, soul. Him. Nobody else will ever do it for you the way he can. Not even Damien.

“Beg me,” he repeats from below, ravenous attention locked on you. “Beg me, Kitten…and I’ll give it to you.”

You hold the book in one hand and his curls in the other. “Please,” you exhale. It’s airy and faint, but filled with a kind of desperation you know he understands. “Please, Sir. Please touch me. Please…it hurts.”

He hums and swipes his tongue over your clit. Teasingly. Temptingly. He thinks. “Does it?”

You nod quickly. “Anytime I’m not with you, it hurts. Please…nobody else can fix it.”

There’s a soft smile on his glistening lips. One you almost don’t catch through the tears in your lashes. “Nobody, hm?”

You shake your head.

“Have you been trying to find somebody else, Kitten?” He nips at you again. “Have you been going around, trying to give away what’s mine?”

Your eyes widen and your skin warms. You hate how much you love the possessive undertone. Even if he doesn’t mean it. “Never.”

He looks back up. “Do you promise?”

You swallow. You do promise, even though the truth is…you aren’t his. And you don’t imagine you ever will be. Still, you whisper, “I promise.”

And you mean it. More than anything.

Satisfied, the tip of his finger begins to push you open. Stretching the warm, quivering walls that are anxious to draw him in, effortlessly easing the ache in your stomach.

You let out a relieved sigh that makes him smirk and you adore his smugness. More than you should.

“Keep reading,” he repeats yet again while thrusting his finger in and out at a deviously slow pace.

The book shakes as it’s brought back up. “She…she pulled his hair and whispered his name. And he’d never heard something so beautiful. Her mouth was good for many things, but moaning his name was perhaps Damien’s favorite.”

Harry kisses everywhere he can. Your cunt, your thighs, your hip. Pulling at the skin and sucking it until it’s bright red and swollen before soothing it gently with his tongue.

“She was trembling beneath him,” you read. “She was sensitive and ready to give him her second orgasm. And he was ready to take it—”

“And are you ready, baby?” Harry says to you now. His grin is mischievous as he awaits your response. Because he knows you are. Knows that you were a good girl, that you did your homework and obeyed his instruction. That you touched yourself before he arrived, exactly like Elizabeth had.

You let out an unsteady breath and nod once. “Yes.”

“Good. Keep going."

You go back to your novel. “When she came, she was loud. Her naked body gleamed beneath her nightgown, covered in those dewy beads of sweat that made his mouth water. He wanted to run his tongue up and down every inch of her. To taste her, fully. To have her inside of him the way he was desperate to be inside her.”

Harry suddenly crawls up your body and begins to drag his tongue along your shaky stomach. A trail of saliva follows in the wake of his mouth and you can’t help but whimper as you watch him move toward your chest.

“Read,” he murmurs against your left tit, leaving you no choice but to oblige.

“When the light found her eyes, he saw what she really wanted,” you continue. “She pulled on him again and pleaded, ‘Damien, please. I can’t wait.’ So, he took himself from her swollen cunt and pressed his mouth to hers. He gave her a taste of herself and she swallowed it all, gladly—”

And before you can even ready yourself, Harry is taking your lips with his and sucking. Biting. Having. Feeding that hunger until you melt beneath him. Giving you the same taste Damien gave Elizabeth.

His tongue feels good against yours and the sensation is unfathomable. But not because of you...because of him.

He knows you can’t read very well like this, but he doesn’t mind. He draws back and holds your jaw in his palm until you open your mouth in acceptance. And then…he spits. Right down your throat, as though every drop belongs to you.

And you swallow it all. Gladly.

His kisses eventually move back down before he instructs you to finish the scene. And you struggle your way through it, despite how anxious you are to reach the end. “Her pussy welcomed him in and it felt like coming home. He held her throat in his hand and whispered, ‘Tell me, my love. Tell me what you did while I was away. Tell me exactly how you touched yourself as you waited.’”

You feel Harry nudge his nose underneath your chin before he says, “Go on, baby. Tell me.”

You close your eyes and allow the memory to find you. “I thought of you,” you tell him softly. Quietly. You’re embarrassed again and you don’t know why. “Thought of how you knew what I was doing while I did it.”

You feel him smile against your throat.

“Thought about what you told me to do,” you continue. “How…how you told me to take good care of your pussy until you got here.”

He hums and it seems to vibrate through the fingers still pumping inside your cunt. “And you did, didn’t you?”

You nod wordlessly.

“Tell me how.”

Another mesmerized inhale. “I was here,” you whisper. The noise he makes this time is greedier. “I was here and I…I remembered how you looked last time. I thought of you, and I…I tried to do what you would do.”

He grins a bit wider and it makes your chest swell. “Is that right, Kitten?”

“Mhm.” You clutch the book to keep from writhing. “And I moaned your name when I came. Knew I couldn’t come for anybody else. Didn’t want to.”

He nuzzles his face in your shoulder and groans. “God, you’re gonna fucking kill me, baby. You know that? My ego’s already too big.”

“Maybe,” you laugh breathlessly. “But it should be. You’re so good, Harry. Couldn’t wait to see you. Think I came just picturing you walking through my door.”

He leans back now and your heart drops. Perhaps that was a bit too honest. Too intimate. Especially considering that he’s still not yours to have.

He studies you a moment and you wait. Timidly. Preparing yourself for the disappointment that might follow his reply.

Then, he dips down, and nuzzles his nose against yours. “You’re too good to me,” he exhales. It sounds heavy. Scared. Sweet. “I don’t deserve you, Kitten. I hope you know that.”

You drop the book and take hold of the curls against the back of his neck. You squeeze them tight in your fist as you shake your head. You hate the resolve in his voice. “That’s not true. I’m just…here. I’m just me. You’re the one going out of your way to help me.”

Another smile but it’s softer. Sadder. “I think you’re helping me more than I’m helping you.”

You lift up and kiss him. “We’re helping each other,” you decide. “For as long as we can.”

When he kisses you back, you feel limitless. “Good.” He smacks his other hand against the outside of your leg. “Now, finish the chapter. We’re just getting to the good bit.”

You nearly whine but you do obey. Flipping through the pages until you find where you last left off. “Elizabeth looked at him, unabashedly. ‘What would you have liked me to do?’ she asked. Her voice was a silky purr. ‘How would you have liked me to touch myself without you? Would you have liked me to be soft and tender? Or would you have liked me to be just as hard and relentless as you?’”

Harry listens carefully, kissing a trail along down your chest while his fingers begin to work you closer. He knows you’re only moments away. Somehow, he always knows.

“‘Would you have preferred that I soak our sheets? Would you have liked to see the aftermath of my lust for you?’ She dragged her nails down his back. ‘Or do you like to know that I cannot touch myself the way you touch me? That my body does not respond to my hand the way it does yours?’”

Suddenly, he adds a third finger and your mouth instantly drops open. It starts to unravel before you can stop it and when he thrusts to the knuckle, you see those stars again. The same stars that brought him to you.

“Harry,” you gasp. You clutch his hair and his tongue dives forward. “Shit, Harry, wait—”

You come but he doesn’t stop. Damien might have, but Harry is most certainly not Damien. He flicks and sucks and pumps until you begin to cry. Until your legs are shaking on either side of his head and you’ve nearly yanked the curls from his skull.

Still, he pushes you toward a second—or rather, a third. And it’s far too quick for your liking.

“Har…shit, Harry, please—” You squirm and you fight against the almost painful pleasure radiating between your legs. “Hurts…hurts, Harry, please—”

“Don’t care,” you vaguely hear him murmur before he’s nipping at your clit again. “Again.”

Your cheeks are soaked and your fingers move from his curls to the bed beneath. You clutch the sheets and arch from the mattress, but he shoves you back down.

“Again,” he says. He slaps your pussy and you mewl. “You’ve done it before. Know you can do it again. Be good for me, come on. Be fucking good.”

And it’s almost sinister but it works. You come for a third time and your body feels wrecked. Ruined. Spent. You lose yourself in the sensation and by the time you find yourself again, he’s pulling his cock out and lining himself up.

“Read,” he demands next. He nods at the book. He’s determined to see this through. “Go. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Told me you used to fuck yourself to these books, so I wanna fuck you to them, too. Wanna show you how much better the real thing is. So fucking read it, baby.”

You mindlessly reach for the novel beside you and drag it back open. You know he’s right and you plan to rush through the rest of the chapter so you can throw the book away and never open it again.

“When he pushes in, his breath becomes hers,” you whisper. “Her cunt accepts his cock and molds to it. And he knows, undoubtedly, that her pussy was made for him. That she was sewn together in the heavens and left on his lap for such a purpose. Because no one would ever be able to please her the way Damien could. No other man could even try. She was made for him. To be loved by him. To be fucked by him. To live and die for him. They were one.”

Harry waits for you to finish the thought before he finally pushes forward, the tip of his large head disappearing between your folds.

He braces himself against your hips and your lungs nearly give out. And he watches. He watches every fucking second of the way his cock stretches you open. Curses when he sees the way you accept him. Grits his teeth and fists your skin until he’s completely bottomed out.

And then…he kisses you.

Long and slow and it almost feels grateful. Like he’s thanking you for letting him inside and you sigh against his mouth.

Then, the book is suddenly snatched from your hand and chucked across the room before he kisses you harder. He growls, “Enough. You don’t come for him anymore. You fucking come for me. Is that understood?”

You whine his name but it’s not enough.

“Is that fucking understood?” he repeats louder. “You are not to pick up that goddamn book as long as you’re mine, do you hear me? You will not touch yourself to another man’s words or soak these fucking sheets for anybody else but me.”

And even if Harry isn’t a possessive man by nature, you thrive off the instruction. The threat—the demand. You imagine he doesn’t truly mean it, nor would he be that cross with you if you were to do it again.

But it fits the scene and you want to be perfect for him. “I understand,” you whimper. You bite your lip but he bites it harder. “Though, technically…it was written by a woman.”

You like to think he’d laugh if it were any other time. Today, however, he merely yanks himself out of your pussy and flips you around.

You’re on your stomach and spread before you can catch your breath. And you feel him push back in without a moment’s hesitation while his hand comes down in a firm smack to your ass.

You cry out his name and nuzzle your cheek against the bed. You miss being able to see him, but you happen to adore this side of him, too.

“Did I fucking ask?” he hisses before spanking you again. You feel your skin grow hot where his hand lands and somehow, it brings you even closer to release. “Huh? I don’t fucking care who wrote it. It is no longer yours to read. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” you say again. “I do, Sir. I promise.”

He kneads the tender flesh in his palm before mumbling, “Good girl. Now, are you gonna take my cock, Kitten? You gonna let me show you how a real man does it?”

Thankfully, your fervent nod is answer enough and with that, he begins a harsh, unforgiving pace that turns your insides to jello.

The bed shakes and your body shakes and this is fucking. The kind you’ve only ever seen in porn and you are so incredibly present in this moment with him. You drink in every detail, the way he holds your body, the way he fucks into your pussy, the way it sounds when he slips.

His hips feel good against your ass and his soft grunts are euphoric. A few rendezvous aren’t enough, you realize. You thought you were addicted before but now…

You don’t think it’s fair that he doesn’t have to share you, but you have to share him. And you can’t hide the pout that forms on your lips at the very thought of him leaving you—leaving your warmth—to go find it with someone else.

And you know he’s not like that. You know he’s not actively with anybody else but you…and occasionally Rebecca. Still, the chance is there. The offer is his for the taking, should he decide to take it.

When you go quiet, he weaves his fingers through your hair. “Baby, what’s wrong?” It’s still gruff the way he speaks but laced with tender concern. The kind you’re used to from him.

You replace the pout with a small smile. “Nothing, Sir. I promise.”

“Would you like to take a break? Or change colors?”

You shake your head. “No. I promise.”

He slows his thrusts. “Are you thinking again?” he asks gently. “Did I lose you to those ugly thoughts?”

You could almost cry from the way he notices. The way he cares. Still, you force a brave face. “No, sorry. Just feels really good.”

He’s unconvinced. “Kitten—”

“Please don’t stop, Sir,” you whimper. You use the quiver in your voice to persuade him. To keep him in this moment with you instead of trying to yank you out. “Please, I’m…I’m so close. Just wanna come with you.”

You hear him sigh and the firm grip on your hip loosens. “All right,” he concedes, yet…he pulls out.

You nearly wither.

However, before you can, he’s rolling you over onto your back. “I wanna try something else with you this time,” he says. “Wanna see if you’d ride me.”

You feel your eyes grow larger while your head nods all on its accord.

And he grins when he sees how mesmerized you are, grabbing your hand to help you up as you both get situated near the headboard. An easier place to start.

He pulls you over his thighs before he’s slipping his hands beneath your large shirt to pull it over your head. And once he has full access to your chest, he takes advantage. Kissing and licking your tits while his palm flattens against your spine to keep you on his tongue.

Then, you sit.

You start slow, and he uses his other hand to guide your hips at a pace he prefers. A pace he knows will be easier on you. After all, you’ve never taken him like this, and he’d like you to enjoy every fucking inch of the way down.

You gasp and cling to his shoulders as you go. This stretch is just as tantalizing, yet strangely more pleasurable. He feels deeper than he ever has and you glance down at where your bodies meet as though you’ll be able to see just where he is.

He smiles and takes your hand. “Right here,” he murmurs, as though anticipating your wonder. He presses your palm flat against your stomach before nudging himself up into you and—

The gasp melts into a moan, and he thrusts up once more but keeps your hand taut to your tummy. To the subtle bulge you can feel moving beneath.

“Sh…shit,” you manage, nails scratching at your skin. “I’m…fuck, Harry, I—”

“I know,” he says gently. He’s watching you again. Curious to your reaction and seemingly enthralled by your response. Happy. Content. “I know, baby. S’good, yeah?”

You surge forward and kiss him. Taking your hand away only so you can drag it down his chest and claw at his heart as though desperate to reach inside and take hold. To keep it. Forever.

You can feel it thumping against his ribcage. Going about as fast as you imagine yours is and there’s something so incredibly wonderful about knowing he’s equally as possessed as you are.

He seems to realize he’s the first man to do something so intimate with you and he likes this idea. Likes that he will always be your first memory, forever ingrained in your past. He holds you harder and kisses you deeper and begins to move you faster over his cock.

You shift, and grind, and ride him until you’re both a mess of moans and incoherent praises. He helps lift you up and guide you back down, setting a strangely addictive pace of bouncing on his cock until you’re nearing a fourth. But you won’t succumb until he does.

Your body is spent, every limb tired and aching for relief. It almost hurts, this pleasure, but it’s oddly sweet. Everything always is with him.

“Doing so good,” you hear him say, and you peel your eyes open to watch the way he watches you. His face is magnetic, every inch of him just as erotic as the sex itself. Even the way he swallows and clenches his jaw in pure bliss. “So fucking good, Kitten, you gonna give me another?”

You mewl pitifully and attempt to nod but it’s useless. The pressure is building and the ache is distracting and you’re close but somehow not nearly close enough.

Yet your tears and meek reaction only entertain him further. He grins wickedly as he rolls you faster, taking your nipple in his mouth before looking up. “What’s the matter, baby, hm? S’it hurt?”

You nod again while your hands cement themselves to his shoulders for balance.

However, he merely hums while his fingers suddenly lift toward his lips and disappear beside his tongue. And he sucks. Loudly. Lewdly. Until they’re soaked and dripping.

And then…he drops them to your clit.

The sound you make is miserable and pathetic. It does hurt but in the best way and you bury your face in his neck as though to hide from the pleasure.

You feel him nuzzle his cheek against your head. “Shh,” he coos, and rubs his other hand up and down your spine soothingly. “You’re okay. You’re gonna take it, aren’t you? Gonna give me another—”

“Harry,” you cry, gripping onto his curls as though your life depends on it.

“You’re okay,” he repeats firmly. “You’re fine. I know you can take me, so take me. Just like you took your little fingers before I got here. You come for me the way you came for him. Okay?”

It’s mean and cruel and so incredibly sadistic but with one little pinch…he tips you over.

It’s quick but powerful and you’re drop kicked back into your body just in time to feel him twitch before he’s slamming you down and hissing, “Can I?”

You nod and he fills you. Completely and utterly, until your insides feel even fuller and your mind has gone numb.

His head drops back against the headboard, lashes fluttering shut with relief while you watch. You watch all of it. The way he dribbles out of your pussy and down onto his thighs. The way his cock sits snugly inside of you. The way his skin glistens from the sweat and exertion.

But you can’t help the whine that slips out when you see those delicious pearlescent drops go to waste and you squirm when you realize how much you’re really losing.

You’ve never been one to care about keeping it inside. In fact, you’ve never really cared about it at all. But now…it feels like you’re losing him. You’re losing this experience by letting it drip down and disappear, and you nearly start to cry.

He takes hold of your cheek and gently sweeps his thumb across the soaked, warm skin of your face. “Baby,” he breathes. “What’s wrong?”

You swallow thickly and attempt to relax. You don't imagine he'd understand. “Nothing, sorry.”

His head tilts but he’s still smiling. “Then why are you clenching me so hard? What’s wrong? Are you in pain, does it hurt?”

“No. No,” you assure him quickly. “No, I just…I don’t know. Feels like…a waste, I guess.”

He’s confused until you look down and the moment he realizes, he laughs again. “Oh, you sweet fucking girl—” He tugs you in for another kiss and now your body is numb, too. “God, I really don’t fucking deserve you.”

You whimper against his tongue and he sighs.

“I’ll give you more, don’t worry,” he says before kissing down your throat. “Next time. I promise. But right now, I wanna clean you up and make sure you’re all right.”

You’d likely protest if you had the strength, but instead, you allow him to care for you. He sets you down onto the bed as gently as he can before he’s rushing around your apartment collecting the things he needs.

He starts with a warm washcloth along your inner thighs to collect the sticky residue and add a bit of relief to your swollen cunt. And even though it’s sensitive and you try to squirm away, he soothingly talks you through it. Keeping you calm. Steady. Present.

Then, once he’s washed himself up as well, he asks if it would be all right to hold you. And it’s the easiest yes you’ve ever given.

So you stay in his arms for hours, your head on his chest, his lips in your hair. You talk about everything and nothing, just listening to the sound of his heart as he recalls past moments that made him happy. Like this one.

Then, your favorite part. He asks what you’d like to do next time.

“I don’t know,” you admit sheepishly. “I…I’m not sure what all I like.”

He thinks. “Well, we could do some research. Try a few things. You said you like things rougher, yeah? We could add some new dynamics. Degradation, harder spanking, punishments. Things like that.”

Your stomach flips. “You’re into punishment?”

He laughs and the sound is beautiful. “Yeah. Why, does that surprise you?”

“Honestly…yes and no.”

“We don’t have to go too deep if you don’t want,” he says. “We can keep it light, but the option is always there.”

You nod. “And…you like being rougher? You like…degradation and all that?”

“Yeah. Because I know my partner trusts me to take care of them even if I’m being harsh. And there’s something powerful in that, I guess. That their pain and their pleasure belongs to me.”

You feel yourself clench at the very thought before you’re scooting closer. “Well…that sounds good to me. I like being taken care of by you. Even if you’re mean.”

He laughs. “Was I mean, Kitten?”

“No. Just oddly possessive over that book.”

He hums before he looks toward the discarded novel on the other side of the room. “Yeah, well…fuck that book. I mean it.”

Now, it’s your turn to laugh. “Harry.”

“What? I do mean it.” He kisses your forehead. “You deserve better than some half-assed attempt at sex on a page. You deserve to be fucked and looked after. And Damien isn’t gonna do that for you.”

“No, but…I have other books.”

He snorts. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I just picked an easy one since I didn’t want you to get too jealous.”

“Is that right?”

“Yup. Although that clearly didn’t work very well.”

You feel him land a firm smack to your ass that makes you squeal before you settle again.

“Watch it,” he warns. “Or I’ll pull you over my lap right now.”

You grin. “Maybe you should.”

And when he chuckles, you feel whole. “Next time. Deal?”

“Deal.”

The room falls silent again as you exist in his hold. Against his heart. In his life in a way you never imagined.

And then…you ruin it.

“Was she surprised you were coming over again?” you ask quietly, breath already catching in anticipation of his response. “Or was she…mad?”

Yet true to form, he’s calm. “No,” he says easily. “She was happy, honestly. Just surprised you didn’t mention it to her yourself.”

You grimace. Right. “I…yeah. Sorry, I…I think I got scared.”

You feel his cheek roll across your head before he’s scratching his nails up and down your back. “Why, Kitten?” he asks softly. “She’s not scary, I promise.”

“I know. Fuck, I know. I know, I…I don’t know.” You groan. “I think I…I just think I’m still not used to this. To this idea of…sharing? And I keep worrying that she’s gonna change her mind and…and it’ll be over. Just like that.”

He considers this for a beat before he’s kissing your crown again. “She’s not like that. I promise. She never would have agreed if she thought she’d change her mind.”

“…I know.”

“And even if she did, she doesn’t get to make that decision for us,” he tells you. “If we want to continue, that’s our choice. And nobody else’s.”

This makes you smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Another kiss. “But you know she doesn’t want this to upset you. She cares about you a lot, Kitten. She values your friendship more than anything and she’d hate to know she’s made you so anxious.”

And just like that, you feel dejected again. “I know…”

“I don’t want to come between you two,” he whispers, and you know he means it. “And if I am—”

“No,” you interject. “No, you’re not. But I don’t want to come between you two, either.”

“You’re not,” he echoes smugly. “And I think that’s why this works. We’re good at sharing. At least with each other. And I like it this way.”

The contentment in his voice makes your heart swell and you reach up to kiss him firmly in response.

But the truth is, you don’t think you are very good at sharing. At least not him.

Although, you suppose you’ll have to learn.

Because next time…you don’t plan to let him go.

Writing smut inside smut is no joke 😭

Next Part:

~ Insufferable You* (Pt. 3)

Previous Part:

~ Infinite You* (Pt. 1)

~ Full Infinite You Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @butdaddyilovehim-hs

#harry #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry styles smut #harry styles request #harry styles concept #smut #concept #friend!harry #harry and kitten #open relationship!harry #soft dom!harry

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godslino · 3 months

Text

MIGRATION | bang chan first date series. strangers to lovers.

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader word count: 5.5k genre: fluff, romance, falling in love at first sight summary: you've never been lucky when it comes to dating, but a blind date with chan just might turn that around

author’s note: hello and welcome to my first date series!! i seriously had so much fun writing this and i’m so excited to continue with the other members. i hope you all enjoy! if you liked it, please remember that any and all feedback is appreciated!! happy reading <3

“So…I know a guy.”

You groan, throwing your head back against the cushion of the booth you’re currently shoved into. Changbin drops his fork to gesture at you with his hand, a look of exasperation on his face.

“Come on, I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“The problem is that you’ve said anything at all.” You say, glaring at him as you reach for your drink.

Changbin, as much as you love him, is notorious for being the worst wing man in the history of wing men. His most recent pick, Jooyoung, was a friend of his from high school. A freelance writer, the owner of a snazzy apartment in one of the more sophisticated districts of Seoul, and conveniently single. They’d recently reconnected after a mutual friend threw a party that they both went to, and he was ecstatic to try and set the two of you up.

You’d been reluctant, rightfully so, but Changbin is anything but a quitter and you also just so happen to be the world’s biggest pushover (his pout is just too good, okay?), so you’d agreed on the off chance that it just might work out.

Long story short, it didn’t.

Jooyoung was probably the biggest asshole you’d ever been on a date with. Not that you were surprised, though. Changbin’s circle of friends when he was younger mainly consisted of grade-A douchebags who were born with a golden spoon in their mouths. Perks of being born into a wealthy family and attending one of the most elite private schools in the country, apparently. Changbin had attended a university on the outskirts of Seoul for a reason. Lesser known, laid back—to study music of all things—and the sole reason for his father’s headache, as he’d put it. That’s where he met you.

“Okay, but I think this guy might be the one.” He makes air quotes around the two words, and you scoff as you cross your arms.

“And what would you know about that?”

“Um, a lot? You’re my best friend, I know exactly what you’re looking for.”

This is the part where things go south—or so you assume. Changbin puts on the puppy eyes, jutting his bottom lip out to hell as he stares at you from across the table. You glare at him dead on, unwavering. He won’t get you this time. Not over your dead body.

“At least let me tell you about him?”

“No.”

“I met him at the company. He makes music just like me, only slightly better. And you know how I am, I don’t just say that stuff. That means he’s really good.”

Choosing to ignore him, you go back to poking at your noodles.

“He’s from Australia. Born here, moved there when he was young, then moved back to pursue music. Kinda ballsy if you ask me. But he speaks English, so at least communication won’t be as much of an issue as other guys.”

A small crack in your composure. The idea of this guy growing up somewhere other than Korea is…pretty intriguing.

Despite moving here three years ago for school, it’s still kind of hard to communicate when your Korean could be more polished than it is. You’d basically kept to yourself for the first year until you met Changbin. He’d easily integrated you into his group of other music majors, even though you stuck out like a sore thumb as both a foreigner and a stem major. But if it weren’t for him, you think that you might’ve hauled ass back home a long time ago due to the isolation. So to be introduced to someone who can speak english, under the prospect of possibly dating them, sparks a bit more interest.

Changbin notices the slight twitch of your brow and smirks, one side of his mouth pulling downwards. Bastard.

“Hmm, what else? Oh! Dude’s got a killer set of dimples. You’re into that, aren’t you? You used to go on and on about that younger guy in your physics class during senior year. What was his name—Jeongsuk? Jeong—Jinyoung? Jeongin! It was Jeongin.” Changbin snaps his fingers like he’s impressed with his own memory, pointing at you as you fix him with a blank stare. “He has dimplessss.” He sing-songs for emphasis.

And, really, this should not be the breaking point. You’re better than this. You’re not so shallow that you would throw away your pride for a man you’ve never met—let alone never seen before—all because he has dimples.

But, once again, you’re a pushover. A big one. So yeah, fuck it.

“What’s his name?”

Changbin blinks like he wasn’t expecting you to fall for it. “Seriously? That’s what got you?”

“You have five seconds to tell me his name before I change my mind.”

He scoffs, mouth agape. “I went as far as disregarding my own talents to play up this guy and his music making abilities—”

“Five.”

“—tried to give you a little bit of a backstory, too—”

“Four.”

“—and the dimples are the final nail in the coffin?”

“Three.”

“Chan! His name is Chan. God. Just—stop counting. It freaks me out.”

Chan. You throw the name around in your brain for a bit, pointedly ignoring the way Changbin is whining about how you sound like his mother when you do the whole number thing. It’s kind of…cute. Not enough to conjure up an idea of what he might look like, but putting a name to a faceless stranger with dimples in your head is gonna have to do for now.

“You swear this guy is normal?”

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Define normal.”

“Okay, let me rephrase myself,” you push your plate forward, laying your forearms on the table as an indicator that you’re serious, “Is he an asshole?”

“No.”

“Hm. Okay. So that’s a maybe.”

“What the fuck? I just said no.”

“Yeah? You also set me up with Jooyoung, remember? The guy who literally started flirting with the waitress right in front of me five minutes into our date? And then proceeded to yell at her when his fries weren’t salted?”

“How was I supposed to know…” Changbin mumbles, looking off to the side guiltily.

“Nevermind. Just—if this goes bad, I’m blaming you. And then I’m never going on a blind date with one of your friends again. Matter of fact, I’m never going on a date again, period. Deal?”

Changbin grins, the apples of his cheeks shiny under the restaurant lighting. He holds his hand out for you to shake, and you take it hesitantly, grimacing when he uses his strength to jostle your arm like a ragdoll.

“Deal.”

🎥🍿

Any hope you had for the date going smoothly starts to dwindle once Chan texts you the day of.

You’d gotten his number from Changbin, who had so kindly already given Chan your number before he’d even broached the subject with you. The resulting lecture about privacy and consent may or may not have extended the rest of your time at the restaurant, a sheepish Changbin rubbing at the back of his neck while you berated him for his lack of common sense.

When your phone buzzes on your bathroom counter, Chan’s name flashing across the screen, you mistakenly think that he might be messaging because he’s early. Which, given the fact that you were standing in nothing but a towel, hair still wet from your shower and face covered in moisturizer you hadn’t rubbed into your skin yet, would be less than ideal.

Chan [12:32p.m.]

Hey! I’m really sorry to have to do this, but can we push the date back an hour?

Something came up at the studio

I tried to get out of it but I have a deadline to meet, client probably won’t be too happy of their track isn’t done on time

Great. Already off to a rough start.

In his defense though, you appreciate the fact that he’s messaged a whopping two hours in advance. Most people probably wouldn’t be bothered to allow that much of a grace period.

You [2:33p.m.]

no worries!!!

you didn’t buy the tickets yet, did you?

Chan [2:34p.m.]

Nope! So we should be fine

I’ll purchase them for 6 and then be there to scoop you up around 5:30 if that’s cool?

You [2:36p.m.]

sounds perfect

hope stuff goes well at the studio!!

Chan [2:40p.m.]

You’re sweet

Thank you, I’ll see you soon :)

You’re sweet. You stare at the words on the screen, your brain buffering for a moment. A big fat loading circle floating above your head.

Suddenly it’s way too hot in the bathroom. You blame the fact that you shower with the water cranked all the way up to boiling, because really there’s no other explanation for the warmth spreading throughout your cheeks.

To be fair, it’s been almost a year now since you’ve had any sort of positive interaction with another male. On one hand, your last relationship ended in a ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ ordeal that most definitely gave the impression that it was you. On the other hand, most of the dates you’ve been on have ruined themselves within the first five minutes, never really giving you the chance to feel any sort of connection. Cocky attitudes, overly pushy encounters, and even someone who walked into the cafe you were seated at, took one look at you, and walked right back out. That one still hurts.

It’s a little sad that Chan is the only guy out of the mix whose elicited any sort of reaction out of you. Especially since you haven’t even met him yet.

The extra hour that you have to compensate for flies by a lot quicker than you expect, and before you know it Chan is messaging that he’s five minutes away.

You take one last glance in the mirror: a pair of light wash jeans that sit right above your hips, black halter top bodysuit, and a thin cream colored cardigan to tie it all together. Simple and cute. A movie date doesn’t really call for all the dramatics, and you’d hate to overdress for a first impression.

You’re in the middle of reapplying your chapstick when the doorbell rings.

Take it easy, you say to yourself, inhaling deeply as you reach for the door handle. You let the air out with one final huff, swinging the door open only to be met by a bouquet of daisies directly in front of your face.

You blink in surprise. Well that’s a first. Before you get a chance to speak, the bouquet is being lowered, and the moment Chan’s face comes into view causes a small gasp to fall from your lips.

He’s…cute. Beautiful, even. A bright smile, dimples that tuck themselves into his laugh lines as his eyes disappear into crescents much like the moon, and lips that make your head spin when his tongue darts out to wet them nervously. His hair falls messily across his forehead in a faded hue of purple with hints of brown, definitely unconventional and an obvious result of one too many washes, but he makes it work. He makes it work well.

He clears his throat, brings a fist up to his mouth to emphasize it, and then grins. “Hi there.”

It takes a second for your brain to catch up. Even his voice is attractive. He’s using english, which leads you to assume that Changbin has already told him that you’re not from here. His accent is there, not too noticeable but also strong enough to be picked up on.

“Hey.” You smile, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.

“These are for you. I, uh, as an apology for being late. Is it too much?”

You shake your head quickly. “No! No, these are—they’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you…Chan.” His name rolls off your tongue hesitantly, but it all disappears as soon as he flashes that smile again.

“Good, I’m glad,” his voice catches the breathy end of the laugh he lets out, “This is weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I don’t really do well with this kind of stuff. But you look really nice, and I’m excited. My car is parked just out front if you’re ready to go.”

Honest. Awkward. A laugh that makes you want to hear it over and over again. You were sold the minute his eyes met yours. Chan offers his elbow for you to take like you’re in some cheesy romance movie from your childhood.

Yeah. This one is definitely gonna go well.

🎥🍿

Chan might not show it, but he’s just as nervous as you are.

You wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance that he spent an entire forty-five minutes deciding on an outfit, only to settle with some jeans and a white shirt, a jacket thrown on top for some color.

When Changbin first proposed the idea of going on a date with you, he was adamant that he wasn’t looking for anything right now. But as soon as you opened the door, eyes wide and looking like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, he’s glad he said yes.

“So what movie are we seeing?” you ask, frowning when Chan laughs. “What? What’s funny?”

“It’s a surprise.” He smiles, rushing forward to hold the door of the car open for you. When he puts his hand against the top part to block your head, you have to suppress the smattering of butterfly wings that start to clamor against your ribcage.

Chan is sweet. He double checks that you’re buckled in before driving off, he asks if there’s any specific music you want to listen to before foregoing it all entirely to ask about you instead, he listens with an attentiveness that has you feeling seen and heard, and he smiles with such genuinity and warmth that you feel cold once it disappears. You stare at him in awe, like he’s a figment of your imagination.

Chan’s been staring back, too. He spares glances in your direction when you’re not looking, feels the steady thump of his heart gradually increase whenever you lean a little too far to the left when he makes you laugh, and he thinks your voice is prettier than anything that’s ever played on the radio.

You learn more about him as he drives. He moved back from Australia when he was seventeen, he’s got two younger siblings and an adorable puppy named Berry back home (and pictures on his dashboard to prove it), he prefers Australia’s summers over Seoul’s winters but he finds more inspiration here in the city than anywhere else. You resonate with the fact that he doesn’t really have anyone here besides a small circle of friends. No family, no one to fall back on when things get tough.

Chan talks like he’s an old friend, like he’s re-telling a story you’ve heard a thousand times. He makes it easy to fall into step with him as if you’ve been here all along.

By the time the two of you get to the movie theater, the initial awkwardness that had hung in the air is gone, replaced by comfort and ease. Chan throws the car in park and all but books it out of his seat to open your door for you, and you giggle when he makes a dramatic bow as you exit.

The theater is kind of busy for a Thursday night. There are families with their kids lined up to get tickets and groups of teenagers at the concessions, all of which make for a crowded lobby. Chan glances down when you place a hand on his arm, mostly because you want to stay close, but also because it’s hard to ignore the feeling of being magnetized towards him. He smiles, bending at the elbow to allow your arm to slip into his.

There are cardboard cutouts along the sides of the lobby, all of which serve to promote the newest animated release about a family of ducks. You squint at the showtimes once the two of you make it to the front of the counter, letting your eyes scan the movie titles until you finally land on—

“Two tickets for Migration, under Bang Chan.”

The girl behind the counter looks up, her eyes bored. She can’t be any older than sixteen, most likely resentful about the fact that she’s stuck here on a school night. “The kids movie?” She asks, unimpressed.

Chan braves a glance in your direction and—ah, there goes that grin again. Cue the butterflies. You’d agree to a three hour long showing of static and white noise if it meant he’d never stop doing that.

“Yup, that’s the one.”

Tickets in hand, a smiling Chan right next to you, and a massive line for popcorn that honestly might have the two of you late for the previews. “We’re seeing a kids movie?” You ask, moving up a spot in the line.

“Mmhm. I spent so long looking at all the options. The romcoms seemed boring, Bin mentioned that the newest superhero movie was bad, and I figured a scary one was too cliché,” he eyes you sidelong, “Unless you’re into that.”

You huff out a laugh, not really expecting him to be so straightforward, “I definitely am not.”

“Hm, so the old yawn to put my arm around you trick won’t work?” His eyes are playful, but something about the idea of being in even more contact with him has your stomach doing flips.

“Nope. Sorry. Seen that one before.” You say, making him laugh, his earring dangling when he drops his chin towards his chest.

“I guess I’ll have to figure out something else then.”

Another thing you learn about Chan is that he enjoys interesting food combinations.

“You like peanut m&ms?” he asks, throwing a bag of them onto the counter when you nod your head. After he pays, he pockets his wallet and turns to you with a bucket of popcorn tucked under his arm and a large drink with two straws in his hand. “Could you grab the candy?”

First door, theater one. There are a bunch of parents and their kids entering ahead of you, all of them buzzing with excitement. It’s a little funny, the fact that two grown adults—no kid in tow—are walking into the showing of a kids movie.

Chan leads you to the very back row. “For the kids, just in case they can’t see over us.” He quickly clarifies after noticing the way your eyebrows shoot up in silent question, but even in the dim lighting you can still see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Taking me to a kids movie and then propositioning me in the presence of five year olds? You’ve got some nerve.” You say, timing it perfectly as Chan is leaning forward to take a sip of the drink that’s placed in the cupholder between the two of you. He sputters around the straw in surprise, coughing into his fist.

“That’s not—” You laugh, cutting him off as he stares at you with red eyes from his coughing fit. The mood shifts after that, and Chan visibly relaxes into his seat as he starts throwing jokes out a lot easier than before.

“Learned this from my dad,” he says, opening the bag of m&ms, “It’s my favorite thing to do at the movies. Haven’t been in a while because—well, I don’t really have anyone to go with.”

You watch as he dumps the candy into the popcorn bucket, shaking it to mix everything together. He reaches in to grab a piece of popcorn and an m&m at the same time, popping it into his mouth.

“Oh my god,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, “Forgot how good that is.”

When you don’t respond, he looks over. “You okay?”

Are you? You’re not sure. Every bone in your body is screaming bloody murder because Chan is making it really hard to not want to lean over and kiss the concerned frown off of his stupidly pretty face.

The thing about it is that you don’t do blind dates. And you most especially don’t enjoy them. But Chan is different. Chan holds doors open for you and makes corny jokes. Chan laughs at everything like it’s his last day on earth and he’s making up for lost time. Chan listens when you talk and responds with genuine interest. Chan compliments the little girl in the theater lobby who’s wearing a princess dress to watch the new superhero movie. Chan shares something as special as his dad’s favorite movie snack with you. Chan is just…Chan. And you like him. A lot.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just—thank you. For sharing that with me.” You say, the corners of your mouth lifting.

“Stop doing that.” He mumbles, eyes trained ahead.

“Doing what?”

“Smiling. It makes my head spin.”

Your heart slams against your chest. You’ve spent the entire date trying to make sense of the way Chan makes you feel, trying to put it all into words. Yet here he is, right in front of you, saying his thoughts as they come and absolutely ruining your resolve in the process. Like it’s easy for him.

There’s no time to answer when the lights go down, the screen up front widening to signal the start of the movie.

Just like any other kids movie, it’s easy to get caught up in all the surface level jokes while also understanding the themes. You and Chan laugh outwardly at some parts, hold your breath at the suspenseful ones. It’s almost like you’re a kid again, enjoying yourself fully for the first time in a really, really long while.

Chan was right, the popcorn and m&m combination is good. You reach back into the bucket for more, freezing when Chan does the same and his knuckles brush yours in the slightest of touches, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. It happens a few more times, each one leaving his hand lingering for far longer than the last, until eventually he makes a show of digging really hard for an m&m and hooks his pinky with yours in between the popcorn. It’s cheesy and cliché but god does it make your stomach do somersaults.

About three-quarters of the way through the movie, when it’s clear that neither one of you are willing to take it the next step further, you lean into his ear.

“You okay? You look kind of tired.”

Chan turns, confused. He’s certain that he wasn’t dozing off. He did have a late night last night. He was up working on the track that still somehow managed to hold him back today, hoping to have everything polished so that he didn’t run into any obstacles before your date. But that didn’t really work out in the end.

“Huh? No, I’m fine. Honest.”

“You sure?” you ask, a slight lift to your voice, “I don’t know, you looked like you were about to yawn.”

The light from the movie hits the left side of his face, illuminating all of his features in a way that makes your breath hitch. He’s pretty. So, so pretty.

Chan blinks, slow, and then his confusion slowly turns to one of understanding. Cue the grin.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it…I am kind of tired.” He makes a show of fake yawning, stretches his arms above his head (and not blocking any children since you’re in the back row, thankfully), before bringing his right arm down and around your shoulders.

You spend the rest of the movie like that, tucked into Chan’s side while his fingers move gently against your shoulder. He’s unbelievably warm, and eventually you find your head resting in the spot just between his shoulder and his neck, his cheek pushed up against the side of your head. The position makes it easier to reach up and pat his eyes dry at the end, a single tear slipping out as he sniffled and mumbles a ‘M’not crying’ that has you giggling and doting all over him.

He doesn’t move his arm for the entire walk back to the car, and you momentarily mourn the loss when he opens the door for you (again!) so you can climb in. When he finally gets in on the other side, he says nothing, just reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours and places your joined hands on the center console like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times.

“Ready to go home?” He asks, looking over at you.

You glance down at your hands, then back up at him. “Is it weird if I say no?”

“Not at all,” Chan grins, throwing the car into drive, “I was hoping you would say that.”

🎥🍿

“For you.”

Chan plops down on the bench, a hand outstretched with a steaming hot chocolate ready for you to take.

“Thanks,” you smile, cradling the cup between your hands.

After some deliberation, you and Chan had decided to come to the Han River. It’s quiet, the bridge lights reflecting off the water as the sounds of the city fade into the background. The temperature is slightly on the colder side, the tail end of winter just barely there. When he notices the slight shiver of your shoulders after a particularly strong gust of wind, Chan shucks his jacket off in a heartbeat to drape over you.

“Oh, you don’t—”

“You’re cold,” he scolds, pulling at the collar of the jacket to tighten it around you. His hand lingers near the base of your neck, fingers itching to reach out and touch. He doesn’t though, just smiles and settles back into the bench. “Plus I think Changbin might actually kill me if something were to happen to you.”

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “Ignore him. I’m not a baby.”

Chan takes a sip of his own hot chocolate, licks his lips to catch the excess. Not that you’re staring. “I’m serious. I mean, I get it. He told me that you’re here alone and stuff.”

You hum in understanding, turning your head to stare out at the water. “So are you.”

It’s Chan’s turn to look at you now, his elbows resting against his knees, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as his face turns unreadable.

The silence stretches thin, nothing but the sound of cars passing and a dog barking nearby. It’s kind of comforting in a way. Being on your own in a new place has been one of the hardest transitions you’ve ever had to deal with. There were times where it felt like a mistake, where you wished that you’d never even gotten on the plane. But then there were times where you felt lucky to be experiencing the things you are; to be able to try new things and pursue a life for yourself that you never thought possible.

“How’d you do it?” you ask quietly, turning to meet Chan’s gaze. “I mean, you were young. Seventeen is basically still a kid. Being alone in a place like this is scary as an adult, I can’t even imagine what that was like.”

Chan smiles, but it’s sad. His eyes twinkle with something like resentment, the lights from the bridge making it look like he’s glowing. A flame that’ll never burn out. “Would you believe me if I said I’m still figuring it out?” The end of it comes out as a laugh, but you can tell he means it.

“I don’t know, being a big shot music producer with deadlines and clients seems pretty figured out to me.”

Chan nods and stares at the cup in his hands. “My parents hated it. Still do, I think.” You don’t say anything. Chan is grateful for that; grateful for the space you’re giving him to explain. “They wanted more for me I guess. But I’m not sure that more would’ve necessarily been what I wanted, you know? I’m content with where I am now. I’m doing something I love, even if it took a while to get here. They don’t see it.” He chews his lip nervously, fingers playing with the soggy material of the paper cup’s rim.

Chan doesn’t know why he’s saying any of this. He’s not the type to completely bare himself out to anyone, to scoop away at his insides until there’s nothing left besides the hollowness he feels whenever he thinks about how he traded his life back home for a life of music. But you’re different somehow. Chan knew since the moment he saw you, felt it in the way your eyes lit up whenever he spoke and in the ease of how well the two of you got along. He was doomed from the start.

“I see it.” you say, your eyes still fixed on the water. “I might’ve only just met you today, but I see it. And I get it, too. Maybe not to the same extent, but the feeling of wanting to do something for yourself even if it meant losing something else. There’s purpose in that, in you. It’s okay to be selfish if it means you’re prioritizing your happiness.” You let the words settle for a bit, hoping that you don’t sound too shallow. When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking back.

“You don’t know me enough to say that.”

“I don’t have to know you to believe in you, Chan.”

A beat of silence, and then he’s laughing, short and punctuated as he lets his head fall forward with a small shake.

“You’re…”

“What? Corny?” you supply, smiling over at him.

“No,” he says, meeting your gaze. “Perfect.”

You huff out an incredulous laugh, looking away to hide the blush that’s spreading across your cheeks. “You can’t just—god, now who’s corny? Huh?”

“I never said I wasn’t corny.” Chan argues, sitting up to face you fully.

“Yeah but you can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not? I think you like it.”

Your mouth opens and closes quickly, lost for words. Chan’s closer now, a lot closer than he was before. One arm thrown across the back of the bench, loosely framing you in, he bends it at the elbow to bring a hand up and tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I never said that.” you mumble, your gaze flicking down to his lips and then back up again.

“You want me to stop then?” he asks, voice just above a whisper. You know what he’s implying the minute his fingers trace the shell of your ear, moving down slowly until they start playing with the collar of his jacket.

“Is it bad if I say no?”

Chan’s hand is warm to the touch, ice to fire. You lean into it. A moth to a flame, one that’ll never go out.

“Not at all,” he repeats, just like earlier, “I was hoping you would say that.”

A dog barking in the distance. Cars beeping as they pass by. A plane flying overhead. A group of friends laughing as they ride past on their bikes. The minute Chan’s lips connect with yours, everything fades, the sounds warbling together like static. Unintelligible; nothing besides the feeling of Chan kissing you matters.

It’s slow, nothing more than a press, but you feel it in every fiber of your being. Kissing Chan feels like the poles of the earth are colliding, meeting in the middle and sending its molten core spreading throughout your entire body. Warm, warm, warm. Chan is warm. He’s soft and gentle and his lashes tickle your cheeks when his eyes flutter closed halfway through because he was too busy etching your features into his memory.

You’re the first to pull away, admiring the way Chan’s eyes slowly peel open, lips swollen and pink. Unable to resist, you lean in and peck them once more, giggling when he blinks at you in shock.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been as compelled to kiss someone as I was just now.” You smile.

“Me too,” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t normally do dates anyways. At least not ones that don’t immediately go up in flames.”

“What about now?” Chan asks, raising an eyebrow. “Have I changed your mind?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I kind of told Changbin that if this was a disaster I was never gonna go on a date again.”

Chan laughs and pulls you into his side, tucked right under his arm like the shape of him was molded in a way to make sure that you fit perfectly in his embrace.

“Is it bad if I say I like that idea?” He asks, glancing down at where your head is resting against his chest.

“Nope,” you say before leaning up to kiss him once more. He smiles into it when he feels your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, humming softly against your lips.

“Worst date ever, then?” he mumbles against your mouth.

“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling back to stare into his eyes, big and brown and brighter than the stars, “Worst date ever.”

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny ]

#bang chan x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan fic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fanfiction #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz fic #skz fanfiction #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst #bang chan #stray kids #skz #first date series

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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months

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how to enjoy reading WIPs

(if you always read complete works only)

Reading along while an author is actively posting their fic can be a great experience. Much like watching a show or series that airs weekly, reading a fic that posts a new chapter every few days or twice a month etc. can be a lot of fun. Here are some ideas of things you can do to enjoy the experience, if it's new to you:

get intrigued - where is the author going with this? How are they going to roll out the plot that they described in their summary/tags? what tone are they setting in their first chapter(s) and how do you think that will carry through the story? So much is possible, and you'll get to find out!

read the author's notes - are there hints of what's to come? are they looking for suggestions? maybe you get to know the author a little bit or connect with their social media.

read the comments - You'll often see some back and forth in the comments section between readers and the author, especially if they are friends. You might also see some speculation about what's upcoming in the fic or some references to fanon or canon that might interest you.

leave a comment - this can become an enthusiasm loop where you shout your enjoyment at the author and they shout their joy at your comment back at you. It might even lead to friendship - either with the author or with other commenters. Even if the author isn't the type of person to reply, your comment will likely encourage them to keep updating the story.

subscribe - at the top of the fic, you'll find a subscribe button (if you're a logged in user). If you hit that, AO3 will send you an email every time that fic updates. You'll be able to read the fic soon after it's posted or save it as a treat or to reward yourself later.

get a friend to read it too - then you'll have someone to theorize with and squee with when a new chapter is posted. Having someone to talk to about things always makes them more fun.

if the fic goes on hiatus - you still had all the fun of reading it while it was still posting, and now you get to imagine what might happen next. You can still reread (and even comment, if you'd like) as often as you like until that new chapter drops, and if you're subscribed, you'll find out about it - even if it takes years.

Reading works in progress isn't everyone's cup of tea, but I think it can be a lot of fun - especially if you know someone else who's reading it too.

If you're someone who already reads works in progress, tell us why in the notes ❤️

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fragiledewdrop · 7 months

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WHERE NOW THE HORSE AND THE RIDER-Aka how I just had a Tolkien related freak out on the train

I can't believe what just happened to me. As in, it's such a weird chain of events that it has left me a little dizzy.

I was reading "Les Nourritures Terrestres" by Gide, and I got to a point he cites parts of a poem which I liked very much. The notes informed me that it's a French translation of "an 8th century saxon elegy called 'The Wanderer' "

That intrigued me, and, being on a train with a lot of time to pass (plus being a little tired of reading in French), I took out my phone and searched for the poem.

I found it here. It's the lament of a warrior in exile who has lost his lord and mourns the joy and glory of a world that has now disappeared. I was enjoying it a lot.

And then I got to this point:

And my mouth actually dropped open, because what?

Are you telling me that the Lament for the Rohirrim, one of my favourite poems in LOTR, which I learnt by heart at 13 and later took care to learn in the original English, which I sing when I do the dishes and which routinely makes me cry, is Tolkien's translation of an 8th century Saxon elegy?

Well, the notes at the end of the page confirmed it:

"Tolkien's rendition is hard to resist" I bet it is. I love that professional philologists add notes to their work saying "yeah, by the way, this bit here? It's in your favourite fantasy novel, and I am kinda jealous of how well it was translated, but it's Tolkien, the man spoke Old English, what can you do? Carry on, xoxo"

I mean, I had gathered that the Tolkien poem played on themes used in medieval literature, but I had no idea it was based on an actual, specific text. That makes it a hundred times cooler!

Maybe it's common knowledge, but it was a delicious tidbit of good news to me. Especially since I wasn't expecting it in the least, so I was blindsided by it.

Cherry on top? I had ignored the Old English text, since I don't understand it, but at the end I gave it a cursory read , and the line "Alas for the splendor of the prince"? "Eala þeodnes þrym!"

Now, I have never studied Old English, but I know roughly how to pronounce it (what kind of Silmarillion fan would I be if I didn’t recognize the thorn?). þeodnes has to be where "Theoden" comes from, right?

Apparently yes. I googled the "Lament for the Rohirrim", and Tolkien Gathaway has a nice little parapraph in which they explain all this. I don't know why I had never read it before, but it was a lot more fun learning it as an unexpected detour from my French practice, not gonna lie.

Bottom line: Tolkien was a both a nerd and a genius and continues to make my life brighter, and this is one of those moments in which I am very happy I have spent years of my life learning languages.

Thanks for coming to my impromptu TedTalk.

#tolkien #lotr #rohirrim #rohan #theoden #meta #lotr meta #I feel like a kid at christmas #lament for the rohirrim #poetry

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lydiimae · 1 month

Text

The stars, the moon

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

18+ MDI!

Warnings: Talk of drinking, sexist old ideas about women, talk of sex, Anthony being a cutie shhh, oral sex, penetrative sex, dirty talk, body worship (f receiving), heavy praise, lovemaking more than hardcore sex oopsies

A.N: YOU GUYS ARE SO SWEET TO ME ISTG T-T the love on my first two fics is so heartwarming. i'm so very glad you liked them both so much ^-^ Benny and Bridgerton as a whole are both so very important to me so i'm glad i did them both well. anyways my loves, this is an Anthony fic that i hope i can do as well as i did Ben. i was listening to Cosmic Love by Florence and The Machine and it gave me this idea! soooo here is an incredibly fluffy, (and smutty hehe) love filled Ant fic hehe<3 enjoy and thank you again <3 p.s that scene the gif is from sends my mind into a spiral CONSTANTLY my roman empire fr p.p.s I FINALLY GOT DIVIDERS, so now my fics will look a little cleaner i hope hehe >_<

Growing up next to the Bridgertons had been fun and eventful, to say the very least. You were there through every trial and tribulation their family had gone through, and them with yours.

You and your three sisters had always gotten along with the seven siblings. Being the youngest and most... rambunctious of them you had gotten along with Eloise and Benedict the most. They had views of marriage and duty that were similar to yours, and when you were younger you and Benedict would spend hours making doodles on the walls of the gardens at your estate.

Your sisters, who were much more of the traditional women you would often find in the ton, tended to be more akin to the eldest Bridgerton brother and sister. Daphne and Anthony, however kind and loving they both were, were always too strict or, in Daphne's case, too proper for your liking.

You had always thought of Anthony as the moon. He thrived in darkness and was often gone before you even noticed he was there. You never knew why he left balls early, or why you spotted him with that opera singer in the deepest corners of gardens or tucked away in libraries.

Until you grew up, that is. The first time you snuck out of the confines of your room was when you were ten and eight, right after the first ball of your first social season. Benedict had insisted on you sneaking out the window of your bedroom so you could tag along with him to a party a fellow artist was throwing, and you, out of pure curiosity, obliged.

You got there and had your first everything while Benedict was painting, or so he claimed, in another room. You kissed the lord, whose name you cannot remember to this day, and then you went beyond that. Sex. It was wonderful, you decided, and from then on you had much more of it.

Anthony was perceptive, he noticed the change in your behavior and one night even decided to ask Benedict about it. Benedict being Benedict told him everything in his usual carefree manner, not thinking twice about it. Anthony reacted quite strangely however, he just... turned on his heel and walked into his study, locking himself in for hours.

He avoided you at all costs from then on. It was strange, but then again, he was the moon. The moon cannot be out forever.

Anthony had always thought of you as the stars, a happy, mischievous young woman who thrived in the dark. You provided a light to every room you walked into that was too great for anyone to look away from. You were intricate, difficult to read and figure out, and yet you were also so intriguing that every man wanted to do just that.

You were also incredibly mischievous, he knew that from the moment you were born. Being eight years older, and a close family friend, Anthony was one of the first who got to meet you. You had always had that sparkle in your eye, like you were in on this grand plan that no one else was.

When you got older, it only got worse. You were constantly getting in trouble, whether that be drawing on your garden's brick walls with his brother or reading books about math or, fittingly, astronomy. Your father always described you as boyish, to which he would have to agree. You got into fencing when you were ten and two and immediately had a knack for it. When you were six and ten, you snuck off with Benedict and got taught how to hunt.

He was never attracted to your sisters as they were too... boring for his taste. They had interests in things like the latest fashion trends, or hairstyles, and he was sure that none of them had ever glanced at a book. It was quite comforting to know, that because of your foolish ways and thinking, he would never be attracted to you either. Or so he thought.

You were wearing a light blue dress when you entered your first ball, your arm tucked snugly with your father's. Your hair was pinned up more elegantly than he had ever seen it, a few of the still unruly, wavy strands fluttering in the breeze that your white fan made. Stunningly gorgeous in every way, and so ladylike. It was strange.

He had almost assured himself that he would never feel this way towards any woman like you, after all, his list of requirements for the next Viscountess was long and specific, to say the least. Yet there you were, walking towards his family, and he was very much sure he was attracted to you.

So when he noticed the jewelry you started using to hide the dark marks on your neck and the silly excuses you would use to leave balls early, it was worrying. He asked Benedict and his worst fears were made a reality, your innocence was gone. You were loose, in his mind. He could not, no would not, be attracted to a woman without her maidenhead. He refused.

The only way he could avoid that attraction was to avoid you at all costs, which is exactly what he did. He excused himself from every room you walked into, and every conversation. On the rare occasion that you somehow managed to worm yourself into a conversation with him, however, he gave short answers and cold glares.

His heart ached when he noticed your light dim after he left, but then again you were the stars. All stars have to burn out someday.

You found his insistence on completely avoiding you to be quite tiresome, after all, you considered him to be like a brother. An annoying, headstrong, arrogant, prick of a brother but a brother nonetheless.

You look over your shoulder to where he is talking to a young debutante, wishing that he would at least glance over. You would never admit it to yourself, but after his company waned you missed it quite a lot. You could talk to Benedict or Eloise, sure, but there was something about annoying Anthony that made your heart flutter and your cheeks flush.

"Miss L/N, are you listening?" The lord, who you were supposed to be listening to, asks. You quickly turn back to him and part your lips to make an excuse, but quickly think better of it. "No, my lord. I apologize, my mind seems to be running from me tonight." You mutter with a soft smile. He nods in turn before continuing to speak about his latest hunting trip, in which you have absolutely no interest.

You excuse yourself when he is done rambling and make your way toward the Viscount, wanting to finally know the real reason why he has made it his life's mission to avoid you. You wish, so desperately, to see the moon again.

He sees you coming and his heart tightens, you look as beautiful as always. You are wearing dark blue, a gorgeous dress he thinks, and your hair is done up just how he likes it. You have on gold jewelry, which sparkles in the low candlelight with every step you take.

He should talk to you, he really should, and yet he cannot bring himself to. You are not the kind of woman he wishes to make the next Viscountess, not even close to checking off any of the boxes he has on his long list for what a woman should be.

So, instead, he settles for leading the young woman he is speaking with to the dance floor. He passes you without a word but falters momentarily when he catches a whiff of your perfume. Your scent, even.

You had always smelled, however strange it might sound, so comforting. Your family's colors were a light purple, the crest having two bunches of lavender flowers on it. You smelled the part, always having some semblance of lavender to you that wafted through the room whenever you entered. It wasn't strong, no, but it was just enough to get his heart racing. It wasn't just lavender that made it so intoxicating, there was something else there. Something that he could only describe as just... you. He smiles to himself at the many fond memories that come with it.

He catches the young woman looking at him in confusion and quickly puts on a straight face, continuing to walk her to the dance floor, but not before noticing the look of despondency on your face. His heart aches, but it must be done. He could not let himself fall for you, no matter how much he longed to see the brightness of the stars again.

Your heart breaks when he walks past you with nothing but a faint semblance of a smile, and for whatever reason, you feel yourself tear up. You wonder if you had done something wrong, or said something in a passing conversation that had rubbed him the wrong way. Perhaps even entertained a man he had trouble with. Whatever it was, you did not like the unfamiliar feeling his avoidance brought.

Something that you had always hidden from everyone, including yourself, was your feelings. You felt no need to be a woman who expressed love openly, nor a woman who got teary at the slightest inconvenience. It is why you liked the parties you went to, sex and alcohol were wonderful to drown out feelings that you would rather not feel. Something else you had always hidden or shoved down, was your feelings for Anthony.

He was gorgeous, that much was obvious, what with his grey eyes and his thick brown hair. The things that you didn't like, such as his ignorant views of women, or his want to always be the best, were often drowned out by the fact that the man was extremely loving and protective of those he cared about. Not only that, but he was like you in that he was truly sensitive when he did not try and shove it down. He made you want to sing his praises from every balcony in London, to profess your love in front of all of the ton so everyone could see that he was yours.

You realize you have been standing in the same spot for what has to be at least five minutes now, and that a tear that had escaped in your reminiscing has now made it down your cheek. You quickly walk out to a balcony and lean on the railing, and for once, you allow yourself to cry.

He finds you after his dance with the incredibly boring debutante he decided to occupy himself with. He didn't want to find you, but his feet automatically found themselves to you. As if something deep inside him was naturally drawn to you and your stupid free-spirited nature.

He crowds around your back. "Is everything alright?" He whispers and is completely taken aback when he sees your face. You look up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks. It was surprising to say the very least as he cannot remember the last time he saw you cry. "My God, Y/N, what happened?" He asks, placing a hesitant hand on your shoulder.

"Why do you hate me?" You whisper back, and he is even more surprised than before. Hate? God he could never hate you, sure he avoided you, but he could never truly hate anything about you. No matter how much he tried.

He was just standing there like he had not been avoiding you for the past two months. Like he had not ignored your every attempt to speak with him, like he had not completely shattered your soul. It made you so angry that you could not stop the foolish words slipping past your lips.

"It is as if I have committed a cardinal sin, as if I am some heathen you cannot stand to be around and not a woman you grew up with." You say, taking a deep breath as heartbreak shifts to anger. "It is not fair. I have wracked every corner of my memory trying to figure out what I have done wrong and still, I turn up with nothing. I..." You falter and turn to look up at the stars. "You are so distant. I find myself aching without you, Anthony. Like a piece of my soul has broken off with your disappearance and is with you for eternity." You whisper, closing your eyes briefly before turning back to him.

"I ask you again, why do you hate me? What have I done?" You plead, searching his eyes for any semblance of his old self. His eyes widen in response and he takes one of your hands. "I do not hate you. God Y/N, how could I ever hate you?" He breathes and your heart flutters at the look in his eyes. As if you are the only woman on earth. He has returned back to you. The moon has risen again.

"I... I have tried to hate you, yes, but every time you are near something in me longs to touch you in ways that would make any lady blush. I hate that you make me feel this way, so foolishly in love that I can barely form a coherent thought, that the Viscount I am becomes but a memory, but I could never hate you." He confesses, bringing his hands to your waist.

Your eyes water as he continues. "You are a loose woman, or so I so foolishly tried to make myself believe. I ignorantly put that label upon you so I could have a reason to not profess from every rooftop in London how much I adore you and I can never forgive myself for it." He whispers, wiping the tears that have somehow escaped your eyes without your knowledge. "I will never be able to profess how sorry I am, but I can hope that in time you can forgive me for how foolish I have been." He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

"How long?" Is all you can manage to croak out in return to his beautiful confession, resting your hands atop his shoulders as your eyes flutter shut. "Since I was a young man, darling. Far too long I have kept it from you." He whispers back as your heart flutters at the title he has given you. "I have loved you since I was a girl." You whisper back. "So I suppose we are both fools." You grin.

He chuckles at that, his hands rubbing small patterns into the small of your back. "Always the witty one, hm? You are truly as bright and as mischievous as the stars, my love." Your heart hammers in the stars, at the way he calls you his love but even more than that, he thinks you to be the stars. "You and I have similar minds, Ant. I always thought you were like the moon, so serious and so attuned to darkness. Yet, so beautiful." You confess, opening your eyes to look into his own. Your cheeks flush at the sight that lies before you.

He is grinning, as if you had just given him the world. He leans in and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, to which you eagerly return as your eyes close and one of your gloved hands cups his cheeks. He pulls away after a moment. "The moon is nothing without the stars." He whispers, and you smile softly. "I shall ask your father for your hand come tomorrow if you let me." He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your brow.

Your heart flutters and you cup his cheeks. "I would love nothing more than to marry you, Anthony Bridgerton." You whisper and he grins, pressing his lips to yours once more. This kiss is more intense than the first, more confident as he knows that you are now officially his. You wish for nothing more than to melt into him, become his both body and mind for the rest of your days. The thought sends shivers down your spine, making your core heat up at the thought of finally sharing your most intimate self with the man who has plagued your thoughts for years.

As if reading your mind he pulls back, but only just. "Might I invite you back to my bedroom, my star?" He whispers, dipping his head down to press a kiss to your neck. You let out a shaky breath at the feeling and nod eagerly. "Please do." You whisper back and he grins, straightening back up and grabbing your hand before pulling you out to where the carriages are. Not before muttering something to Benedict, who smirks playfully and winks at the two of you in return.

One carriage ride full of open-mouthed kisses and love marks later and you are getting lifted out of the carriage and carried into the Bridgerton estate. You had so many fond memories here, you are elated that you would have the privilege of raising a family in the big estate. The thought of a family with Anthony makes your chest feel tight with emotion and you bury your face in the crook of his neck to calm yourself.

He notices the change of emotion as he carries you through the front door, ignoring the many questioning glances the both of you receive from the servants who still linger in the hallways, and kisses the top of your head. "What is it, darling?" He murmurs in your ear as he walks up the stairs, toward his bedroom.

"I am only being sensitive as I envision our future that I have for so long ached for." You whisper back, pressing a kiss to his neck to assure him that nothing is truly wrong. He groans a bit and smiles down at you as he ducks into his bedroom and places you on the bed. "It shall be a grand one. One filled with happiness and light, I assure you." He hums as he locks the door before climbing over you and peppering your face with kisses, which makes you giggle softly.

He moves his hands to your hair, taking out all of the intricately placed pins so he can see it in the state he loves the most, untamed and unruly, just like you. He runs his hands through your hair once he has it down, pressing kisses down your neck and to your collarbone which he bites. You whine softly at the feeling, but more so at the fact that you know he is going to leave marks. The thought of parading around a ball with his lovebites on your skin makes your cunt dampen and your thighs rub together in an attempt to relieve the ache that settles in your core.

He feels the movements of your body below him and groans as your knee brushes against his clothed cock accidentally, making him harden further than he already has. He continues to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck as his hands move under you. He pulls you up to a sitting position and presses his lips to yours, reveling in the soft noises he draws from you as his hands move to your back to work on the buttons that hold your dress up.

His tongue slides into your mouth and he lets out a groan as he exposes your bare back, the choice you made to forgo any undergarments becoming the smartest one you made all day. He makes quick work of your dress, parting from your lips as he throws it across the room. "Christ." He growls when he sits back and gazes at your naked body.

Your nipples are peaked from both the cold air of the room and the arousal caused by the way he is gazing down at you. The look of pure desire in his eyes makes you flood down your thighs, which he picks up on instantly. He grins, almost a cocky grin, before removing his clothes from the upper half of his body.

He bends down when he is bare-chested and kisses from your collarbone, down to your right breast. He sucks on the soft skin just to the side of your hardened nipple, making your hips cant up and into his, a whine escaping your lips. He chuckles deeply and moves a hand to yours, so you can have something to hang onto, the other moving to hold your hip down.

He pulls up briefly and rests his chin on your chest, gazing up at you adoringly. "You are perfect, Y/N. Every mark, every blemish, every imperfection is so gorgeous. So perfect for me." He murmurs and you flush, squeezing his hand in yours as a silent thank you as you are unsure if you could even form a sentence now. "Mine." He murmurs with a soft smile before returning his attention to your breasts.

He takes your nipple into his mouth and you cry out at the feeling of his tongue swirling around the bud. You squeeze his hand and your back arches up into him, making him groan. He pushes you back down, all while his mouth sucks and swirls at your sensitive nipple, and rubs soothing circles on your hip with his thumb.

After a moment, he moves to your other breast, giving that one just as much attention. You whine as he bites down softly before pulling up and beginning to mark each of your breasts. He lets go of your hip and smears his hand down your thigh, gently parting your legs as he kisses down your stomach.

You gasp as he gives a kiss to your naval and look down just as he flashes a cheeky grin. He continues his trail of kisses right down to your patch of hair, your free hand grasping at the sheets while the other squeezes his. You cry out when he licks a stripe up your slit, his tongue pressing onto your swollen clit.

He takes the sensitive bud into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it slowly, his hand moving back to your hips when you whine and try to grind against him. You roll your head back, pressing it into the pillow. You get a whiff of his scent and it sends a zing of pleasure to your abused clit just as he moves his mouth down to your swollen hole to drink from you like a man starved.

You moan into his pillow, taking the fabric into your mouth and sucking as pleasure ripples through your entire body. He moves his mouth back to your clit as he pushes one of his fingers into your body, groaning at how tight you are. You cry out, the sound still muffled by his pillow, at the feeling of his finger and the vibrations his noises send through your body.

He adds another finger and begins to curl them into your walls, hitting that spongey spot that makes you scream. Your toes curl as he pumps his fingers in and out of your body in tune with the swirling of his tongue against your clit. You finally take your face out of his pillow. "Close... Fuck please please please, Anthony." You babble as you begin to see stars. You come screaming his name, his fingers gripping your hip so hard you're sure you will be marked there too.

He cleans you up with his tongue before returning to your lips and giving you a swift, but sweet, kiss on your lips. He sits up and slowly rids himself of his trousers, his cock standing proud against his stomach. The sight makes you mewl and spread your legs even wider in anticipation of him filling you until his tip meets your womb.

He settles between your legs and takes both of your hands in his, pressing his forehead to yours. "I love you, Y/N." He murmurs. "I love you, Anthony." You return, and his lips are on yours. He slowly pushes his cock into your body, groaning into your mouth as you moan into his. He bottoms out and lets you adjust, kissing down your neck to your shoulder.

You gently push your hips down as a signal that he can move, and he grins against your skin. He begins to slowly rock in and out of your body, groaning at the noises he draws from your cunt. "Faster, Ant. Please." You gust into his hair, squeezing his hands tight in your own.

He does not need to be told twice. He begins to slam into your body, making your toes curl as you scream out. He continues his brutal pace, the sound of body meeting body filling the bedroom. He presses his forehead to yours just as your eyes shut. "Look at me." He whispers, stalling for a moment. "I want to see how good I make you feel. I've waited far too long for you to hide, my love." He breathes, and you open your eyes.

He gives that stupid arrogant smirk before beginning to thrust into you just as hard as before as if he never stopped. Your mouth hangs ajar, your mind too focused on the feeling of his cock to even try and stop the moans that flow freely from your mouth.

He moves a hand down your stomach, his thumb finding your clit and circling to the rhythm of his thrusts. He growls when you clench around his length and moan his name. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck. "Come with me." He whispers, biting down on the skin.

The action sends you over the edge. You come for the second time, screaming his name and he follows soon after, painting your insides with his seed. He works you through your orgasm before pulling out and nuzzling your neck.

After a moment he climbs off of you and saunters to his bathroom, leaving you dazed on the bed. You turn your head and press your face into his pillow once more, letting his scent calm you down. He returns a moment later and laughs warmly at the sight. You blush at the noise and look up at him. "Funny that," He says, gesturing to his pillow as he cleans your thighs with the washcloth he brought out. "I did the same thing today." He grins.

"Mmm. When was that, hm? Did you sneak into my bedroom?" You tease and he grins, shaking his head as he places the washcloth on the bedside and crawls into bed. "No, though I am flattered you would think I would be so bold." He hums, pulling you under the covers with him and taking you into his arms.

You smile softly and bury your face into his neck, closing your eyes. "I did it when I walked past you at the ball. The young woman I was talking to thought I went mad. I had to stop and think of all of the fond memories I have of you." He murmurs as he rests his head atop yours, kissing it softly before closing his eyes as well.

You smile softly at the thought of him stopping mid-step just to think of you. It warms your soul. "I love you." You whisper, slowly nodding off to the sound of his heartbeat.

"And I love you, my star." He whispers before following you into a deep slumber.

The moon truly cannot thrive without the stars.

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thef1diary · 1 month

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Little Big Fan | Twelve

— Little Big Relationships

Series Masterlist

wc: 2.1k

"Max? Isabella?" You called out as you entered your home, hearing nothing but silence in return.

As you continued walking inside, you heard some giggles coming from Isabella's room that were muffled because the door was closed.

Knocking once, you opened the door and were faced with an intriguing scene. They were sitting on a kiddy table, which was the perfect size for Isabella but too little for Max; however, he compromised by sitting half on the chair and half kneeling on the floor.

"Hold it like this, Maxy, your pinky has to point out," Isabella instructed while demonstrating it herself. You slapped your palm over your mouth to muffle a chuckle when you noticed the little teacups in their hands as Isabella attempted to teach Max how to act at a tea party.

"C'mon Maxy, stick your pinky out," you joked, instantly catching their attention. Isabella beamed at you, "mama, look," she gestured to the little setup they had going on. Max, however, froze in place but after a moment a small smile grew on his face as he purposely pointed his pinky outwards with an exaggerated motion.

"Join us, mama," Isabella suggested or more so instructed. You obliged, pulling the little chair closer to your daughter and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before taking the teacup she held out for you.

"Did you know that Maxy has two cats, mama?" Isabella asked, a glimmer shining in her eyes at her words. Your daughter had always wanted a cat, but because the responsibility would be too much for her, you always refused or advised her to at least wait until she was older.

Nodding along, you looked at Max who had showed you many pictures of Jimmy and Sassy. "Yeah, when we go over to Max's house, we can see them okay?" You proposed, and Isabella glanced at Max for an answer, to which he replied, "Of course!"

While Isabella poured more pretend tea in your cup, your gaze met Max's, filled with a tad bit of vulnerability that neither of you no longer feared to share.

Max has spent the majority of his time in Monaco, or at least he used to, because he has been spending more time with you and Isabella in your home that he would normally spend in his apartment across the world. He'd rather have you than an empty apartment with no hesitation. But lately, he's been picturing his apartment filled with the sounds of your daughter's laughter as the three of you make a mess in the kitchen while attempting to bake.

He wasn't opposed to it at all, and a part of him knew that you would love the suggestion as well. However, your relationship with him is kept under wraps, with the only person you've told is your best friend. You don't necessarily want to keep it a secret, but the reason you are is quite obvious; your daughter.

Although Isabella has suspicions of Max's involvement in your day to day lives, she hasn't openly questioned it yet. The reality is, you don't know how to tell her you're in a relationship with Max since you're not sure how she'll react. A part of you believes it will elicit a positive response, but another half wonders if she would object to it.

You pushed your thoughts away to the back of your mind once Max broke eye contact with you since your daughter nudged him. Gesturing for him to come closer, Isabella whispered in his ear and you watched with a slight tilt of your head and a smile threatening to grow on your face.

Max nodded to her words, and Isabella looked at you with a smile she only uses when she wants something. "Mama?" she started.

"Yes, angel?" She glanced at Max for reassurance and when he nodded again, she spoke, "can Maxy stay over?"

You were taken aback by her words, especially with the thoughts that were running through your mind. "You mean a sleepover?"

Isabella nodded, "yes! We'll have so much fun, mama. We can play games, eat snacks, oh and I want Maxy to read my bedtime story to me too." You smiled as she listed out everything she wanted to do, knowing that she had already planned it earlier so it would be easier to convince you. However, she had no idea that you weren't opposed to the idea at all and needed no such convincing.

She looked at you with anticipation, her smile only growing wider when you nodded. "We can have a sleepover with Max."

She cheered, throwing her arms up and then wrapping them around Max. "Oh wait, I forgot something," she left the room in a hurry, leaving you and Max in confusion.

Max took that opportunity to lean over the table and press a kiss to your cheek. You threaded your fingers through his hair, resting it on the back of his head to pull him in for a proper kiss.

"How did it go?" He asked once he leaned back into the chair, almost falling backwards due to his weight. "I think I made a friend."

After your nap with Max yesterday, you awoke to a text from Emma asking if you wanted to meet for coffee. You decided to go after discussing with Max regarding the pros and cons of what could happen. The only drawback was that Emma was Tyler's girlfriend; otherwise, you wouldn't have any doubts about meeting her.

However, your decision to go meant you would have to leave Isabella in Max's care for a few hours. The only issue you faced was that if you didn't want your ex's partner to babysit your daughter, you shouldn't let your own boyfriend babysit Isabella either. It would be unfair to both of them.

Max, being Max, went right to Isabella and asked if she was comfortable with staying with him for a few hours, which she easily agreed to. He then gave you a smile that only meant one thing, "problem solved."

—

"The last time we met wasn't under the right circumstances, so I figured we should redo it," Emma stated as you sat down with your coffee at one of the few empty tables amid the many occupied ones.

"I agree. Also, I don't think I'll be able to thank you enough for what you did for my daughter that night." Emma shook her head, "no worries, I would do it all over again in a heartbeat," she said before adding, "not that I want her to have another allergic reaction."

The initial awkwardness of this friendly meeting stemmed from the individual who was the reason for the introduction between you two. However, the conversation evolved significantly after that.

"Oh, I have to ask, that guy you with at the hospital, are you dating him?" Emma asked, and you nodded. "We actually weren't dating then, but we are now."

She nodded along and just smiled while looking at you. Tilting your head, you asked, "why?"

"Nothing, it's just that it looked like you were together then, based on his actions and how worried he was for both you and Isabella," she explained, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks. Max was always kind to you from the minute you met him, but learning that someone else had observed your relationship was slightly surprising.

"It's still new, I guess we're just figuring it out as we go, especially with Isabella around," you admitted openly, seeing no reason to hold back from her. You were cautious about Emma before seeing her today, but you realized there was no reason to be. She would easily become a good friend, and the fact that you knew her through Tyler would no longer matter.

"She doesn't know?" Emma inquired and hummed when you shook your head. "I don't mean to intrude, but how did you and Tyler tell her?" You asked, wanting some pointers on what to do, or even what you shouldn't do.

She scoffs, "it was probably the worst way ever, just casually dropping it in a conversation, good riddance though."

You had to hold back from wincing however you don't think you did a good job based on her reaction. "Yeah, it was odd, don't do that."

"Good riddance?" You asked, unsure of what she meant. "I broke up with him," she stated bluntly, taking you aback. "Oh." For a moment you were speechless, mainly to gauge Emma's reaction on the situation before you decide on saying anything.

She sighed, "you don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing, it was a long time coming."

You wanted to know more details, not because he was your ex and now hers too, but because Emma was now a friend. Without having to utter a word, she began to explain the reason.

"I was skeptical about dating him at first when he told me about Isabella, because I initially thought that his time and attention would be split between us," she started, and you nodded along.

"But, I didn't think that he wouldn't give either of us any time at all. He wasn't always like that, I wouldn't have fallen for him otherwise but he became too consumed in work."

"Arguments were inevitable, but I didn't think it would happen that often. Sometimes I would find Isabella sitting in her room with her eyes closed and hands covering her ears because of his words. That's when I realized that he wasn't worth my love and time, or even his daughter's," she finished and your heart hurt with the image of how Isabella used to spend so many of her days and nights at Tyler's house.

"I hope Isabella doesn't stay over at his anymore," Emma stated, but you quickly shook your head. "No, she hasn't stayed over after the allergy incident, plus she's said it herself that she doesn't want to anymore."

"Anyways, he is your ex for a reason and now he's also my ex, so here's to finding better men who are worth our time," Emma proposed, holding up her half empty coffee cup as if it were an alcoholic drink and you chuckled while agreeing with her.

"I think I already found mine," you shyly admitted. "And I am very happy for you!"

"I just don't know how to tell Bella about it," you stated, and she held up a finger to tell you to hold on as she quickly sipped on her drink. "Does he come around often?" Emma asked.

“Very often,” you chuckled. “And does she like having him around?” You thought about it for a second, recalling the latest moments you've shared together. "She does get very excited about it, never complained about having him around."

"Then you have nothing to worry about, as long as you sit down and explain it to her, I think she'll be fine. After all, she is your daughter, very kind and understanding," Emma concluded.

—

“So you want to tell Isabella?” Max asked after you gave him a summary of your conversations with Emma. You shrugged, “what do you think?”

“I’m okay with anything you choose to do, baby, we can wait or we can tell her now,” he stated. “I don’t want her to find out from someone else, especially since we’re going to the next race,” you reasoned.

Max’s eyes lit up, “you’re coming?” Chuckling, you nodded, “my boyfriend’s racing, I think I should be there to support him.”

Max didn’t hesitate to scoot his chair over towards you, “plus, there’s a chance that I might win my third championship at that race,” he added. Your jaw dropped, “what? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Well, I didn’t want it to pressure you into travelling if you didn’t want to but I’m very glad you’re going to be there with me,” he pressed a quick kiss against your lips. “Max, have I told you how sweet you are?”

He hummed, “I think I can hear it again.”

Before you could utter a word, Isabella entered the room again, this time with a frown on her face. Max leaned away from you, trying to subtly move back.

“Angel, where did you go?” You asked, and invited her to sit in your lap which she easily agreed to.

“I went to find my teddy, but I think I left it at daddy’s,” she meekly responded. “Aw, it’s okay, we’ll get him back soon,” you suggested while brushing her hair out of her face with your fingers.

“But Mr. Bear will miss my tea party, mama, and he never missed it before,” she stressed. “We can host as many tea parties as you want when we find him,” Max suggested.

Isabella still had a frown on her face but she agreed with a small nod.

You glanced at Max, and with his reassurance, you began an important conversation with your daughter that could possibly change the trajectory of your relationship with Max.

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#f1 fic #f1 fanfic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #little big fan fic #f1 fluff #f1 imagines #f1 x reader

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dreamescapeswriting · 2 months

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Dancing In The Shadows ~ LF [MATURE WARNING]

CONTINUATION OF THIS PIECE

WORD COUNT: 5.4K

GENRE: mafia AU, hacker reader, felix technically kidnapping her, insta love (sorry but its fun to write hehe) enemies to lovers? Cute, fluffy, SMUT MINORS DNI, protected sex, public sex (kinda) links into the other stories too ehe

PAIRING: Felix X Fem!Reader

⤜MASTERLIST

Felix sat behind his imposing mahogany desk, his eyes fixed on you as you stood before him, pulling on the sleeves of your hoodie nervously as you waited for him to say something. You were the reason for his recent financial troubles...well, not really, Felix had more money than he knew what to do with but you'd been the one with the balls big enough to steal from him. The one who had infiltrated his bank accounts with such skill and finesse that even Felix had to admire your audacity. Felix wasn't stupid though, he'd done his research before he'd "hired" you, taking you from your boss with the impression he'd bring you back but it simply wasn't true.

Once he had you he simply wasn't going to just throw you back, you were a once in a lifetime catch and he wasn't dumb enough to drop that. In the hacking world, you were simply known as Firecracker. No one knew who you were by physical appearance but the jobs you would do told people what they needed to know.

You stole from the rich to give to the poor, a real modern-day Robin Hood. If Felix wasn't so rich he would have been pissed off at you for trying it on him.

"You've got guts, I'll give you that," He finally spoke, his gravelly voice breaking the silence and making butterflies flutter inside of you, you hated them for it. Ever since he'd taken you from work you couldn't stop the tingles in your back or the butterflies whenever he'd touch you or speak to you.

"Hacking into my accounts takes some serious skills. I should be mad, but I'm impressed." All things he'd already told you in the office but was going back over on his own, leaning forward he studied you closely. He wanted to know more about the elusive Firecracker that no law enforcement or underworld man had been able to catch.

"So, what? You're going to kill me now?" You'd seen the man standing outside of his office with guns, he might have promised you a job when you were at work but who was to say it wasn't just some ploy to get you to go with him.

"I gave you my word. I take that seriously," Felix said as he leaned back in his chair, a sly grin playing on his lips as he watched you. While you were faking confidence he could see the nerves seeping out of you and it impressed him more than he would have liked to admit.

"I want you to work for me," He declared, you arched an eyebrow at him.

"You've proven yourself to be quite the asset, and I could use someone with your talents, you already stated my computer security sucks...So fix it." He turned his desktop computer around and you blinked at the screen before turning back to face the man who was watching you closely.

"And if I refuse?" It wasn't like you had much of a choice but you wanted to know the repurcations.

"Then I'll have to resort to less pleasant methods of persuasion. But trust me, you'll find it much more lucrative to be on my payroll." Kissing your teeth a little you looked back at the computer. Despite your better judgment, you found yourself intrigued by the offer. You'd never worked for anyone but yourself in the security way before, but the idea of being affiliated with one of the most powerful crime families in the city was undeniably tempting.

"I have conditions." You weren't dumb, you were going to do this with rules in place. You'd seen enough movies and read enough articles about the underworld that you had to be prepared.

"I would be surprised if you didn't." A slight smirk played on his lips as he watched you scramble to think of something but he couldn't help but think about how beautiful you were, how cute he found it whenever you'd play with the sleeves of your shirt.

"I want full access to your network. I need to know everything about your system if I'm meant to be fixing it." He nodded at you, it was his full intention to give you anything you asked for. Hell, he'd give you a house and a more stable job if that was something you wanted from him.

"Okay. What else?" He got out a notepad, ready to write down a list of everything you wanted but you just stared at him,

"Lastly. Once I've fixed it, I'm out. No strings attached." The pen in his hand stilled as he stared down at the notepad, it had never occurred to him that you would want to leave but he nodded,

"Fine. But I have a feeling you'll want to stick around." He tried to make it seem as though he was joking but you shook your head.

"Nothing will make me stay, Mr Lee." You sounded so sure of yourself and maybe you were but now that Felix had you there was no way he was going to let you go so easily.

"Hmm. We'll see." He mumbled, getting up and readying his office for you to use.

With determination and skill, you set to work. You fortified Felix's digital defences, erecting layers of encryption and implementing state-of-the-art security protocols. It was insane how poor his security was for someone who was supposed to be the best of the best. You thought you would have been working alone but Felix watched you work the whole time. You spent every night in your own room in his huge house, the two of you would eat meals together giving you time to get to know each other which was something you were feeling unsure about.

The more time you spent with him the more you wanted to leave, growing attached to someone was never an option for you and getting attached to a criminal? Never.

But Felix found himself falling for you and hard, every day you'd work he would watch you with a mixture of fascination and admiration, impressed by your intellect and resourcefulness.

But as the days turned into weeks and your job neared completion, Felix found himself growing reluctant to let you go. He had his men ruin some of your work so that you'd stay around longer but it was getting harder and harder to do that with how good your work was. He had grown accustomed to your presence, your sharp wit and unwavering confidence a welcome distraction from the monotony of his daily life.

You pushed your chair away from his desk, smirking to yourself. You were unbelievably proud of how well you'd done your job, despite the obstacles that had been thrown in the way.

"I've fixed your security systems, Lix," You announced, Felix's smile dropped from his lips as he stared back at you. He knew this time would be coming but he thought he would have more time than this.

"It's time for me to move on." You stretched in the chair, your heart breaking at the thought of leaving him but you weren't going to listen to it. Felix's heart sank at the thought of losing you.

"I- I still need your help," He stuttered a little, he hated that he was stuttering but you were the one person who turned him into a nervous wreck with just one look.

"I fixed everything Lix, everything is unbreakable." You weren't going to allow yourself to stay any longer, you'd already felt yourself falling and you wanted to stop it in your tracks.

"Firecracker...Come on, you're the best of the best. I need you around," He sounded desperate but he honestly didn't care, he didn't want you to leave. Not when he was so close to you now. As soon as you were gone he'd be alone and the thought of that terrified him.

"You'll find someone who's just as good." You shrugged, you knew people who could replace you and if he really wanted you could get him their names.

"I can't let you go." He said simply as the door to his office opened,

"You promised." Your voice was strained as you realised what he was going to do.

"I'm sorry."

"You said you kept your word!" You screamed as two of his men stood at the door, holding their guns another led you to the room you'd been staying in.

"I hate you!" You screamed at the door, Felix' stared down at the floor. He knew he could get you to like him, he just needed a little more time with you.

You were trapped, despite your skills, you'd been no match for Felix and his powerful organization. Reluctantly, you resigned yourself to your fate, knowing that you were at Felix's mercy.

It had been a few weeks since Felix had taken you in, every day you were forced to spend meal times with him. You hated him but at the same time, your heart was still falling for him, despite him taking you hostage.

"Yn, you have to speak to me eventually," Felix stated as he watched you walk away from him. You'd spent most of the meals in silence, with Felix taking the conversations and talking about his day mostly.

"Why? You want me to be some trophy in your grasp, trophies don't speak." You mumbled. It was the first time he'd heard you speak in weeks and even though it was a mumble it was music to Felix's ears. In the dimly lit confines of the home, tension hung heavy in the air as you turned on your heels to face him.

On one hand, you hated him for taking you but on another, he had taken you away from everything you hated about the real world. You were given the freedom to explore - with an armed guard by your side. You had no bills to pay, no responsibilities, it was nice...It would have been nicer if it hadn't been against your will.

"Yn, you have to understand," He pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation as he tried to justify his actions as if that was even possible.

"I didn't take you hostage because I wanted to. I did it because... because I couldn't bear the thought of losing you." You scoffed a little, your eyes flashing with anger as you met his gaze, your fists clenched at your sides. He was unbelievable.

"That doesn't excuse what you did," You retorted, your voice sharp with reproach.

"You can't just kidnap someone and expect them to forgive you because you're afraid of being alone." You grumbled at him, folding your arms across your chest, you weren't just going to forgive him for kidnapping you just because he gave you some piss-poor excuse.

Felix winced at your words, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. He knew that he had crossed a line, and had violated the trust of the one person he cared about more than anything else in the world. Even though he'd barely known you, part of him knew the two of you were meant to be together and he wanted it to work more than anything.

But if he'd let you leave when you were supposed to, he never would have seen you again and this had been the only logical part his brain could come up with.

"I know I messed up," He admitted, his voice thick with remorse, it was now or never to make it up to you.

"And I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I swear. But please, just give me a chance to prove that my feelings for you are real, that I'm not just some monster trying to control your life." Your anger softened slightly at his words, your heart aching with the weight of his confession.

"I love you...I have a shitty way of showing it but I do." You blinked at him. Love? He barely knew you.

"Your idea of loving me is to kidnap me and force me to stay against my will?" A pang of guilt shot through his chest as he stared at you.

"I'm sorry, Yn, I know I messed up and I'll do whatever it takes to make it right, but please...Just...Just give me a chance to prove to you my feelings are genuine." You wanted to believe him more than anything in the world but it was hard when everyone in your life had used love as a weapon.

"I want to believe you, Felix," You whispered, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

"But you have to understand that trust isn't something you can just demand from someone. It has to be earned, and right now, I'm not sure if I can ever trust you." Felix's heart sank at your words, the realization of his mistakes hitting him like a freight train.

"I'll do whatever it takes," he promised, his voice trembling a little, he was willing to do anything to get you to agree to be his.

"I'll make things right, I swear. Just please... please don't give up on me." You stared at him, biting the inside of your cheek as you thought about it.

"I'll have conditions." If you were going to give this a real chance then you were going to do it with your own conditions and speculations.

"Anything." He breathed out, relief sounding in his voice as you finally agreed to him.

"I want to go out more. Alone." You stated plainly, that all you wanted was time alone. Time to go out without someone watching your every move.

"Anything but that." He bit off a little, his tone unsure of what to make of that. What if you ran? What if you found a way out and never came back?

"You said you want me to trust you but you won't trust me," You snapped at him angrily, the anger bubbling over and finally spilling.

"Yn-"

"That's the only thing I want. Time alone." He sighed a little and rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking back to you before nodding.

"Fine. You'll come back?" You knew running would be useless but part of you didn't even want to run.

"I promise." You whispered as he watched you, his eyes narrowing a little as if he were trying to figure out if you were lying or not.

"There's a ball coming up. A charity one, you can go shopping for a gown and accessories." He told you,

"I don't have money," With that, he handed you a black car with a smile on his lips.

"Buy yourself something nice," You stared down at the black card. Oh, you were planning on buying something nice, but it wasn't just going to be one thing.

You found yourself decked out in silk and diamonds, courtesy of Felix's card that you'd kept on you ever since you'd gotten back from your little trip. Felix carefully walked you through the grand hall and smiled as he looked around, the event was in full swing as people began to mingle with one another. But you were the only person Felix wanted to spend all night talking to. Felix escorted you through the grand ballroom, all of these things had become to the same for him over the years but he would always make sure he came to them to donate a wealthy sum before leaving.

Only tonight, he wanted to stay. He wanted to take you out on the dance floor and show you off in the stunning dress you'd worn and let everyone know that you were his.

"This place is so beautiful." You gasped out, you couldn't believe your eyes. The opulent chandeliers cast a soft glow all over the room, soft music played through the hall and people chatted among themselves.

"You look beautiful," He whispered in your ear, smiling to himself as he looked at you. Ever since you'd walked down to him that night he hadn't been able to keep his eyes off you, not that he ever did before. Your attention slowly turned to Felix who was dressed in a tailored suit, looking as handsome as ever.

"You look handsome," You whispered, part of you wanted to hate him for keeping you hostage but after almost maxing out his card - or so you'd hoped - you were starting to feel a lot better about everything.

Felix began to navigate through the crowds of people and the more you walked the more out of place you began to feel. All of the people in attendance were wealthy and powerful people, you were a hacker who had a chance incounter with a man worth more than you could possibly think about. The further you walked the more aware you were of the curious glances and whispered rumours that were being passed around. Felix didn't even seem fazed by them as he reached for a tray of champagne and handed one of them to you.

"To a wonderful night," He cheered to you, both of you drinking from your glasses until his phone started to ring inside of his pocket, smiling weakly he pulled it out.

"Hello...Yes, this is he," He mumbled into the phone before turning to look at you, and you smirked already knowing what the phone call was about.

"200K...Hmm," He hummed as he stared at you, he had to admit he was a little impressed with how much you'd managed to spend on the card he gave to you.

"No, not to worry. That wasn't fraud, just my future wife throwing a tantrum. Alright, thank you."

"Future wife?" You giggled a little as he licked his lips slowly and shook his head at you,

"200K? What did you even buy?"

"A whole computer system, a whole new wardrobe and some diamonds." You showed him the earrings you were wearing and he couldn't help but laugh to himself.

"You didn't give me a spending limit," You shrugged it off, you expected him to get mad but Felix was quite impressed. He never thought you'd be able to spend that much in one day.

"For you? There's never a limit baby," He smirked before kissing your lips softly. For a fleeting moment, you forgot about the dangers that lurked outside the ballroom walls, or that you'd been taken hostage by Felix. You just allowed yourself to feel happy, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and kissing him back deeper this time.

Tonight, you weren't just some hacker girl that Felix had brought along to the ball to play Cinderella for the night and you weren't his captive. You were simply a woman lost in the enchantment of the moment, captivated by the enigmatic man at your side.

As you slowly pulled away from one another there was something different in Felix's eyes,

"What's wrong?" You were almost scared your kiss had been bad but he shook his head at you, hesitating for a moment as he thought about what he could say to you. He wanted to let you go, to let you leave the home if that was what you truly wanted but part of him was scared you'd never come back. Taking in a deep breath he reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he cupped your cheek,

"Yn, there's something I need to tell you." Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at him, waiting for him to say something but your heart raced faster with anticipation.

"What is it?" Your voice barely came out above a whisper as you stared at him. With a sigh, Felix searched your eyes, his gaze intense and unwavering.

"I know that our relationship began under... unconventional circumstances," he admitted, making you smirk a little.

"But as I've come to know you, I've realized that you are so much more than just a skilled hacker. You're intelligent, brave, and fiercely independent—a woman unlike any other I've ever met." He had no idea where he was going with this, it wasn't something he'd rehearsed. But your heart was fluttering at his words, your chest swelling with warmth you'd never felt before.

"And...I find myself, drawn to you in ways I can't quite explain." Your hand slowly moved to cup his cheek and you felt how hot he was getting,

"You've become an integral part of my life. And I don't want to imagine a world without you in it."

"Felix..."

"I know I technically held you captive so...I understand if you don't want to stay with me but I needed to let you know my feelings are true." He looked at you, swallowing a lump the size of a boulder in his throat,

"But I'm going to let you go. You can leave the house, you can move out."

"Lix," You whispered, your voice trembling with emotion as you stared at him. His confession washed over you as you watched him closely, you felt the same way for him and hearing him say he was willing to let you go made you only want to stay.

"I feel the same way, I-I never wanted to...I always thought love was just a weapon but you..." You didn't even know where to start with him.

"You care for me more than I ever thought possible." You whispered to him before Felix' blushed,

"Dance with me?" You added before he nodded, taking your hand in his.

As you swayed in each other's arms, the world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only the gentle embrace of the music and the warmth of your shared connection. Your head was rested against Felix's chest, your heart racing with a mixture of nerves and excitement. Despite the lavish surroundings and the curious glances of the other guests, you felt safe and protected in his arms, as if nothing else mattered but the two of you at that moment.

Felix held you close, his touch gentle yet possessive as you moved together in perfect harmony around the floor. With each step, he felt the weight of his past sins and regrets fall away, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment that he had never known before.

"Lix," You breathed out as you stared up at him, your eyes sparking a little as he stared down at you. In a moment of unspoken understanding, your dance slowed, your movements becoming more intimate as you gazed into each other's eyes. The soft melody continued to play, wrapping around you like a cocoon as you drew closer, your breaths mingling in the air.

With a gentle touch, he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin as he leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from yours. your heart raced in anticipation, your eyes fluttering closed as you surrendered to the inevitable. You'd kissed before but now there felt a sudden pressure for this one.

Your lips met in a tender, electrifying kiss—a silent declaration of the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourselves in each other, the world around them fading completely as you shared a moment of pure, uncontrolled passion.

"Follow me," You breathed out, grabbing his hand in yours as you made your way through the crowds, ignoring the people who were staring and mumbling. Right now you needed Felix and you didn't have time for pleasantries as you made your way through the hall.

"Here?" He chuckles as he lifts you up onto the countertop of the bathroom you'd just dragged him inside of, your heart racing as you watch him closely.

"What if someone comes in?" He arches a brow at you before you drag him closer to you by his tie. He knew no one would come in, his men had followed him to the door and were no doubt waiting outside refusing anyone entry if they tried.

"Then they'll see we're busy and leave." You grumbled before kissing him, this time the kiss was deeper and more intense as you pushed off the blazer he was wearing onto the floor and worked on the buttons of his shirt.

"Someone's very needy." He chuckles to himself as you glare at him, you weren't in the mood for any games, you needed him and you weren't afraid to show it.

"Shut up and do something about it then,"

"Gladly." He groans, his hands rolling up your dress until he exposes your bare core and he smirks to himself,

"No panties?" He arched his brow at you and you giggled spreading your legs for him to get a better view. His eyes run down your body, his tongue darting out to wet his lip.

"You're so fucking beautiful," He groans, his hands drifting to your thighs, his knuckles catching on the edge of your pussy making you whimper.

"You take my breath away," He tells you breathlessly,

"Prove it." You demand, spreading your legs, his eyes drop to your pussy and he groans instantly falling to his knees. You were the only woman he would ever drop to his knees for like this. Having the great Lee Felix on his knees for you sent a power trip through you like no other. You grab his head as he trails his tongue along your slit making you whimper a little at him,

"Please." You plead with him, your hips bucking a little toward him as he chuckles softly sending vibrations all over your body. His tongue touches your clit, circling it, then tracing it down your centre and dipping inside of you, lapping you up hungrily. Your hands tighten in his hair, pushing his face closer to you as you grind against his tongue. Your eyes fluttered shut as your head rolled back against the mirror behind you.

"D-Dear God, Lix, please." You moan out as he removes his tongue, licking his head to look at you as he licks his lips.

"You taste like paradise," He groans before dropping his head and eating you out like a man starved, His eyes meet yours as he keeps his face buried between your thighs, your hips trying to get more friction as you cry his name out loudly.

"Felix!" You scream, his teeth gently biting on your clit as he sends you over the edge. Ecstasy washed through you as your hips shuddered beneath him, a giant smirk toyed on his lips as he got up from the floor.

"That was fucking hot," He moans out before kissing you deeply, your legs wrapped around his waist as you yanked him closer to you. The kiss was desperate, raw, filled with a need so strong you began to grind against his pants.

"You'll make a mess, firecracker," He chuckles softly before you pull away, unbuckling his belt and kicking his pants down leaving him bare in front of you. Felix was quick to reach for his wallet, grabbing a condom from the inside and rolling it onto himself as you wiggle your eyebrows at him.

"This is going to be quick," He winks at you, he could hear a commotion happening outside but you smirked at him. The two of you were at a ball filled to the brim with rich people and you wanted them to hear you getting fucked by him.

"Lix, don't make me beg," You whine before he slams into you, holding you tightly as you groan, throwing your head back against the mirror so hard you were afraid it was going to break. You scream his name out as he pulls back and thrusts into you again, your legs wrapped around his waist as you bring him closer to him.

"Felix!" You cry out as the door handle jiggles, making you giggle as Felix chuckles to himself.

"Felix! Is that you?!" A man yelled from outside the door, you whimpered a little but Felix only continued to plow in and out of you.

"I'm busy fucking my girl, we'll be out soon!" He calls out before slamming into you again, your head rolling back as your hips bucked toward him. You dig your heels into his ass urging him on and his hand presses onto the mirror behind you, the other on your hips as he fucks you. His thrusts wild and hard as he groans your name out.

"L-Lix." You moan out as he continues to drive into you, your hands digging into his shoulders as you yank him closer to you, your release drawing closer as you cry out his name.

"I've got you, you can come, firecracker," He moans out, reaching his hand down and rubbing your clit roughly. Your release rushes over you unexpectedly as you cry out his name loudly, whimpering and bucking uncontrollably. Felix chuckles to himself, completely in love with the way you come undone around him but he doesn't stop.

He continues to fuck into you, one leg over his shoulder as he hits you at a different angle,

"G-God, YES!" You cry out as he smirks to himself, his fingers rubbing your clit as you whimper his name out, your third orgasm of the night already fast approaching as you whimper his name again and again.

"Come for me, firecracker. One last time," He grunts, thrusting harder as you cry out his name, your stomach clenching as you cum around him once again, clenching so tightly you send him over the edge and he spills into the condom.

The two of you stay like that for a few seconds until Felix carefully lowers your leg down and leans his forehead against yours, panting heavily as you let out a tiny giggle.

"Think people will stare when we go out there?" You leaned back against the mirror and watched as Felix smirked and nodded.

"Who cares?" He chuckled before slowly dressing himself. A loud banging sounded on the door as you rolled your eyes, someone was clearly desperate for the toilet or for Felix's attention and you hated them for it.

"I've got info for you!" Someone yelled from outside the door as Felix stuffs himself back into his trousers, did himself up and checked that you were dressed before opening the door he wasn't going to risk anyone but him seeing you.

"Minho," Felix greets with a smirk on his lips, the man glances in your direction before looking over his shoulder.

"Kitten, take Felix's date to the girls for a chat. The men need to talk business." You glanced at Felix to make sure it was okay first and he nodded, kissing your cheek quickly before you ran off with the woman Minho had spoken to.

The girls you'd been standing with were all so friendly and each of them had been telling you about their dates, you since learnt that all of them were with a criminal madman which had made you feel a lot better about yourself and Felix.

"I hate you," You grumbled, jokingly as Felix stood behind you, his lips brushing against the skin on your neck making your body shiver. The bathroom sex wasn't enough, you wanted to go back home and fuck until you saw the morning sun,

"I hate you more, my little firecracker" Felix smirked down at you before you swatted his hands away from you, but he successfully managed to get his hands around your waist and he smirked.

"Excuse us, ladies but we have some making up to go and do." Felix chuckled before dragging you away without a second to even say goodbye to them all.

"Hey I was having fun, who knows when I'll see them again?" You pouted a little, but Felix spun you around and pulled you into a tight embrace.

"You'll see them at our wedding no doubt." He shrugs as if it was the most casual thing in the world for him to say and you roll your eyes at him,

"You're that sure I'll marry you?" You quipped, he was. In fact, he was willing to put money on it.

"I'm sure I can convince you after a few more orgasms," He winks before you shove against his chest and make your way out to a car.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie @myyouthdonut @extrhotjne @ca11me3mily @elissasimp

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withleeknow · 3 months

Text

cats and soup.

note: i have a newfound obsession and it's cats and soup so this might be a little niche but it's meant for me and i just wanted to word vomit lmfao

cats and soup, that's your latest obsession. all it took was five minutes of your friend introducing you to the game before you were completely captivated by the world of cute little animated cats making soup on your phone.

so much so that you had to show your boyfriend.

obviously. it's a game about cats. who else would you rather squeal about it with?

though, much to your disappointment, minho doesn't seem very impressed as you try to get him to look at your phone screen for more than ten seconds.

okay. little meanie.

"why would you need to play a game like this when you have our actual babies right over there?"

"i have them in here too!" you'd argue. "look! i named them soonie, doongie and dori. aren't they so cute? soonie is on soup duty, doongie is chopping carrots, and dori is grating cabbages. i even got them cute little hats!"

the mention of his cats featured in the game gets minho to spare you a glance, intrigued for a fleeting moment before he's turning away again.

you'd scowl at his refusal to entertain you but then you'd admit defeat pretty quickly in favor of immersing in your phone once more. it's cats !! making soups !!

it's not unusual for you two to be in separate bubbles while sitting side by side. you're not one of those couples who has to do everything with each other, but you did kinda hope that this would be something for you to have fun with together.

but oh well, if minho isn't interested, then you can't force him. the game is still fun though. even though you go to bed that night a little bummed out, you still fall asleep thinking about getting a black kitten and naming it mimo. it'd be cute, maybe you'd even put him on lemon squeezing duty.

fast forward to the next morning, when he literally shakes you awake at the ass crack of dawn, calling your name frantically.

your first thought is the house must be burning down, because lee minho never acts like this.

"i finally got you!"

"you got me what?"

"i got your cat!"

"what?"

actually, on second thought, the only time that you've seen him this hyped up was when you'd gotten you two matching pjs with soonie, doongie and dori printed on them.

"see?!" then the guy is full on shoving his phone in your face, the sudden brightness of his screen almost taking your eyes out that you have to push his hand away.

"min!"

"sorry. here."

he'd lower the brightness and hold the device a safe distance from your face, impatiently waiting for your eyes to adjust to whatever it is that he's trying to show you.

it's a cat.

an animated cat.

specifically, a cats and soup animated cat, named after you.

"you named a cat after me?"

"yeah i was waiting for ages to get another black cat. i got one first and named it after me. now we can be a black cat couple. look at the cat tower i got us-"

"minho, what the fuck? when did you even start playing?"

"i downloaded it after you fell asleep."

"have you been playing all night? did you even sleep?"

"no, but that's beside the point. look, i'm trying to show you!"

you love him, you do. truly. completely. most ardently. you recognize that this is one of the cutest things that he's done. but jesus christ...

"it's sunday. it's 6 in the morning."

"yeah i know, but-"

"i'll look at it later."

"you're up, you can look now. i got you a potted plant that grows from your head and-"

"lee minho, let me fucking go back to sleep!"

you may have unintentionally created a monster.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho #blurbs

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sunarc · 7 months

Text

After Hours

𝖘𝖈𝖊𝖓𝖊 1

toji x reader

Synopsis: What happens when you meet someone willing to make all you naughty dreams come true?

CW: virginity loss, corruption kink, size kink, alcohol consumption, shy reader, toji is a player, cum eating, Shiu is being a daddy in this per usual, modern au, afab reader, bar owner toji, 5.1k words, please let me know if i missed anything

A/N:I’m so happy to present day 1 of Kinktober!!! I’m so excited for y’all to read please enjoy!

You sipped your drink to the sound of rock music playing loudly from the speakers. You watched as hot sweaty bodies crowded around a pool table swinging money in the air while yelling out bets. The bar was lively, it was loud and there you sat, quietly at the end of the bar, watching everyone, enjoying the show. The bar had people from all walks of life come through. Some would come through and tell you stories you could never imagine, some telling you of where they were headed and some just a little sleezy looking for a quick fuck. You were never the type for hookups. You honestly couldn’t imagine being with a random stranger for one fun night. You enjoyed being in this space. It was fun to see so many different people and get to experience another’s life just for a few minutes.

“I can’t possibly imagine doing something so scary like that” you said, shocked listening to the story being told by the big figure sitting in front of you smoking a cigarette.

“You wouldn’t believe all of the crazy things I’ve done sweetheart” he pulled a long drag from his cigarette then turned to you.

“You got any stories?” he asked

“Who? Me? I- uh no I don’t really do much” you fumbled over your words suddenly becoming nervous by the question.

It was true, you didn’t really do much. You were honestly as innocent as they come. You didn’t drink, not because you thought it was bad but more so because the taste of alcohol was quite repulsive. You had never had a boyfriend before, hell you had never engaged in sex before. You just never found someone worth giving yourself away to. The idea was honestly scary. Having to get naked and show your body to another person was honestly scary yet something about it felt so intriguing. Something about sleeping with someone and having them take you in ways you wouldn’t dare speak about out loud was almost thrilling. You shook the thought away.

“I really mostly like to just hear about other people’s stories, I find them fascinating really.” You said, giving a shy smile.

He nodded his head silently taking in your words.

“Hm, I guess I could understand” he took a drag finishing his cigarette. “But what about living?”

You gave a confused look.

Living?

“What do you mean, I am living?” the question almost sounded silly

“No, you're listening to other people live. You’re basically living vicariously through other people.” He scoffed. “Why not enjoy the thrills of life yourself instead of hearing it from other people?”

The question left you speechless. You sat staring at the man's mouth slightly open unsure of what to say.

Why weren’t you living?

You went to work and came to this hole in the wall bar every night just to listen to stories and drink juice. When were you going to be the one telling the stories?

“You bothering my customers Shiu?” a loud voice interrupted your thoughts.

Toji, the bar owner, walked over to the two of you cleaning a glass with a smirk.

“Bothering? I could never. I think that might be your job.” he chuckled.

“How you doing pretty? Need another drink?” Toji asked, looking down at your almost empty glass.

“Hi Toji, I’m well today. I’d love another juice thankyou” you said smiling softly.

Ever since you first walked into the bar Toji had been as kind as ever. His smile was always inviting. He was tall, buff and handsome. He always left you feeling starstruck as he moved behind the counter muscles flexing in his tight shirt smiling handsomely at customers as they handed him large tips. He always gave you free drinks mostly because you only ordered juice. He was even nice enough to let you stay after closing and keep him company while he cleaned and told you stories of before he owned the bar.

“Your friend wasn’t bothering me” you said as he handed you a full glass. “I was probably bothering him,” you laughed.

Toji smiled and leaned forward on his elbows.

“I’m sure a pretty girl like you could never bother anyone.”

You looked down smiling at the remark. Toji was a big flirt with everyone. If a pretty girl walked in and looked like she had big pockets he would somehow always flirt his way into an unusually large tip.

“I was just offering a little advice,” Shiu said as he pulled out another cigarette, putting it between his lips.

“Last time you gave someone advice they died” Toji commented as he fixed a drink for a regular.

“They took it a little too literally, that isn’t my fault” he lit the cigarette pulling a long drag.

The two bantered back and forth arguing over his advice.

“He actually told me something really helpful” You interrupted.

“Oh yeah and what was it exactly?” Toji leaned over the counter dangerously close to you. He bit his lip as he stared at you waiting for you to answer. You shied away suddenly feeling nervous under his gaze.

“I- well it was just about me living life that’s all” you stumbled over your words.

Toji smirked at you

“Now why would he say such a thing doll?” he seemed intrigued as he sat up and poured a shot for himself and Shui.

“I guess , well , I’m just not living out my fantasies…” your voice died out towards the end of your sentence.

“Not living out your fantasies?” Toji rested his head in his hand with a smirk playing on his face.

“Tell me more about that” his voice was low as he asked for more. You sat in front of him watching his movements almost hypnotized by the way he spoke so smoothly. Toji was an intimidating guy. No matter how many nights you spent sitting chatting with him about any and everything you never failed to grow nervous under his dark gaze.

“I uh I shouldn’t talk too much about it” you let out a nervous chuckle.

Toji sat up letting out a small sigh.

“All right then, keep your secrets,” he laughed.

You gave a shy smile before sipping your drink. It would have been hard to admit in front of two obviously attractive men that you fantasized about losing your virginity. The topic seemed so taboo. You could imagine them pushing for more details. Why hadn’t you lost your virginity? What are you waiting for? Are you some kind of saint, too good for sex?None of the above. The right person just hasn’t come along yet, someone to send chills through your body just from their voice. You wanted someone who would make you feel something, someone worth it. You sat in silence stuck on the previous conversation. You hadn’t noticed the bar slowly emptying out. Drunk bodies stumbled out slurring words as they called their rides.

“You sticking with me, pretty girl?” Toji’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

You nodded your head with a small smile, it wouldn’t hurt having another late night conversation with Toji while he closed.You looked around noticing Shui pulling out his last cigarette before throwing back the rest of his drink.

“I’m leaving you, two have a good night” he turned to you “I meant what I said live a little, kid”

“Hey what about me Shiu got any advice for me ?” he teased

Shiu walked to the door before turning around

“Hm, actually yes, go to hell” he smirked and left without another word.

Toji scuffed as he wiped down the counter.

“Asshole,” he mumbled.

You laughed at the encounter and looked around at the now empty bar. It was nice to look at apart from the scattered beer and glasses. The bar had nice decor, it was one of the main factors that attracted you to the place.

“So any new stories for me?” you asked, watching as Toji came from behind the counter with a broom sweeping the place.

“You like my stories that much?” he asked, half his attention on you, half on cleaning.

“You spun around on the bar stool laughing to yourself at the childish action.

“I think you have fun things to say” you thinking to yourself for a moment “And well I guess I really like your voice” you mumbled the last part.

Toji chuckled, stopping his actions. He looked at you with a smirk.

“You like my voice huh?”

You looked away suddenly embarrassed by your confession.

“I mean well you- it” you stammered

“It’s okay doll” Toji walked closer to you lowering his voice in the process.

“I could talk all you want” he said “ But I’d more so like to hear something about you” he said as he came close standing between your legs as you sat facing him on the stool.

“Something about me?” you asked slightly confused.

“Yeah, I mean you sit with me while I clean all the time and you listen to me go on and on about stories for days yet, you never talk to me about yourself.” he said leaning closer to you.

Your breath hitched feeling the heat from his body as he closed the space between you two.

“For example I’d love to continue that conversation from earlier, you know the one about those fantasies of yours.”

He leaned down eye level to you just a breath away. His lips were only inches away from yours. You wanted to lean in just to see how soft his lips would be. Would he taste like alcohol or something sweeter? How soft would his lips be? You leaned into him only for him to reach behind you picking up the spray bottle and rag. He walked away with a smirk and began wiping down tables.

“Talk to me doll” he said “ I mean I’ve told you so many things before it's only fair you tell me a secret or two” his voice was sensual. It sent tingles through your body to your core. You crossed your legs squeezing tight at the sound.

“Well” you said contemplating if you should speak your thoughts.

Toji stopped his cleaning to look at you

“It's just us two here, you can tell me anything” he said softly.

You looked around as if you’d somehow find someone sitting in the corner listening in. To no surprise the room was empty apart from Toji’s large muscular body standing a few feet away from you.

“I guess I just fantasize about losing my virginity,” you said, voice fading away.

You felt embarrassed at your confession. You wanted to hide away. Lose your virgin, what a foolish fantasy. Why not something like travel the world or start a business, that’s a real fantasy but no there you sat legs crossed squeezed searching for friction. “I mean- well there's more but I well” your words seemed to scramble as you spoke. Toji stood in front of you smiling at your truth.

“I think that’s a cute fantasy.” he said

He leaned against the table and folded his arm.

“I’d love to hear more about this…” he bowed his head, hiding his smile, “fantasy,” he said finishing his sentence.

“What? More?” you almost yelled shocked by his words

He licked his lips while making eye contact.

“Yeah” he repeated “More”

He got up from the table and began to roam around the room with a sigh.

“I mean there’s gotta be something more to this little fantasy of yours”

He walked over to you fiddling with the edge of your skirt. His fingers brushed against your skin making you feel hot all over.

“What is it, do you have some fantasy of getting tied up for your first time?”

His fingers danced across your skin. He looked down concentrated on his hand movements.

“Or do you just want a nice big cock to stretch you out?”

His words went straight to your core. You were too shocked by the vulgarity of it all to say anything. No one had ever spoken to you like that before. No one’s words had ever made you throb the way his did.He chuckled at your silence. Toji stepped away and went back to cleaning. You almost had the urge to snatch his arm and drag him back to you. You could never see yourself being that brave though.

“Well what about you?” you muttered too shy to speak up.

“Hm? Me?” he asked looking up from his task.

“Oh well I’ve got a few fantasies I guess” He stood with a concentrated look thinking about his own fantasies.

Your mind was running a relay race imagining the lewd words that could possibly come from him. At the same time you wondered what he could possibly fantasize about? What had he not done? You leaned forward intrigued with what he would say.

“Tell me,” you said, eyes wide with interest.

He laughed at your eagerness

“You really wanna know?” he asked, leaning against the table.

You nodded your head, excitement coursing through you.

“I do,” you said in a hushed voice.

Toji walked to you leaving his rag behind. His footsteps seemed so loud in the empty room. He filled up so much space with confidence alone.

“I guess I have that same fantasy”

His finger traced your jawline while his eyes stared deep into yours.

“I’ve been thinking about it alot lately,” he said as he licked his lips. “I can't stop thinking about how good it would feel stretching out a fresh virgin hole. The thought of making someone so innocent beg for my cock while I fuck them dumb” his bit his lip and looked down towards your plump ones “That shit just drives me crazy doll”

Your breath hitched as he spoke. You couldn’t help the throbbing that went to your core. The thought of having someone like Toji give you everything you ever desired sent shivers through you. You knew he’d make you feel better than any toy you had could ever make you feel. The way his lips looked so wet and soft, the way his muscles strained against his shirt, how he always smelled good always made your heart beat so hard you were sure he could hear. You sat starstruck, unable to form the words you wanted to say. Hell, you didn’t even know what to say. Would you beg him to fuck you, to take your virginity right then and there? Would you tell him that's nice and try to change the subject? No you had to take chances,

Live a little kid

You heard Shiu’s words replay in your mind like a record.

Now was the time to live a little.

“You got something on your mind?” Toji asked as if he was just waiting for you to say the word.

“I can help” the words flew out your mouth at the speed of light.

You wanted to hide away after hearing yourself. Help what? Clean? You couldn't pull yourself together.

Toji hummed satisfied with your answer.

“You want to help?” he asked “Are you asking me to bend you over and fuck you in this bar?”

He leaned in to whisper the words in your ear. Hearing him say it out loud almost felt wrong.

“I do- I mean I am- wait I mean” you fumbled over your words too overcome with embarrassment to function.

Toji’s laughter caught you off guard. He grabbed you by the jaw and pulled you in for a kiss. The kiss was wet. He tasted so sweet even though he had been drinking. His lips were soft. So soft you felt yourself melting into him. Your hands gripped the side of the stool almost tearing at the leather. Toji’s hand moved down to your neck pulling you closer to deepen the kiss. His kiss was delicate yet was filled with hunger. His fingers danced up your skirt feeling the heat between your legs.

“No panties huh, you’re not as innocent as i thought” he smiled as he inched his fingers closer to your core feeling the way you were practically leaking.

“This can’t possibly be your first go around. You come in wearing these short skirts” he pressed a kiss to your neck and licked a long strip up to your jaw.

“You're wearing nothing underneath. I bet you were just begging for someone like me to peek and see that pretty little pussy dripping all over my seats.”

You were left in a daze from his fingers just barely brushing against where you needed him most to how he sucked your neck leaving your skin feeling raw. His scent filled your every waking being. He was all that you could feel, see, touch, smell. It was almost as if he had become the only person left in the world and all that you wanted was for him to touch you; to touch you in ways no one had ever done before. You needed him. Your mind was desperately pleading for him to slip his fingers inside of you, to feel your gummy walls and finally give you the pleasure that you were desperately clinging onto him for.

“Please touch me” you whimpered out.

Your voice felt so weak. You were so needy for him, your fingers dug into his arm pulling him closer.

“Such a needy little thing” he chuckled

His fingers moved along your legs teasing you with every touch.

“I need more than that love. Where do you need me” he voiced with his head still in the crook of your neck sucking and licking at your skin.

You grabbed his hand, dragging it up your thigh to place it between your folds. Words seemed to fail you so taking action was your only choice.

“Here”

Toji smiled at your courage. His fingers maneuvered up and down your core feeling how wet you were. He rubbed soothing circles onto the bundle of nerves earning him a soft moan from you.

“Have you ever been stuffed with someone’s fingers?” he asked in a low voice

You shook your head while meeting his eyes.Toji free hand grabbed your jaw.

“Words Princess”

“No,” you whimpered.

Your answer seemed to have a strong effect on him. The thought of watching your innocence slip away from you at his hand was enough to have his cock straining against his pants.

“I’m gonna put a finger in and I’ll let you know each time I do just so you don’t get all shy on me when your pussy’s sucking my fingers in” he smiled.

His thumb kept a steady pace rubbing quick circles while he slipped his first finger into your hole.

“That’s it” he said, rocking his finger in and out of your eyes watching the way your mouth widened to an ‘o’ shape while moans spilled past your lips.

“You like that?” He placed a wet kiss on your lips.”Pussy feels so tight baby, I wonder how you’re gonna take my cock”

You let out a whine while your hips grinded down onto his hand.

“More please, I need more”

Toji’s eyes lit up at your words.

“Oh? My nasty girl wants more huh” He smirked “I’m putting in a second finger now dirty girl, I’ll give you what you want”

His second finger slipped in with ease. A gasp escaped your lips as he filled you up groaning at the way your hole squeezed around his fingers.

“So wet for me doll.” His breath ghosted against your lips as his fingers continued to fuck in and out of you making a mess below you. You let out weak moans and gasp. This feeling of his fingers massaging your gummy walls was something you had never experienced before. You felt the world revolving around you. Your heart was racing in your chest. Everything seemed so loud at that moment. The way his breaths sounded sharp as his fingers picked up speed. The drips of water from the sink he had left running after washing dishes, The cars speeding by not noticing how you were falling apart giving yourself away to him. If a car were to slow down just for a few seconds it would have been so easy to just peek into the window to see how your legs were spread open. Your hips were grinding down onto him. It would have been so easy just to see how much of a mess you were making for his fingers. That seemed to send a thrill through you, having some unknown stranger turn their head and watch you lose your virginity and take a cock for the first time.

“God, it feels so good” you let out a loud gasp unable to contain yourself.

The feeling of him dipping his fingers into you was so overwhelming you thought you might lose your mind. You had never touched yourself like this before. You always stayed away from fucking your self with you fingers to afraid to stick a finger in always preferring to massage your clit. Little did you know the desire and pleasure that would come with having someone shove their fingers deep into you, you were practically drooling from the feeling. You felt a pit forming in your stomach the feeling so foreign all you could do was moan and curse about how good he felt.

“Come on doll” Toji rasped out “ Give it to me, make me proud, show me how pretty you look making a mess on my fingers.”

His words were enough to send you spiraling. You let out loud unfiltered moans. This was new, something better than ever. You wanted- no craved more. This feeling of ecstasy felt like a drug taking over you. You let out heavy breathes as you came down from your high.

“Don’t think we’re done just yet doll, I want you to take your first cock” Toji said as he lifted you bringing you to the table he had just wiped down.

He pulled your shirt up exposing your breast and pulled a nipple into his mouth. You let out a long moan feeling his hot tongue swivel around your nipple. His mouth felt so warm. His hand squeezed and massaged your other breast as he let out a groan. He pulled your skirt off and threw it in a nearby corner.

“You won't be needing that” He said as he took your body in.

He pulled his cock free from his pants and your eyes went wide. Not only was he big, he was thick. You sat staring with a slack jaw fearful that his two fingers weren’t enough to make him fit. He stroked his cock as he rubbed circles on your clit.

“Look at what you do to me doll” he said, voice strained. “Got me so fucking hard I can’t wait to make your pussy cream”

He pushed you down so that your back was laying flat against the table. His arms wrapped around your thighs to pull you to the edge of the table. He rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit sending shivers through your body.

“Look at you, being so good for me, you ready to take your first cock” he licked his lips staring at your glistening cunt “You ready to make a real mess for me baby?”

The tip of his cock prodded at your hole just barely entering.

“It- It’s too big” you whimpered watching as he held his cock rubbing it through your folds.

“Don’t worry doll, I’ll make it fit” he said, eyes never leaving your hole.

He inched his cock into you achingly slowly watching how your pussy sucked him in taking all that he was giving you. Toji’s eyes rolled back, feeling how tight you were squeezing around him. He had known you'd be tight but never did he imagine you’d have him ready to cum just from sinking himself into you. He stilled inside of you just admiring the warmth and tightness of you. He took a deep breath to gather himself.

“Fuck you feel so good” he whispered the words and you almost didnt hear him.

“I’m gonna take it nice and slow for you princess”

He moved his hips in a slow motion watching the way your face moved from being scrunched up in pain to eyes rolling back enjoying the pleasure of being stuffed full.

“You like that shit” he asked as he rolled his hips into you slowly. His cock felt so delicious inside of you. You wanted this feeling forever. He filled you up so perfectly. You couldn’t fathom the idea of having anyone else fill you up like this. The way his hips rolled into yours meeting your hips with a soft slap left you gasping for air.

“Breathe baby breath” he rubbed soothing circles into your hips.

You sucked in a shaky breath not realizing you had been holding your breath focusing solely on the pleasure of him.

“Come on baby let me hear those moans, I want to hear how you sound taking your first cock” he squeezed your hips as he rocked into you. Toji was holding back. He bit his lip trying to contain himself. He didn’t want to destroy you for your first time. It was taking everything in him not to absolutely wreck you. He made a mental note to himself that the next time he stuffed his cock into you, he’d leaving you a drooling fucked out mess but for now he would be content with just watching the way you’d fall apart taking him your first time.

“Tell me how it feels” he leaned down to pepper wet kisses from your collar to your neck. “First time being so full, tell me where you feel me baby talk to me”

You could barely breathe properly and now you were trying to form sentences.

“So good ugh I feel it all in my tummy it's so big” you slurred.

Your moans were so loud any person walking by would have a perfect show to watch. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about any lingering stares that could possibly be watching through the window. Your mind wandered off to thoughts of someone sneaking looks through the window, digging their hand in their pants and getting off to you creaming on your first cock. What a lewd thought. Your whimpers seemed to repeat like a broken record. You couldn’t help but moan and beg him for more.

“Faster please I need more” you whimpered, hardly able to contain yourself as you bucked your hips upwards into him.

“You sure doll, I don't think I’ll be able to stop if I do” his voice was gruff as he fucked you in a slow pace.

“Please” you begged “I need you so bad”

Toji bit his lip. He grabbed your legs pulling them up so your ankles could rest on his shoulder. He rubbed your stomach feeling where his cock was inside of you. His hands massaged your skin as he grabbed your calf kissing your ankle.

“Be a good girl and take everything I give you then, hm?”

His cocked slammed into you at a pace you did not expect. His hips met yours with a loud slap. Toji’s eyes scanned your body watching every movement. Your back arched off the table as you moaned so loud your voice echoed off the walls.

“Look so pretty taking cock” he groaned “ Mean to tell me I’m the first one to get to see you like this”

His thrust were relentless slamming into you “This sight is too pretty to share.” His thumb rubbed circles onto your clit as he rocked his hips into you.

“That’s it taking me so well doll” His words were going straight to your core.

You could barely form sentences, only strained moans and slurred versions of his name. Your body seemed to fall apart for him. The table under you rocked back and forth with his thrust. If you had half a mind you would be worried that it would break but all you could think of was how you were about to cum. You felt a warmth in your stomach as he fucked you.

“Come one Princess I want you to cum with me. I want to see how messy you get for the first time” his words had your eyes rolling back. You felt so weak barely able to do anything but cum on his cock. Your body didn’t feel like yours. You had never came so hard in your life. He was covered in your juices, soaked from all that you had to give him. Toji’s eyes were looking down focused on the way his cum mixed with yours covered his cock. His movements slowed as he fucked the cum inside of you.

“I don’t like being wasteful” he said as two fingers covered in cum moved between your lips. You sucked his fingers obediently without a second thought. You were in such a daze you would have done anything for him.

“You were so good for me” his voice was low as he leaned down placing kisses on your lips.

Toji felt his heart growing warm. He had never felt so soft for someone before.With any other girl who would have already been zipping up his pants and ordering them a ride but for you it felt different. He wanted to fulfill every fantasy you had. He wanted to be the only one watching you cum. It was either him or nothing at all. You were just too perfect to share. From the way your chest moved trying to catch your breath to the way your plump lips sat open wet from drool had his heart feeling like it might beat out of his chest.

“I want to make all those nasty fantasies of yours come true.” He whispered, kissing your skin cock still stuffed inside of you.

“I want to be the only one to get to see you like this”

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