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twogyuu · 1 year

Text

Nameless

Pairing: Wonwoo x fem!reader

Synopsis: Perhaps you were both fonder of one another than you thought - it only took one night in the city founded on two forbidden lovers for the two of you to realize.

Alternatively, Romeo and Juliet, but make it ATLA :P

Genre: Fluff, crack, some angst, atla!au, Of Flames and Fate!couple, firebender!wonwoo (he bends blue fire!!!), bounty hunter!wonwoo, former general!wonwoo, waterbender!reader, southern water tribe princess!reader, earthbender!jeonghan, old man!jeonghan (jeonghan is oc’s caretaker), my cabbages guy!mingyu, they’re in Omashu

Warnings: Mentions of war/weapons/violence, profanity, food, injury with a cabbage cart, one sexual innuendo at the end, unedited (I wrote most of this at like 3AM 😭💀 I will go back and fix this so it flows better some day–)

WC: ~6k

A/N: For my biggest firebender!wonwoo agenda supporter, @wisteria-woo . She be knew from the beginning ✊

Loosely inspired by ATLA, Love Between Fairy and Devil, and Hotarubi no Mori e.

original drabble || when the sun kissed the moon

. . . .

The screen door slid open abruptly, the bright light of the morning sun spilling into the small room, taking Wonwoo by surprise. A basket of damp clothes in hand, you grumpily pushed past Wonwoo, without a care for the firebender. You bumped his shoulder roughly on your way inside, though it was hard to tell if it was purposeful or out of ignorance. The young man watched you curiously for a moment as you lugged the heavy hamper towards the backdoor.

He figured you must’ve gone to the Common to do laundry at the fountain today and were just making your way back to hang the clothes in the courtyard of the hostel. Wonwoo did find it strange, however; you usually never went to town on your own without him (Jeonghan’s rules – not that he always wanted to nor did he mind these days) and as of late, he had been attempting to be more helpful – washing clothes being one of them.

That said, it was clear to him that you were bitter today – and Wonwoo had an inkling as to why.

Rushing to your side as you stepped over the threshold and onto the porch, he lifted the basket from the bottom to take some of the weight off your shoulders. Immediately, you stopped in your tracks and shot him a scowl.

“Can I help?” he offered you a small smile.

You only scoffed, though not refusing his help. You let go of your side, Wonwoo nearly stumbling forward with the additional weight.

Quietly, the two of you picked the damp clothing and flung them over the free space along one of the wires towards the end of the courtyard. Despite pretending to be interested in the worn beige blanket he had just pinned up, Wonwoo watched you carefully out of the corner of his eye. You were rather efficient today; like a robot only programmed to move from the drying line to the basket, furiously shaking out the clothes and blankets and clipping them to the wire. Your usual gentle and bright expression was replaced with a hardened look, the space between your brows creased. It worried Wonwoo that if you kept scowling for that long, your face might get stuck like that.

Admittedly, it wasn’t a cute look on you.

Silence ensued – only the slight breeze rustling the leaves of the tree overhanging the hostel and the occasional chirp of spring birds in the distance. The hostel was empty for the most part – the innkeeper and his wife were busy at the front calculating last night’s profits and cooking lunch. Most travelers had already taken off in the early hours of dawn and the few guests who extended their stay seemed to have business elsewhere during the day.

When enough was enough, Wonwoo parted an opening past what he thought was Jeonghan’s trousers and one of your overshirts, invading your side of the barrier.

“Can you at least acknowledge my existence?” Wonwoo asked.

Face still stoic, you slumped your shoulders and let out a long, heavy breath.

“Good morning, Wonwoo,” you said monotonously before marching off to your chore.

“You’re still upset,” he noted.

“And what’s it to you, bounty hunter?” you shot back.

“It’s just a silly festival –”

“Stop.”

Your face hardened as you continued to stare at him. As the seconds pass, the corner of your lips downturned into a tight frown, the rage from yesterday clearly still fresh in your heart.

“It’ll be fun!” you tried, leaning over the table, nearly knocking over your bowl of soup. It was fortunate Jeonghan was sitting next to you, the elder earthbender having impeccable reflexes for his age. His hand flew up immediately to slide the bowl back towards the center, sending you a warning look.

While entering Omashu today, Wonwoo had noted the decorations going up around town. The marketplace was bustling, with several merchants selling rich fabric, gold-encrusted pendants, and treats – a rare sight for such exquisite and exclusive items to be sold in such a place. In particular, Wonwoo had noticed the massive array of animal masks hanging in various stalls, some clearly representing animals in the surrounding area, others more artistic and painted with bright shades of blues and reds.

When he had asked about it, Jeonghan had explained the city was preparing for the Festival of the Badger Moles: an annual celebration of the birth of earthbending. Traditionally, people wore masks of the badger mole, but for the sake of festivities, within recent decades it has extended to other animals as well – mostly worn by children. There would be steam carts, live music, dancing, and goods being sold.

To you, however, the Festival of the Badger Moles was merely a legend Jeonghan would tell you stories about for the both of you were never in Omashu whenever it happened. With the nature of Jeonghan’s profession as a freelance welder, the two of you moved around frequently. This would be the first time you were in the city during the festivities and you were eager to experience it.

Though . . . that came Jeonghan’s condition that Wonwoo had to go with you.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Wonwoo shrank back at your suggestion.

“Why not?” you pouted. “It’ll be a nice break from . . . everything. Time to breathe.”

“It’s . . . dangerous to be around a person like me,” Wonwoo tried to explain.

“You’re with us, right now?” you frowned, not quite understanding where he was coming from.

“No,” Wonwoo huffed in frustration. “Like out in public – in the masses. If you forgot,” he peered around to check for any listening ears and leaned in closer, lowering his volume. “I’m a bounty hunter, discarded son of the Fire Nation general . . . I’m a wanted man.”

You sat back on your heels, finally starting to understand – though, there was a tinge of selfishness in you that night.

“We’ll be wearing masks?” you tried.

Wonwoo only shook his head firmly. “It’s not safe – for me and you.”

You nodded in disappointment, though moments later turning to Jeonghan excitedly, a new compromise on the tip of your tongue.

“No,” Jeonghan shot you down before you could even try. His tone was harsh, but his expression was serene as he sipped on his soup.

“But–”

“My condition was that you’d go with Wonwoo, but Wonwoo doesn’t want to go,” Jeonghan laid out his rationale. “End of discussion.”

“Y/N,” Wonwoo tried. He took a step closer to you, but you took another one back.

“It might just be a silly festival to you, but it’s important to me,” you muttered. You inhaled sharply and squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. “I don’t expect anyone to understand, but it’s whatever,” you waved him off. “I know, Wonwoo – I understand. I’m just . . . upset at the situation, not at you.”

Wonwoo’s footing stuttered again as he extended a hand towards you. He was quick to stop in his tracks, his long fingers curling into a fist. His arm hung in the air a moment longer before he drew it to his side, muttering a quiet apology.

“I just need some space for now,” you mumbled, taking your leave.

There it was again: the sudden urge to chase after you and pull you into an embrace and comfort you. The look of disappointment etching into your features made his heart ache because he knew none of this was your fault, yet you silently suffered the brunt of it. You were kind and carefree – admittedly a little naive at times, but your intentions were good. It was unfortunate out of all people, it had to be you. He only complicated the situation.

Wonwoo wasn’t sure when he grew soft for you, but before he knew it, he was.

However, he knew better than to grow attached.

You were the hidden daughter of the Southern Water Tribe Chief.

He was the renounced son of the Fire Nation General – without a country and title. He was basically demoted to a righteous nomad at best.

At least, nomads had a group of people to call home.

Your lives weren’t supposed to cross; they were meant to run in parallel. Only this once where you needed one another would fate allow it for what seemed like a second in the infinite stream of time.

. . . .

You couldn’t sleep well that night.

You tossed and turned, the mat suddenly seemingly too thin and your mid-back ached from the floor boards. The early summer breeze whistled too loudly through the slits of the walls and did nothing to calm the sweltering heat of your room. It especially didn’t help that you could hear the festivities from the city – the occasional outburst of giggles of groups of girls passing by the inn, sparklers crackling in the distance.

Giving into every little thing making you miserable tonight, you threw off your covers and pushed yourself up in bed and leaned against the wall between yours and Wonwoo and Jeonghan’s room. You twisted the base of your lamp, the flame inside flicking on instantly as you let out a long breath and rested your head up against the wall.

It could’ve been you out there tonight.

Alas, society had bigger plans for you, in which you couldn’t even enjoy the simple pleasures of life.

It wasn’t always like this.

In fact, it was only a few weeks ago when life was still simple: metalworker Jeonghan and his clumsy kid apprentice against the world – or more precisely, most of the Earth Nation. There just happened to be a quiet, but emotional, young man who followed the two of you around for a bit.

You had yet to see the world.

Though it was mundane, on days like this, you preferred it that way.

There was no title of “chief’s long-lost daughter” or “princess” hanging over your head like a market sign painted red; no need to second guess everything you said or did in fear of revealing who you were. You kept your lips sealed and your thoughts locked away in your heart.

The scariest part?

A heavy thud outside your window startled you from your late night musing – it almost sounded like someone threw a sack of potatoes on the wooden porch leading into your quarters. Your thoughts and unanswered questions long forgotten, you spun around to face the screen door and reached for your dagger in the wool knapsack at the foot of your bed.

A silhouette of a man crouched on his knees fanned across your screen door. Jeonghan was always cautious. From a young age, he trained you for moments like this – “surprises” he called them, but not the good kind. How to attack, signals to send if he wasn’t there, where to meet him if they parted ways, etc.

Though you knew it was for your own safety, not until recently, did it occur to you that it was because Jeonghan’s mission was to keep you alive as the Southern Water Tribe chief’s daughter. You begged to differ, but some viewed your life more worthy of gold than others.

Just as you were about to knock against the wall to signal to Wonwoo and Jeonghan, the figure moved swiftly. The door slid open, his figure a blur. You blinked and Wonwoo was in front of you, one finger against his thin lips, and the other resting atop yours that was wrapped around the dagger.

“Wonwoo?” you whispered, your heart sank. Relieved, you sat back on your heels.

“Keep quiet,” he replied. He turned slightly to the room next door.

“You scared me!”

He smiled sheepishly. Realizing just how close the two of you were, he shuffled back to create some space.

“Sorry.”

“What are you doing here?” you asked, eyes scanning his figure. His hair was matted against forehead, his usual form-fitting faded red suit and threadbare brown cloak traded for something a little more . . . familiar. “In Jeonghan’s clothes?”

You stared at him incredulously, the pitch of your voice going up with the end of the question.

Wonwoo peered down at his (or rather Jeonghan’s) outfit, a beige undershirt and loose green vest, and tugged at the front.

“Looks classy, doesn’t it?” he asked cheesily.

You scoffed and looked away.

“I don’t want to waste any time since it’s already late so I’ll cut to it,” Wonwoo stood up, his long legs stretching high above you. Extending a hand in your direction, he tilted his head coyly and smirked. “Wanna go to town with me? For a silly festival?”

. . . .

Despite the festival being half over, Wonwoo had insisted on both of you wearing masks – for safety of your collective identities, of course, not for childish celebratory reasons.

What would society think of the Southern Water Tribe princess running wild with the former lieutenant general of the Fire Nation military?

With the few coins in your silk pouch, you had hastily bought two at the first stall along the dirt road that came into view as you arrived in town: a white fox antelope one with red whiskers for him and a classic brown black badger mole one for you.

Admittedly, however, it was probably a bad decision on Wonwoo’s part as you were impossible to keep track of. The design of your mask was rather unoriginal – it seemed as if every other person was wearing the same one. Not to mention, the straps of his own were thin and slippery, the knot undoing itself in the all the commotion of trying to keep up with you.

You happily bounced from stall to stall in the marketplace, refusing to buy anything since you only had a few coins left, but mouth watering over steam buns and your eyes were wide with desire at colorful silk fabrics – the dye a rare deep shade of green. Over the drums and shouts, He thought he heard you muttering something about it being nice for making a new coat for Jeonghan.

It was cute, but tiresome. Wonwoo wasn’t sure how you had so much energy at such hours of the night. Then again, you had been waiting for this moment your entire life it seemed.

You had taken off again and disappeared into the crowd, just as Wonwoo felt his fox antelope mask slipping off for what felt like the tenth time in the last hour. Annoyed, he pulled it off, holding it by the tails of the ties and ran in the same general direction he had seen you go. He whipped his head back and forth, keeping his eyes peeled for any signs of you. The streak of white in your hair that framed your face was hard to miss most days, but you had tucked it all into a bun and again, that damn badger mole mask.

He grew anxious the longer he couldn’t find you. Each minute that passed meant another meter between him and you. Each meter made it harder to protect you if anything happened. Indeed you were supposedly destined to be a power waterbender, but currently, you were a very bad one. Your powers had been suppressed until recently and even then, you lacked the right scrolls and a competent instructor to harness your abilities to your best potential. Jeonghan shouting, "It's okay – just try again!" was rather not ideal.

Just as he was about to lose it, heat coursing down his arms, threatening to set the square aflame to just clear a way to find you, someone's hands wrap around his wrist. Wonwoo wondered just what beggar had the audacity to bother him now when he was busy.

Turning around furiously, a short but impactful (and loud) lecture prepared on the tip of his tongue, he was met with a person in a badger mole mask. This couldn’t quell his worry nonetheless – he had a fifty-fifty chance it could’ve been you or some annoying kid who lost their parents.

“Wonwoo?” the familiar sound of your voice echoed through the mask. You lifted it to get a better look at him. The sight of your plush lips, immediately bringing him relief. “Why aren’t you – oh!”

The firebender quickly pulled you into a tight hug. His eyes fluttered shut as he let out a breath against the exposed skin between your shoulder and your neck. Goosebumps rose along your spine at the gesture and you stiffened, too stunned to speak. Wonwoo never initiated skinship with you, let alone attempted to get close to you physically and emotionally. During dinner, he always made a point to sit across the table. If you were camping out in the forest, you both slept on either side of Jeonghan. When conversations got too deep into his past, his replies grew curt or he’d politely ask you to change the subject.

When walking up to him earlier, he seemed frazzled . . . maybe he was claustrophobic? Slowly and awkwardly, you raised a hand to pat his back in an effort to comfort him. You tried to look at him to get a better gauge of his mood to no avail.

“Hey,” you said softly in his ear. “You okay?”

Immediately, Wonwoo separated from you and pulled his arms back to his side. That seemed to have been effective enough to stun him back into reality. You noted how his fox antelope mask is sitting in his hand rather than on his face.

“Wonwoo?” you tried again. You took a step towards him.

For the third time tonight, Wonwoo took you by surprise again. He reached for your hand, slipping his fingers in between your own and giving you a tight squeeze. His touch full of affection and reassurance, but his surly expression suggested otherwise.

“Don’t do that again,” he said harshly. He was quick to change his tone when he noticed the frown forming on your face, however. “Just . . . running off and around. I don’t want to hold you back tonight, but I just need to be able to be close to you in case anything happens. Okay?”

You nodded, mumbling a small apology.

“I-I’m sorry for startling you,” Wonwoo stuttered in reply. He wasn’t used to apologizing, let alone for something so seemingly miniscule. “I was just . . . worried.”

It was out of concern, duty, and promise to Jeonghan, yet there was something about the way he held your hand and the tone of his voice that made your heart skip a beat when it shouldn’t have. Your face grew warm realizing he was still holding your hand. You wondered if he could feel the slick of your sweat forming on your palms.

A beat passed with bated breaths, the moment seemed to last an hour though it was fleeting for the life of the party that surrounded the both of you.

Realizing that he was still holding on, you quickly found an excuse to pull your hand away from him. It was nerve-wracking and not good for your heart.

“Let me help you with your mask,” you announced. You peered up at him briefly, offering him a tight smile, then reaching down to take it from him.

Wonwoo complied, nodding slowly and leaned over so you would have better access to his face. You didn’t expect him to come so close; you shrank back on instinct, eyes instantly flying to his lips sitting fingers-width away from yours. You silently scolded yourself for having such a reaction – letting your mind go there. Unconsciously pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, you lifted the mask to his face, making sure the parts aligned with his face. Your hands reached behind and twisted the strings together. Without much choice, your fingers carded through his hair as you tied off the bow, the tips of his hairs at the nape of his neck grazing against your skin.

“Done,” you announced as you tightened the knot.

He whispered a soft ‘thank you’ and stood up straight again. He reached over and pulled down your badger mole mask over your face. Though you couldn’t see his eyes through his mask, you’d like to imagine his eyes were narrowed in concentration as he adjusted it to better fit your face.

“Shall we?” Wonwoo extended his hand once more.

Your eyes flickered to his hand and then back to him; silently wondering if he was sure about all this hand holding thing.

As if he read your mind, he chuckled heartily and grabbed your hand. He didn’t say anything else; Wonwoo just turned around and gave you a sight tug, urging you to start walking next to him. Your footing stuttered a bit, knocking into his back slightly. You were quick to straighten yourself out and regain your footing to walk properly again.

This wasn’t the night at the Festival of the Badger Moles you were expecting – it was better (though you’d never voice that aloud).

. . . .

“You should wear this one,” Wonwoo said, gently shaking your interlocked hands.

You spun around from the display you were looking at to see him holding a gold encrusted pin with a jade crystal at the end. It was simple, but elegant. He handed it over to you, the accessory much heavier than you expected as you turned it in your palm.

You shook your head. “It’s nice, but I can’t.” You handed it back to him to place it back where he got it from.

“Why not?” he asked.

“It looks expensive,” you chortled. You leaned over and gestured for him to come closer. In a hushed voice you mumbled, “Let alone, would it make sense for a water tribe girl to be wearing a treasured piece from the Earth Kingdom?”

“Nonsense,” Wonwoo insisted. He lifted the pin into the air and admired it himself, a fleeting thought in his mind of how nice it would look in your hair. “You’re basically an Earth Kingdom citizen with how long you’ve lived with Jeonghan.”

“No,” you waved him off. You were growing uncomfortable, your eyes darting to find another attraction to attend to. You spotted a cart of steam buns and took a few steps away from Wonwoo. “C’mon, let’s go get some food.”

Wonwoo pulled you back and slipped the pin into your bun. He was glad you secured the fox antelope mask well. For once, he didn’t have to hold back the stupid grin on his face that seemed to only be reserved for you. He could only imagine how nicely it complimented your complexion. The decoration was subtle, but when the flames of the torch crackled when the heat became too much, the jade glowed prettily and illuminated the gold handle.

He wondered what it would look like under his blue flame.

“Wear it for me then?” Wonwoo asked.

As the minutes ticked by, the longer your hands were interlocked, the deeper you went into the city, the more your masks didn’t seem to be for the sake of privacy and safety, but to shield the feelings that painted both of your faces that neither of you could hold back that night.

Surprise, embarrassment, nervousness, happiness . . . what did these feelings mean altogether?

His words were apparent, yet seemingly cryptic. Each simple gesture and small request felt exponential.

By no means was he getting on one knee and asking you to marry him, but wearing a hairpin by his request felt burdensome – a promise that couldn’t be kept.

Once you left here, you weren’t simply a girl who roamed the Earth Kingdom anymore, but the Southern Water Tribe princess.

When you didn’t reply, Wonwoo plucked it out of your hair and handed it to the stall owner. He pulled out a few coins to pay for it.

“Wonwoo!” you exclaimed, a hand outstretched to stop the exchange from happening. The elderly woman running the shop halted and looked from Wonwoo to you, then to Wonwoo again.

“It’s okay, I’d like to buy it,” Wonwoo explained. When the woman handed it back, Wonwoo perched it in your hair again. “At least for tonight, wear it. It makes it easier to keep track of you.”

Your shoulders slumped over, your heart slowing down for the first time tonight.

So . . . it wasn’t out of affection. Bold of you to think it was.

“I’ll give it back at the end of the night,” you muttered awkwardly.

“No need,” he chirped as you crossed the street.

“But–”

“Consider it a souvenir,” he explained matter-of-factly, though little did you know there was a gentle smile dancing on his lips behind the mask. “A keepsake from a firebender you once knew.”

It was only in the Earth Kingdom where Wonwoo and you could exist just as you are and together after all.

Simply, a firebender and a waterbender.

. . . .

You were a waterbender by birth, but an earthbender by heart.

Wonwoo came to this conclusion as he stood to the side and watched you dance happily with the little boy in the town square. Stepping to the beat of the drums, you held onto the skirt of your tunic and placed your palm gently against the little boy and the two of you stepped counterclockwise. Though there was a lightness to your step, the way you moved your limbs were stiff and poignant, contrary to the fluidity of other waterbenders he has met.

Had he met you under different circumstances, he would’ve never guessed you were one. It must’ve been from years of watching and combat training with Jeonghan, he figured.

As the symbols clanged together, announcing the end of song, you bid the little boy goodbye. Giggling, you ran over to Wonwoo and took him by the crook of his arm and dragged him towards the center.

“Join me,” you told him.

“Y/N, I can’t – I don’t know this routine,” Wonwoo protested. He pulled his arm back, though you didn’t let go.

“It’s simple,” you declared, “I’ll teach you.”

Wonwoo stood stiff and unmoving, pausing. The drum master began to beat his mallet against the canvas of the instrument again, announcing the next song again. You didn’t seem to be in a rush, however. You pulled him closer to the edge of the dance floor, undoing the knot of your mask and pulling it off to reveal shining, hopeful eyes.

“Never heard of a firebender who can’t dance,” you teased.

His eyebrow quirked, shocked that you even remembered.

“If earthbending is about listening to your opponent, firebending is like dancing with the enemy,” Wonwoo explained as he stood next to you, angrily staring at the river – as if you stared hard enough, you could lift a droplet. It was shortly after Jeonghan had revealed the truth of your identity. Though there was still an element of disbelief, part of you wanted to put his word to the test.

“Don’t you have anything you could compare waterbending to?” Wonwoo asked.

“Not when I’ve never met another waterbender,” you grumbled.

“Is that a challenge, princess?” Wonwoo asked in a low voice.

You smirked and took two steps back. Following the other women in the crowd, you curtsied towards Wonwoo and extended a hand for him to take.

And he accepted.

Facing the opposite direction, you stepped in line with him. “Just follow my lead.”

The two of you circled around each other, following the rhythm of the song.

Two steps away, then three steps toward each other. You reached for Wonwoo’s hand, gently settling it in the small of your back in preparation for a spin.

Like a light of a flame, however, the firebender seemed to have other plans.

He pulled you close until your chests were flushed. He leaned in, trying to better see you through the slits of the mask. It was a full moon tonight – he could see the pearl-like orb reflecting off the corners of your own eyes. There was confusion, perhaps fear as well, that glistened in your wide gaze.

Wonwoo didn’t like the way the mask limited his view. Without a thought, he tugged one end of the bow you secured earlier and the mask clattered to the concrete beside the both of you. A sense of satisfaction filled his chest, knowing that tonight, there was nothing in between him and you.

His eyes traced along the bridge of your nose and rested on your plush lips that were held agape. Reaching up, he slowly traced your bottom lip with his thumb, then tapering off to the corner and following the curve of your cheeks.

He smiled – they were warm like his own.

Wonwoo felt the press of your hand against his chest, your throat bobbing up as you swallowed harshly.

“It’s your turn to spin,” you stammered.

He didn’t seem to be listening, mesmerized by something else – or rather someone, though you didn’t want to admit it to yourself. Wonwoo wasn’t holding on very tightly to you; rather, it was more of you who let yourself stay within his embrace, unwavering. When the flute reached its climactic note, you pushed him roughly and stepped away.

He was supposed to twirl in the opposite direction, but his position was less than optimal for the move. His feet stumbled over one another and he sailed backwards as he started losing his center of gravity.

The music ceased as everyone watched on in terror.

There was a sickening crack of a crate, but thankfully, the landing was cushioned. Wonwoo wasn't sure by what, but it was better than landing on the concrete.

"My cabbages!" a husky voice shrieked behind him. It was followed by a string of cursing. Wonwoo could make out the sound of your laughter nearby.

He peeled open his eyes to find himself amidst a pile of wood and well, cabbages.

That would make sense. Cabbage were dense enough to hold his weight, but still soft enough to land a blow.

Wonwoo was rubbing the back of his neck when you suddenly came jogging over and grabbed his wrist.

"Run!" you hissed at him. A grin graced your face, tears from laughter steaming in the corner of your eyes.

For the first time in a long time, Wonwoo was happy.

. . . .

“Try it – they’re tasty,” you explained. You handed him the skewer with the last candied fruit.

He stared at it suspiciously to tease you, before peering up at you again.

“Try,” you giggled, pushing his hand towards his mouth.

After the cabbage cart accident, the two of you had decided to call it a night, purchasing some late night snacks at the edge of the festival and seeking refuge on a hill that oversaw the city. Though the celebration had come to an end, neither of you wanted to go back to the hostel just yet, hoping to hold onto the last few pieces of freedom and whatever was blooming between him and you.

Since then the teasing and the laughter hadn’t stopped; Wonwoo even found himself chuckling along every now and then. The jokes cracked weren’t even funny, perhaps it was the sugar from all the candied fruit you bought, but at some point neither of you really knew what you were laughing about.

Without knowing it, you both were running on giddiness, and just maybe, love.

If Wonwoo could describe it, it was that same fluttery happiness and breathtaking feeling he had when he was seven and had a crush on his friend. She was a blurry memory, he couldn’t even remember what she looked like, but the emotions associated with her were timeless.

“Thank you.”

Wonwoo looked up to find you settling against the root of the tree next to him. You let out a long breath and rested your head against his shoulder. As if it was already second nature, Wonwoo shifted to better accommodate you and lifted his arm to wrap around your shoulder. You snuggled into his hold, molding yourself into his side.

“Thank you,” Wonwoo replied. He pressed his lips into your temple. You tensed at the act, though quick to relax, eyes fluttering shut.

“What are you thanking me for?” you mumbled. “You’re the one who snuck me out.”

Wonwoo hummed softly and looked off into the distance. The torches and lanterns around Omashu made it glow gold, reminding him of the hairpin in your bun. The mailing system was even lined with colorful fabric, he could see. If he was quiet enough, he could still hear the lingering slivers of children shouting and hearty laughters in the distance.

“Just . . . because,” Wonwoo replied. He paused. “I’m happy.”

He felt you snaking your arms around his waist, hands clasping together at his hip.

“Can we just stay like this for a while?” you asked, lazily. “Happy?”

Closing his own eyes, he gave your shoulder a squeeze of reassurance. He relaxed against the tree and huffed.

“Just for a little while.”

. . . .

Bonus:

“A little while” turned into the rest of the evening into the early morning.

You woke first with sun shining through the leaves of the oak tree hanging overhead and blinding your sleepy vision. As you returned to reality, the birds chirping and shouts from the marketplace entering your ears, you slowly started to realize your current predicament.

Wonwoo and you snuck out.

Wonwoo and you spent the whole night together.

Wonwoo and you fell asleep on the hill.

Wonwoo and you didn’t go home.

Jeonghan.

The two of you were so screwed.

“Wonwoo!” you shook the said male, “Wonwoo! Wake up!”

He groaned, raising his limbs to stretch over his head, though his eyes remained sealed shut.

“Wonwoo, we have to go,” you urged, “Jeonghan’s gonna murder us!”

It seemed as if the elderly earthbender’s named held some sort of deadly edge to it as Wonwoo’s eyes shot open and he too began scrambling.

“Not a word about this to Jeonghan,” you warned him as you laced your hands together and took off in a run. “I’m never hearing the end of it if he knew I spent the night with you.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing?” Wonwoo teased.

“Jeon Wonwoo!”

. . . .

“So,” Jeonghan stroked his beard. He paced back and forth in his and Wonwoo’s quarters while the two of you kneeled before him in apology. “You’re telling me that you woke up at the crack of dawn to go to town for soup ingredients, but you forgot your money pouch?”

“Yes,” you replied curtly. You nodded once, keeping your eyes trained on the floorboard.

“Interesting,” Jeonghan noted and turned to Wonwoo. “You don’t have anything to add, Mr. General?”

“I do not, sir,” Wonwoo answered.

Jeonghan whipped out his wooden cane and pointed it in between your eyes. You startled, though you remained in your kneeling position. In the corner of your eye, you could see that Wonwoo was looking on anxiously. Jeonghan never resorted to corporal punishment with you . . . he wouldn’t now right?

Jeonghan extended his cane a little further and poked at your hip, causing a jingling sound.

Not of bells that decorated your outfit, but rather . . . coins.

“Your pouch is full of money here,” Jeonghan said matter-of-factly.

“Uh, she didn’t have enough,” Wonwoo added.

Jeonghan cocked an eyebrow at the younger man and walked over, poking his hip as well. “And you didn’t think of lending her some? Also, why are you wearing my clothes? I admit, my sense of fashion is impeccable, but flame boy, this doesn’t really suit you.”

The both of you were running out of excuses as Jeonghan waited for a response. Per usual, it didn’t take much for you to crack under Jeonghan’s pressure – even when it was your idea to lie to him that Wonwoo and you went to town in the morning.

“I’m sorry, Jeonghan!” you exclaimed. Your forehead was planted on the ground now. “Wonwoo and I went to the festival without telling you and then we fell asleep on the way home and are just coming home now. I’m sorry!”

There was a long pause before Jeonghan answered, or rather, he laughed at you.

Slowly, you sat up, confused. Wonwoo looked equally as puzzled.

The old man was hacking up a cough now, clutching his stomach in humor.

“D-did I miss something?” you sank back on your heels.

“No, silly girl!” Jeonghan managed to say in between breaths. He did his best to quell his laugh, though his shoulders still bounced happily. Wiping the corners of his eyes, he continued, “I told you were allowed to go if Wonwoo agreed to go with you, didn’t I? I was just pulling at your leg when I made you kneel.”

“Yoon Jeonghan,” you growled, preparing to launch yourself at the old man.

Just as he was about to step out of the room, Jeonghan quickly added, “That said, neither of you are still allowed to sleep with each other as long as I am alive. I’ve never been a third wheel in my life and I’m certainly not starting now.”

"Hey!"

"Yah!"

#wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen scenarios

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roadkillremi · 7 months

Text

Kinktober '23

7 out of 11

Voyeurism

Stu Macher X F!Reader

MasterList. Kinktober '23

Summary : after telling Stu your wildest fantasies, he tells you his. Characters are 18+

Warning : MINORS DNI, Smoking Weed, Mentions Riding, (Consented) voyeurism, masterbation, mural masterbation, language, slight knife play, blow job, face fucking.

I had lots of fun writing this one

When you dated Stu you knew he was quite... Romantic. You didn't know about his little fantasies. You were sitting on his bed messing with his hair. His head rested on your thigh as he smoked a joint.

"Do you ever have.. sexual fantasies?!" He looked up at you with a wide smile. You smirked, "Why?". He shrugged, "Maybe I wanna try it".

You leaned back balancing yourself with your arms. Stu sat up holding his blunt between his fingers. He had a toothy smile and leaned forward towards you.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours.." he offered you his joint. You took it, you took a swift inhale feeling it spread to your lungs. Stu leaned forward hinting at shotgunning. You leaned forward, holding his chin still blowing into his mouth. He inhaled and smiled, "You're so hot when you do that."

You laughed softly handing him his joint back. You looked towards the doorway, "Won't your parents smell the weed?". He sighed looking towards the doorway, "They're on another vacation.". You looked towards him, sympathy written all over your face. He placed his joint on an ashtray on his nightstand. He leaned towards you giving you a small kiss.

"Don't feel bad.. it's the only way we can have so much fun." He kisses you again. You smirk wrapping your arms around his neck. He grabbed your waist pulling you on top of him laying down.

"I'm not riding you if that's what you're hinting at-" you groaned. He smiled, "No! I wanna hold you!". You give him a look, he breaks out a wide toothy grin and sticks out his tongue.

"Maybe I wanted that too!"

You pushed his shoulders down playfully. He scoffed, "What?!". You sigh, "Let's go back to talking about fantasies instead.". He hums picking his joint back up, "Go ahead". You sigh, "You... I know you've seen scary movies with Billy-".

"Yeah..".

You bite your lip trying to figure out a way to explain it. He waits taking a hit from his joint.

"Uh, so you know how there's a final girl?" You ask. He nods, "If this is a film lesson. Go to Billy or Randy-" he laughs. You sigh getting frustrated, he notices and stops laughing.

"Sorry, continue.".

"I.. I wanna be a final girl.. for you.." you slowly say it. He processes the words and widens his eyes.

"That's great!" He sits up.

"huh?"

He puts his joint back down, his hands quickly go to your hips. He excitedly smiles, "my fantasy is.. stalking you.. and.. watching you be.. all naughty, y'know?". He leans closer squeezing your hips. You gently slid your hands up his arms.

"Really?".He nods excitedly leaning in to kiss you.

That's how Stu came up with his little code calls. He'd randomly call you at night saying certain lines. If you responded like how he told you it was a yes.

You were busy putting up laundry as your phone rang in your room. You picked up the phone putting it to your shoulder.

"Hello?" You walked over to your bed the wire extending.

"Hey, baby!" Stus voice boomed. You smiled, "Hey!". You put your folded shorts in a basket carrying it to your dresser.

"Whatcha up to?" He cooed

"Laundry, you?"

"Boring... I was.. about to go on a walk" you could hear the smile on his face. You smirk looking out your window. It was your parents date night they should be gone for awhile.

"Id love to join you, Stuey.." you bit your lip. He let out a small victory 'yes!'.

"It'll be a 15 minute stroll-" he added hanging up. You panicked looking at your clothes. Fifteen minutes?! You weren't going to be ready by then. You quickly put your phone back and opened your window. You put a tank top and pajama shorts on and made your bed. You sighed crawling into bed trying to steady your heart rate. The phone rang again, you got up answering it.

"I'm here.." he hung up. You smiled to yourself putting the phone down. You looked into your mirror putting red lipstick on. You heard shuffling in the bushes, you glanced over with a small smile. You walked over to your bed laying on it.

Stu watched you from outside, his eyes traced every inch of you. The way you put the lipstick on that he bought you. The pop of your lips once you finished putting it on.

You now laid out on your bed running your hands up your torso. Stu grinned, he knew you were putting on a little show just for him. He watched your hand go over your shorts. You let out soft whimpers as you rubbed circles over your clothed clit

Stu quickly unzipped his fly bringing himself out. He breathed heavily holding his penis in his hand. He watched as you spit on your fingers, he copied you imagining his spit as yours. Your hand slid into your shorts, he slowly started pumping. He followed your pace only going as fast as you did. He groaned wanting your hand on him.

He watched you desperately pump your fingers into yourself. He stepped closer to your window. You softly moaned out his name as you squirmed to your touch. Whimpers of 'Stu' flooded out your mouth. He caved in crawling through the window pulling out his pocket knife.

You stopped backing into your head board. He smirked pointing his knife at you, "No no no... finish what you started..". You nodded going back to fingering yourself. He smiled reaching for your shorts pulling them down. He leaned down pressing his thumb against your clit. You whined backing away from the touch as your stomach coiled.

He smirked, "Such a stupid girl, leaving her window open..". You stared up at Stu, "Anyone could come in... And hurt you". He smiled and laughed a bit, "come here.". He moved his head to the side motioning you to come forward. You crawled towards him looking up at him.

"Be a good girl and suck me off..". You looked down at cock, you nodded. He put his knife under your chin, you opened your mouth for him. He pushed his hips forward shoving himself into your mouth.

He let out a long 'fuck' before grabbing your hair. He pushed your head down feeling you gag a bit before pulling it back up. He chuckled, "Do you like being face fucked?". You just stared up at him, he smiles.

"Well I hope you do..". He pushed your head back down. He continued to make you gag on him laughing at your smeared lipstick. Watched as your face became a complete wreck.

Puffy lips, swollen cheeks, lipstick smeared across your lips and his cock. He smiled holding your chin, "That's a good girl.".

Tag list - @stusdollface93 @hurlonsororitygirls @sanzumylovee @katie-tibo @horneybeach1 @ithinkitszeph

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galaxywarp · 5 months

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Small tip that has been helping me SO much with this cleanup: get a decent sized box and designate it for “stuff that is going to eventually go somewhere else”

I frequently get overwhelmed looking at the pile of stuff in front of me. Breaking it down into gradually smaller and smaller piles is the only way I stop myself from just shuffling the same clutter around in circles trying to decide where to put it.

So when im focused on just one area, i get a box that is literally just for “other stuff”. Add that in with a basket for dirty clothes and some trash bags, and now the process is much more straightforward:

Pick up an item. Is it trash, dirty clothes, or something else? Now I only have 3 choices. Put it in one of those. Move on to the next item. Repeat.

Then once the laundry is in the washer and the trash is all bagged, now I can look at the box of stuff and break it down even more. Okay, this is a charger. Let’s put all wires and chargers over here. This goes in the bathroom. Here’s my bathroom pile. Etc.

And if im tired for the day, i can put my box of “other stuff” to the side and start again tomorrow. But all of the stuff is now out of my way and i can see my floor again.

#I had to force myself to stick to this system cuz I noticed myself just. keep picking stuff up and putting it back down somewhere else #like Oh well this needs to go in the bathroom but first I need to clean the bathroom #no. box it. leave it for later. just put it in the box #it sat on your floor for six months. you’ll be fine if it’s in a box for two days

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wordstro · 10 months

Text

[1] sector one: post-apocalypse au + mingi + “welcome to sector one.”

a/n: 4k words, gender neutral reader as always, mingi x y/n, descriptions of death, technically a sequel so there will be references/easter eggs to what happened in the previous fic however this can be read as a standalone, su1cide mentions/descriptions of the aftermath of one, post-apocalypse/dystopia-typical violence, aliens, thriller/suspense genre, baker!yn

series masterlist | part 2

the end of the world wasn’t so bad.

not when you had nothing going for you back before the Invasion. you were up to your eyeballs in debt, never had a place to call home thanks to running from loan sharks and dealing with greedy landlords hiking up rent prices, and you’d barely had time to make friends let alone date anyone seriously.

the worst part, you knew, was that your parents were wonderful. you had no deadbeat father or mother. no terrible childhood. no issues. they supported you through your school as much as they could, and they sent you opportunities whenever they could. your father even learned how to use kakaotalk properly to keep in touch, sending you selfies and encouraging texts whenever he sensed you were struggling. they even offered to help you pay off your debt. you’d refused. they needed the money, too. you had a wonderful support system, yet you still struggled. whoever said money did not buy happiness clearly never lived paycheck to paycheck.

you loved your parents, and they were the only people you’ve ever truly loved. they were the only people you ever really knew.

but they did not live in the city, and when you’d escaped the city after the initial Invasion - it took you a week of sneaking and crawling through back alleys just to end up hot wiring an abandoned car at the outskirts of the city - you drove to your childhood home. you’d pulled into the dirt path leading up the the old lopsided house with a heaviness in your heart, wary of the eerie emptiness. during the day, your mother often left the windows open to air out the house. all the windows were shut right, curtains drawn. you’d unlocked the door and watched as the door swung open, knocking into the shoe rack with a dull thud in the tiny threshold up into the kitchen and living room. your mother was never the neatest, so the basket of laundry on the kitchen counter, folded perfectly, sent a chill down your spine. your father always locked the liquor cabinet, but the scratched wooden door swung open, creaking on its hinges. you'd brandished the crowbar you'd found in the trunk of the car you stole, your hands trembling, as you stepped into your house and searched the two small bedrooms down the hallway. the bedrolls were tucked into the corner, pillows laid neatly atop of them. your mother’s little table that usually spilled over with products was spotless. the kitchen was the cleanest you’d ever seen it. your room remained as you left it, childhood band posters and all. the only thing that was off were the two soju glasses and the two plates of food - half eaten and rotting, flies buzzing - on the table in the living room. four soju bottles sat lined up on the table. all empty. you'd gone out back, to the tiny workshop you'd saved up to buy your father a few years back.

the garage door would always be open, but this time the door was shut. there was the faint smell of gasoline in the air. you'd stepped closer, your heart beating heavily against your chest, and with closer inspection you found your father’s pickup truck parked neatly inside. he never parked it inside.

the garage door was not locked, and the sound of it groaning as you dragged it open echoed. it made the hairs at the back of your neck stand on end. but the worst part, you thought, was the smell. it smelled like something had died, and your breath grew heavy in your chest at that thought as you choked on the lump in your throat, pressing your fingers to your mouth to suppress an involuntary sob. you did not have to look. deep down, you knew the outcome that awaited you at the other end of the garage. but you were always one to dig. to want to know everything, no matter how badly it'd hurt you.

that day, you found your parents dead in the front seat of their pickup truck, the windows cracked open slightly, the garage smelling heavily of exhaust smoke, gasoline, and death. the keys were still in the truck. they looked as if they could have been sleeping, heads resting on the other. you'd gagged still, and ran from the garage, heaving for air.

you'd found yourself in your childhood bedroom, back pressed to your closed door, surrounded by a room still stuck in the past, before all this, and you lamented the fact that even now, you could not cry. you’d been so focused on survival for so long, that you just did not know how to cry. all you could was lay on the floor of your childhood bedroom, stare at the ceiling, and wonder what you were supposed to do now. you'd never had so much time to just...sit.

still, despite the lack of tears, you allowed yourself the night to grieve. to feel sad, at least, only because you knew that was what you were supposed to do. then you'd raided your parent's pantry for anything edible and packed extra clothes, books, a couple tools, and a carefully folded photo of you and your parents. you threw it all in the backseat of your stolen car, taking one last look at your childhood home, before you drove. your vision blurred from lack of sleep, and your heart ached, and you did not know where you were going. you just knew you needed to put as much space between yourself and your parents as you could.

the weather was beautiful and the sky was blue, cloudless, and you hated that the breeze kissed your cheek so gently as you left. you wanted so badly to cry then. to sob. you would not learn to cry again u til much later, but this was perhaps a start. as you drove, you realized you had time to think. for the first time in your life, you had time to think and feel and wonder what to do. you had all the time in the world. the thought was more freeing than you wanted to admit, yet you did not feel entirely guilty for it.

after the Invasion, you decided to spend your time looking for food. you spent a lot of time thinking, and living, and learning about yourself and your wants and needs, and for the first time in years you felt as if you could just simply exist. for the first time in years, you sat down and cried. it was perhaps a month or two later, after you’d barricaded yourself in an empty apartment for the night and you happened upon a locked bedroom. you’d opened it with a hairpin, and immediately regretted it - it was merely an empty nursery, but there was a wall of family photos, and you found yourself examining each picture until your knees buckled beneath you and you cried for the first time in decades.

as you drove from ghost town to ghost town, and eventually walked because your car ran out of fuel, you found that the end of the world wasn’t so bad. sure, whatever was in the fog at night was terrifying, and the scratching and screaming and clicking noises at night made you skin crawl - it was a sound you heard everywhere the night of the Invasion, leading you to conclude that the only explanation had to be an Invasion. of what? you had no idea, and, frankly, you did not want to know. your curiosity certainly did not extend that far - not when the things hanging in the sky made the hairs at the back of your neck stand on end.

sure, some of the other survivors you met while you stocked up on food and weapons were, frankly, unsettling as fuck. but you were a quick learner and you knew to stay out of trouble - you always had since you were a kid - and, maybe, the end of the world and whatever Invaded the planet didn’t have to matter in the grand scheme of things.

maybe, you could ignore it.

all you had to do was survive.

for years, you befriended groups of other survivors and then fled when things started to get too intense. you stayed with one group until they started tracking other survivor groups down on purpose, and their intentions went from stealing things your group needed for survival to so much worse. the moment you caught a smug, almost-excited glint in one of the men's eyes as he told your group that a small group consisting of mostly women and children were camped out in the woods further north, you'd gathered your things and ran as far as you could.

another group wanted to create a safe haven for survivors and started talking about settling, hope marring their expressions. you’d fled in the middle of the night with just enough supplies to keep you afloat until you found some other place to squat in or some other group to gain temporary protection from until the cycle began again.

you kept yourself quiet and easy to digest, but not weak, never weak. you had to make yourself useful, of course, so the groups wouldn't feel like they were taking on a burden, and you did not want to be an easy target. however, when one group you met kept calling you pretty, when their eyes held a glint that sent shivers down your back, and their lingering touches made you want to gag, you’d ditched that group that very same hour, and you did not feel an inkling of guilt as you took their biggest weapon and the precious ramyun packs they’d found two towns over. you’d run far, far away from that group, in case they decided to come looking for you. after that encounter, you kept your head down and made it a point to leave a group at the first sign of trouble. you refused to get attached, or worse.

until you stumbled upon a place with a purple flag fluttering over a tower and sturdy walls and the sounds of people laughing drifting out from the walls and military trucks. something akin to hope fluttered at the pit of your stomach, a dangerous thing to feel, but inevitable as you stared down at the walls to a settlement that looked and sounded too good to be true. you wanted to turn away, but you were tired and you hadn’t found an inkling of food for nearly a week. so you stepped over the hill with your hands raised in surrender.

a beautiful woman with dark eyes, inky black hair, and an air of cheerful authority that entered the room long before she did, met you in the small room they'd isolated you in for. she introduced herself as joy - a fitting name really, especially when she smiled. her voice was gentle and soft, airy even. she was like a breath of fresh air. it left you wary, despite your exhaustion and hunger.

she stood between you and the door. she seemed to be waiting for you to speak. when you remained silent, she only smiled, "where are my manners? welcome to sector one. we've been attack-free for one hundred and ninety-two days."

you'd blinked at that admission.

"how?" you croaked, your throat dry.

she waved a hand, and the guard at the door brought a small mug of water to where you sat. you’d stared at it. she reached over and took a sip of it herself, before she handed it to you. it wasn’t drugged, at least, so you gulped it down.

her voice was so soft, kind, as she waited for you to put the mug down, "if you wish to stay, i'll tell you. otherwise, i only hope you enjoy your stay."

"i..." you'd blinked, "i can leave?"

she'd smiled, and although her smile was genuine and wide, contagious almost, it did not reach her eyes. despite the years of living in a post-invasion world, you knew a customer service smile when you saw one.

she said, "this isn't a prison. you may stay for as long as you'd like. as long as you help out and clean up after yourself, that is."

you were not sure if you believed her, but you did not question it. instead, you introduced yourself.

joy smiled.

~.~.~.~.~

you meant to only stay for a little while. you had half a mind to find the supply room, steal the best they had to offer, and sneak away in the middle of the night. this was only supposed to be a short term stay anyway.

but joy, with her sweet smile and piercing gaze, sat down beside you during dinner your second evening and asked, “what did you like to do before the aliens?”

“i don’t know,” you’d shrugged, “i didn’t have much time to figure out what i liked.”

she raised a brow, “why?”

“i worked a lot. needed the money.”

“understandable,” she laughed, but her smile grew sad, "you’ll have to earn your keep during your stay. i only wanted to place you somewhere you’d enjoy."

“that’s…” you frowned at her, “kind of you.”

“they don’t call me joy for nothing,” she said with another small smile. then she squeezed your shoulder and waved goodbye, moving onto another table.

you’d been assigned all over the compound after that.

laundry and weapons and scouting and teaching and cleaning and the kitchens. you found you liked baking. you were kneading dough, with flour all over your hands. you hadn’t noticed joy enter the room until she tapped lightly on the entrance to the kitchen. you looked up, and joy leaned against the door frame, grinning, a hint of excitement in her airy voice, “i think we finally found something you like.”

you blinked back tears at the kind smile. you were beginning to think you’d never know what you liked, that you were incapable of remembering something so menial. for once, you could relax.

joy only smiled, and turned on her heels, leaving you alone. after that encounter, however, you were assigned most of your shifts in the kitchen, and for once you enjoyed getting up to go to work.

you should have known you’d end up staying then. it was difficult to give up a place that seemed safe from the things in the fog and in the sky. that first night, after the sun set, you were on edge, worried you’d get devoured or torn apart by whatever lived in the thick fog that engulfed the world. instead, the compound was peaceful, quiet. distant clicks were just that: distant.

you wondered what kept the monsters away. perhaps it was military equipment - that would explain the military cars. perhaps it was something else. either way, you were safe here, and you knew you’d be an idiot to throw something as precious as safety away. you’d always remember sitting in your tiny apartment that first night, with the door barricaded and a symphony of screams echoing all around you. the horrors on the television, of the live news broadcast showing the news anchor at the scene, talking one second, before she looked up. the pure terror in her eyes as a sudden shadow loomed over her like a dark cloud, and her scream that followed after before the camera was knocked to the ground would remained etched in your memory. a loud keening echoed through your apartment before the television turned to static. you saw something on that television that night, but you did not know how to explain it. you couldn’t even truly comprehend it. it was black, and long, and it had your instincts screaming at you to get far, far away. yet, you had no idea what to call it. you didn’t have the time to figure that out either, compartmentalizing the memory as neatly as you could. you meant to deal with it later, but as many of the things in your life did, it fell to the wayside and you never got to unpacking it.

during those first days, you’d established two rules for yourself. one: no going out after sunset, and, two, no getting attached to anyone or anything.

easy rules, really.

but then you stood in front of joy, and you said, “i want to stay.”

~.~.~.~.~

a year later, and you are the head baker in the kitchens. most of the time, you figure out different bread recipes with what little ingredients you have available to you. sometimes, you get permission to make sweets - cream breads and cakes and mousses and cookies - and those are your favorite days.

to think the life you'd lived after you drove away from your family home was all you were going to have in this world. you truly believed that even then, despite the time to think and exist, you'd been living, when in fact you were only surviving. this past year was spent learning how to truly live.

despite a whole entire year, you still did not figure out much.

you like baking.

you do not know your favorite color.

maybe it’s green? or purple? pink? blue?

your sheets are a faded green. the shirt you gravitate towards is a deep blue. the only food coloring anyone's found on runs is pink, so your icing and decorations are always pink. you don't know what that means for you.

you don’t like jackfruit. there’s a couple trees growing in the greenhouse out back, past the weapons training tents and the exit used for scavenging groups.

you kind of like tangerines. a lot of them grow in the greenhouse.

you like joy. yeri is assigned as your assistant more often than not, and though she talks too much, you like her too.

you don’t know much else about yourself, and it’s a strange place to be in, where you are trying to just be but you do not have the capacity to do so.

“hey.”

you look up. a, frankly, beautiful man with pointed, delicate features and longer black hair hovers near the entrance of the kitchen, his hands stuffed in his pocket. his eyes sparkle under the bright fluorescent lighting.

Before the Invasion, he may have looked kinder, sweeter, but his eyes have a hardened look to them you've seen in everyone you'd come across since the Invasion. he's pretty though, unbelievably so despite the circumstances of life now.

his movements, however, are stilted, awkward, and you notice the way he fidgets with his fingers, even when he stuffs his hands in his pockets when he notices you looking at his hands.

you understand the fidgeting - you got into the habit of fiddling with the old pocketknife you swiped from one of the houses you'd holed up in long ago. maybe, he was the same. sector one allowed for everyone to carry small weapons like pocket knives, but no one was allowed to take them out. bigger weapons had to be signed out from the weapons room, and you could only use it in the training field or outside the walls. newcomers, however, were not allowed to carry anything for six months. you'd fidgeted a lot like him when joy had your pocketknife locked up.

"hey," you match his tone, watching as he shuffles from foot to foot before he meets your gaze. his hardened eyes hold more confidence than his body language. it's almost unsettling how steady his gaze is. "the pastry kitchen isn't open until after lunch, if that's what you're here for."

he blinked, his gaze flitting to your flour-covered fingers.

"oh," he said, "joy said...i thought it was open, sorry."

"did joy send you here?" you call before he can swivel away.

"yeah."

"okay," you draw out the word. perhaps it's your decades of customer service skills, or perhaps it's because you understand how strange it was to live in a place like this, after years of living beyond the walls, but you find yourself softening for him. "we have some pastries leftover from last night. what is this for? usually joy doesn't send anyone so early unless there's a good reason."

his eyes narrow in suspicion, "is that any of your business?"

you raise a brow at his biting tone. you get it, you really do, the mistrust and the caution. you get all of it. but you're the head baker, and there were plenty of newcomers here since you'd been appointed your position that could force at least a civil tone, despite their misgivings.

"yes, it is entirely my business," you responded, frowning at him. "do you really want to piss off the head baker at the only bakery in sector one?"

he tenses at your response, glancing away. he mutters something under his breath.

you cross your arms, "excuse me? i didn't catch that."

"sorry," he mumbles.

"it's fine. just don't do it again. i wouldn't want to have to start a wall of shame because of you," you respond.

he snorts a little, rolling his eyes, but the tension in his shoulders has lessened the smallest bit, at least. after a beat, he says, "my friend is upset, and i wanted to get him something to make him feel better. he's a big fan of anything sweet. joy said to come here."

"anything specific for...?"

"his name is mingi."

"sounds like a cookie type of guy."

the pretty man says, "he is."

"well, i have some baking right now, if you'd like to wait a few minutes," you wipe your hands on your apron, before you meet his steady, almost unsettling gaze, and you ask, "and what about you? what kind of pastry guy are you?"

"I don't really like pastries anymore," the man shrugs as he breaks eye contact with you. you get that, too.

"that's fair," you say.

he leans against the wall, and the room falls into silence. you take that as a sign to return to your work, kneading the dough before letting it settle in a small bowl. you already have a few loaves of bread done settling. you can feel his eyes on you as you work. you're not sure if you like it or not.

the oven beeps - you'd been shocked to find a working oven in a world like this, so shocked in fact that you did not ask how the electricity was so constant, or how the pastry kitchen was so state-of-the-art. the kitchen used to cook was down the hall, and it was much bigger, with more staff than this one.

you take the cookies out, and the smell of baked chocolate chip cookies fills the little pastry kitchen.

the man stares in awe - at least you think that is it with the way his eyes widen, twinkling slightly under the bright fluorescent lighting. he seems to be fighting a grin.

you ramble, as you wait for the cookies to cool, "one of the groups found a couple packs of chocolate chips in an underground bunker. i didn't think i'd have these again, honestly. everyone's going to lose their minds."

you look up, and the mans expression is twisted, his brows furrowed, and frown prominent.

he doesn't say anything, so you don't push it.

instead, you pick up a ceramic plate, and place two warm cookies on it. they're hot to the touch, even through the plate. you hold out the plate to him, and you say, "here's one for your friend mingi, and one for you..."

you trail off, waiting patiently.

"yeosang," he says, after a long moment. "it's yeosang."

"well, yeosang," you say, smiling as he takes the plate, "bring back the plate. washed. or i really will create a wall of shame just to put up a big picture of you."

he nods briskly, his other hand shoved in his pocket.

you don't know if you like yeosang or not.

#ateez scenarios #mingi scenarios #mingi #ateez angst #mingi angst #ateez #itpfl #sector one

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icyhottodo · 1 year

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[6:38 pm] ━ KIRISHIMA EJIRO

wc: 800> | genre: fluff

nini’s notes: let's imagine ipods are still popular (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

you were having an abnormally unlucky day today. you slept past your alarm, causing you to be late for your job and then being told off by your superior even though you were rarely ever late. and since you were late, you were too busy rushing around and missed your daily dose of caffeine, making you a bit more cranky compared to usual.

but even after all that, you decided to continue hanging out with your best friend!kirishima later in the day. not wanting to sour the mood for him. after a few minutes of being with him, everything started to lighten up, you forgot about your annoying boss, sleeping past your alarm, and almost everything that made you feel down. you two decided to eat out at a cool restaurant that just opened up. and then, of course, you guys had to get a dessert in the park after, kirishima was craving ice cream. and since your best friend was craving it, it was kirishima’s treat. but of course, with a day so unlucky, something had to go wrong for you.

after you ordered your preferred ice cream, you told kirishima that you were going to find a place to sit for the both of you, to which he agreed. but when you turned around, a man who was waiting right behind you was holding some sugary drinks, smashing into your clothes.

"oh, i’m so sorry!" the man apologized profusely, trying to get napkins to help ease the situation. you let the man know that it was okay since he didn’t do it on purpose and you weren’t mad at him. but once he left, you turned to kirishima with despair on your face.

"what am i supposed to wear now?" you whined, and even though you weren’t exactly angry, you felt frustrated at how many unlucky things had come your way today. and feeling the cold drink soak into your shirt didn’t exactly feel good.

you can see kirishima trying to think of any way to fix your problem. before his face brightens, making it known that he thought of a brilliant idea. he pulled his hoodie off his body, but as he was in the midst of doing that, your eyes widened. you notice that he was wearing a thin layer of shirt underneath his hoodie, but that isn't what caught your attention; you can see a small sliver of the bottom of his abs. making you avert your eyes in hopes of not thinking about kirishima’s toned chest any longer. did you like your best friend?

you knew your best friend was buff, but not this buff. your thoughts that have completely disappeared as to why he might be undressing in a park comes back as he hands you his hoodie. "here."

"really? won’t you get a cold?" you asked in disbelief. kirishima hasn't done anything "boyfriend-like" toward you before. when kirishima nodded to confirm it was indeed fine, you reluctantly put on his hoodie. you secretly loved this but didn’t know the exact reason why. you were instantly met with warmth and the scent of musk.

after that, you two went back like you were supposed to do—to look for a table while kirishima paid for the desserts. in a few minutes, you see kirshima walk up to you with a smile on his face and two ice creams occupying both of his palms.

you two continue to talk as the sun starts to set, which reminds you that you two should probably head home soon. kirishima offers to walk you home like the gentleman he is. after reaching your place, you bid goodbye to kirishima. he waits outside for a bit to see that you’re actually safe inside your home before he starts walking to his own place with an affectionate smile on his face.

while changing into your home clothes, you notice that you still have kirishima's hoodie, forgetting to give the clothing back to the redhead beforehand. you threw the hoodie into your laundry basket, but as you did that, something fell out of kirishima’s hoodie. it was kirshima’s ipod, along with his wired earbuds.

curious, you picked up the music device and wanted to see what kirshima’s music taste was like. but as you scrolled through, a playlist name caught your eye. the reason why was that it was a playlist kirishima made that had your name on it.

and when you went to see what songs were contained in that playlist, all you saw were either songs you recommended to him or love songs. your heart started to beat faster at the thought of your best friend liking you in a more romantic way.

you pulled out your phone to call the man who dropped you off five minutes ago.

"hello?"

"i like you too."

#this was lowk mid but ok #☆ MHA #bnha scenarios #mha imagines #mha x y/n #bnha imagines #my hero acedamia #kirishima x y/n #bnha kirishima #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #mha ejirou #kirishima ejiro x reader #ejirou x reader #kirishima ejirou

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lilolakes · 1 year

Text

Ekvillan - 'The oak villa'

Ekvillan is a spacious family villa inspired by swedish architecture from the turn of the last century.

I chose to call it 'Ekvillan' - 'The oak villa' in swedish, since there is a big oak tree in the garden. It has a vegetable garden, bees, a chicken coop, and a treehouse. There's plenty of cozy little spots to hang out and eat 'fika'.

Please note that this was built using cc. The lot is partially playtested. DOWNLOAD (SFS)

Some of the cc is included, the rest is linked below. The lot can also be fould on the gallery (ID: Lilolakes)

My lovely friend @zebrasimmer_ on Instagram had her one year instaversary recently, and to celebrate she hosted a little collab were we created different builds inspired by her (and also my-) home country - Sweden. This was my contribution.

Check out the other builds in the collab, by @zebrasimmer_ , @simsaga_ and @sims.erezkigal on Instagram.

Packs used

Ep:s All of the ones released before 2023 Game packs: Werevolwes, My Wedding Stories, Dream Home Decorator, Journey to Batuu, Realm of Magic, StrangerVille, Jungle Adventure, Parenthood, Vampires, Dine Out, Spa Day, Outdoor Retreat Stuff packs: Paranormal, Nifty Knitting, Tiny Living, Laundry Day, Vintage Glamour, Kids Room, Romantic garden, Spooky Stuff Kits: Country Kitchen, Courtyard Oasis, Decor to the Max, Everyday clutter

Required CC

Here are the links for all the cc required for the lot to look as intended.

This is my first time sharing a build using cc. I might have gone a biiit overboard with it, so it's pretty cc heavy. Sorry 'bout that! ;)

All credit goes out to the amazing creators! I have done my best not to miss anyone, and to respect all of the creators TOU. Please tell me if you notice something that I've missed!

Anniee sims -Area rug

ATS4 (Around the sims 4) -IKEA-like stepstool -Cereal box -Crate seat -Toy train set -Candle and old book -Grocery paper bag (the first one) -Harvestable aromatic plants, Basil, Rosemary and Thyme -Rocking toy alligator, Farm puzzle and blackboard -Preschool blocks and House

Charly Pancakes -The candle, moodbooster

conceptdesign97 -Pumpkin vine

Cowbuild -Pleated curved floor lamp and lazy loveseat throw pillow

Dew of the sea -Accordion wall rack, S4, unmerged

Fadedsprings -William Morris-ish wallpaper set

Felixandre -Grove part 1 -Grove part 2: bowls, cups and salad bowl -Grove part 3 -Grove part 4 -Kyoto part 2 -Berlin part 1 -Shop the look Season 1 -London set exterior

Harlix -Tiny Twavellers Binoculars, crocodile, hot air balloon lamp (short), swing (medium), hanging wall world map -Baysic (different items)

Harrie -Shop the look 2

Icemunmun at ModTheSims -Harvestable corn stalks

Leaf Motif at Curseforge -Wall lamp and vintage tiles

Leniad at ModTheSims -Pumpkin plant

Leosims -Carton of eggs

Lilis-Palace -Jugendstil tiles set -Folklore set

LittleDica -Deligracy Delicato Stuff Pack

MadameRia -Back to Basics Pot Holder (Wall version) and Wire Basket Dish Rack

Maman-Gateau at Sims Artists -Whicker basket with lid from this set

Mutske at TSR -Alda arch with private doors 2x1 -Alda arch 2x1 -Alda privatdoor 1x1

MXIMS -Ikea ypperlig table and mirror -Stokke high-chair -Aesop Bathroom Tray -Plants 1,2,6,7 -String Shelf System (Shelf B):

My cup of CC -Tiny dreamers set (merged)

Novvas -Pumpkins in a basket -Random Runners -Elo bathroom IKEA rug -Kids drawings from this set -Painting collection

Nutter-Butter-1 at ModTheSims -Old Floor Tile Set

Picture Amoebae -Allisas Fall '18 Panels

Pierisim -Oak house part 3 -Oak house part 2 -Rold Skov kitchen mini kit -Domaine Du Clos part 1 -Domaine Du Clos part 3 -Domaine Du Clos part 4 -The COLDBREW coffee shop pt 1 - 1/2 -The COLDBREW coffee shop pt 1 - 2/2 -The COLDBREW coffee shop pt. 2

Plumbob Tea Society -Deco Botanical Scroll, woodpile and raised garden beds

Raindrops on cowplants -Gothic revival build set

Severinka at TSR -big pumpkin 02 -small pumpkins 07

SimC (Simcredible designs) at TSR -Coastal Extras - daisy in tall vase

Simspell -Autumn & Spooky-ish Paintings (Part 1)

SixamCC -Birker Line ceiling light (different versions) -Small Spaces deco pantry items -Small Spaces Pantry CC Pack - Mixer (Standalone version) -Dreamy Outdoors floor light

Soloriya at TSR -Two candles -Collection of candles -Pencil sharpener and erasers

TaTschu -Lighted fence (Leosims recolor)

Tech Hippie -Plants from these two sets

Vintage Simmer -Patchwork set -Noah plush rabbit -SBP Octopus -L&C Plush lemon

Wondymoon TSR -Lybica Kitchen Hanger -Protactinium Rug

Wondymoon.com -Ceratonia kitchen counters 1 and 2, island counter, cabinets, corner cabinet and stove hood.

Credit for the cc included in the download: 13pumpkin, Aggressive Kitty, Aira-cc, Awingedllama, Baufive, DK Sims, Honeycuts , IllogicalSims, KKB, Linacherie, Meinkatz, Mio-Sims, Myshunosun, NynaeveDesign, Peacemaker IC, Pocci, Sanoysims, Sforzinda, Slox, Spirashun, Syboulette

Reshade used for screenshots: Dove 2.0 by Kindlespice

T.O.O.L-mod by Twisted Mexi was used to create this build. You don't need it to place the lot, but I recommend that you go check it out. It can be found here: https://twistedmexi.com

I hope you enjoy my build. Please tag me if you share any gameplay pictures from the lot, I'd love to see it!

♡ Lilolakes

#thesims4 #thesims4house #thesims4build #sims4build #sims4house #simblr #sims4cc #thesims #showusyourbuilds #thesimscommunity #ts4 #sims4housedesign #sims #simshouse #simstagram #ts4cc

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charmercharm3r · 2 years

Text

See Us Two

HJS

Masterlist

wc: 2.4k

Synopsis: Sometimes, words aren’t enough. Sometimes, words aren’t needed.

warnings: smut (though very brief and extremely vanilla), mostly just fluff

It was safe, here in your little bubble of bliss. The one bedroom apartment you’d found on the top floor of an old building was practically a warehouse because of how industrial it felt. Windows on random parts of the four walls, one leading onto the open roof space of the apartments that resides below yours. Looking at it from outside, it probably looked like a shithole. The closet space was so small, there was no washer or dryer, just about everything needed to be renovated or else the whole place might explode soon. But it was yours, a little corner of the world where you could escape and let yourself feel content without the outside caving in, looking for a way to break you down to skin and bones. At least, that’s how Jisung described it. He always had a beautiful way with words.

The green rooftop is where you stood now, hanging the white linen sheets on a wire you’d previously brought home to dry from the laundromat down the street. Jisung was sound asleep in your bed, tired from the days upon days he’d spent pouring himself into his work. It was a breezy spring afternoon, which he didn’t mind sleeping through and you didn’t mind letting him. He deserved the rest.

But the sun still bore through the hazy grid windows, somehow almost as bright inside as it was outside even with the sheer drapes you’d hung to lessen the rays. You liked waking up to the sunlight, it made it feel as though you were awakening on your own time, not society’s. A white sundress felt appropriate for the day, letting your hair down to run free in the wind.

The open window gave the perfect view of your sleeping boyfriend, stirring for a moment before hugging a pillow close to his chest. It awed you, how helplessly gorgeous he looked even in slumber, even when he was far away in dreamland and you were unfolding another sheet to hang and clip to a clothesline. The warm feeling in your chest was nothing compared to the sun as you walked towards the window and get a clearer view of him in total peace.

Reaching over the sill to grab the cup of hot water you’d made earlier, you sipped on it, leaning back against the railing and watching the sheets sway. It was a moment of tranquility you wouldn’t get back once the day was over and you had to return to the outside world.

Jisung shifted again, you heard the sheets ruffle and a pillow fall to the ground, followed by a tired groan. You didn’t turn around, sipping the hot water again and closing your eyes to really feel the cool afternoon air. Then your back became all too hot. But not the kind of warmth that came from the sun, a hot body was nearly pressing against your shoulder.

Jisung was awake, head now cradling into the nook of your neck as his arms snaked around your torso to pull you closer despite the window sill acting as a barricade. A low hum escaped him, soft lips placing lazy kisses to your bare neck and shoulder. “You’re up so early,” he grumbled.

You giggle, reaching a hand back to stroke his bed head. “It’s almost one in the afternoon.” The kisses traveled up, behind your ear and along your cheek, any exposed skin he could reach. “Too early. Come back to bed.” You were so tempted, wanting nothing more than to get lost in the sheets with him. But the wet linens that were sitting in the laundry basket beckoned for you to continue with the chore. He watched you eye it from behind the plaster barrier.

Just leaning away slightly and turning your head, you gave him a quick peck to the lips. “Let me finish hanging these, go back to bed. I’ll be there in a bit.” Another kiss and he let you go, albeit reluctantly and not without another parade of smooches.

You grabbed the wet laundry and tossed it over the clothesline, grabbing another wooden clip to keep it in place. The wind twisted the other sheets behind you, engulfing you in them. If the roof wasn’t only accessible through your front door, you’d have been startled by the hands that were gently grabbing your hips. Jisung peeked his head over your shoulder again, this time stepping around you and picking up one of the freshly washed pillow cases. He intentionally reached in front of you for the clips, head brushing against your chest and slightly nuzzling into your breasts. You giggled, placing a hand to his forehead and giving a kiss to the top of his hair, moving the tub of clips on the floor between the two of you just after. You didn’t notice he was just in a white shirt and his boxers until the breeze tossed the white sheets up again. It surrounded the two of you, almost as if the linens spoke and encouraged him to close the space between your bodies. He stepped in tighter, bringing a hand up to your cheek and holding you in place, “so beautiful.”

You wanted to savor him, every second his skin was on yours and every second your eyes stayed glued to one another, reading into the secrets of each other’s souls. You didn’t want him to let you go, but there was just one more pillow case to be hung, to which he took the liberty of finishing. The sheets blew against you as you drank in the sight of Jisung, honey-like skin illuminating against the pure white of his shirt and the sunlight. Your dress flowed with the laundry, whirling around the two of you in a fresh tornado of flower scented ivory threading.

He took your hand as soon as he’d clipped the last bit of laundry, leading you back inside to your beloved bed. The room was bright, though less so than the roof, perfect for a lazy afternoon nap even though he had just woken up. Jisung had no intention of sleeping. He just wanted to be near you, be able to inhale the way you smelled and be able to practically taste it because you were so close to him. It’s all he’s ever wanted.

You didn’t need to be coerced into stripping your dress off, it was a force of habit to not wear your outside clothes in bed— let alone any clothes in bed besides maybe a bra and a pair of panties. Jisung watched on his back as you slipped it down your body and let it fall to the floor, climbing almost completely naked into bed with him save for your underwear. He immediately sat up and readjusted you so that it was you on your back and head in the pillows. Not every intimate moment with him was sexual— the times where he’d sneak his head under your shirt while you brushed your teeth just to feel your skin on his. When he’d unclip your bra as you were on your stomach to place kisses down your spine, or now when he spread your legs to lay between them and rest his head on your naked belly, peering up at you through his lashes. It was like this for a while, fingers carding relaxingly through his thick hair as he matched his breath to follow your chest, up and down.

Safe. You were safe here, in your little bubble with Jisung. Safe until he started to place gentle kisses down your belly, skipping over the hem of your underwear to trail down the inside of your thigh and repeating on the other. His hands gripped under your knees, bringing them up to plant your feet firmly on the mattress. Your fingers didn’t leave his hair until he kissed his way back up, cupping his chin and making his look at you from between your legs. He looked even more ethereal than before, eyes big and glazed over in both exhaustion and horniness. You didn’t look away, smiling when he began to get shy and hide his face into the crook where your thigh met your core. “Sometimes I wonder,” you said softly, pulling his attention from playing with the hemline of your panties with his teeth. “Where do you end and where do I begin?” He smiled into the supple skin of your thigh, giving it one last kiss before trailing the tip of his tongue over your clothed heat.

He eyed the growing wet spot, taking in a deep breath of your arousal. “I’ve said it so many times,” he kissed the darkening spot, “I’ll say it forever,” fingers looping your underwear and pulling it down, “so, so beautiful.”

Jisung tossed the fabric somewhere, not looking as he licked his lips. You fingered through his hair again, not rushing him as he stared at your now sopping cunt as if it were the last thing he’d ever see. Feeling his warm breath on the sensitive area, you let out a moan. Jisung took this as his queue to dive in. He first kissed your throbbing nub, then let the tip of his tongue circle it, progressing to the entire wet muscle running a stripe along the whole of your cunt. The way he’d look up at you, eyes half lidded as he lazily lapped at you, it felt all too perfect, too surreal you were sure you’d awaken from a fever dream at any given moment.

A particularly good suck of your clit made you throw your head back and cry out, shutting your eyes as his fingertips traveled to your entrance. He teased it, gathering your essence to easily guide one finger into you. After a few pumps and you tugging harder on his hair, he added a second. You were in utter bliss, so sensitive under his touch. But having you cum around his fingers wasn’t his plan, little to your knowledge. As much as he loved when you came undone right in front of his face, into his mouth, he wanted more.

Jisung pulled away, leaving you moaning out his name from the sudden lack of skinship. He stripped off his shirt and found himself snuggling his head into your neck again, sucking languidly at the skin. You forced his boxers down, not even fully down his thighs before he was lining himself up with your core. “Just wanna melt into you,” you breathed into his ear. Groaning, Jisung hitched your legs higher around his torso and pushed into you.

There was little to no resistance, so slick and relaxed with him— around him. He became sheathed entirely in a matter of seconds, hands pressing hard into your thighs. You couldn’t help pulsing around him, feeling every inch of his cock sound and snug inside you. The two of you were a moaning mess without even a single movement, content with just being inside one another. “Being this close isn’t close enough,” Jisung spoke, though it didn’t sound as though he was speaking directly to you. His eyes were shut as he rubbed his forehead into your bare chest, his own chest contracting in a labored breathing. If only you could stay like this all day, if only time could stop in this moment and freeze the two of you, so encapsulated in one another and so lazily in love.

However the hunger got the best of you, making you contract harder in need. “Ji, please move,” you whimpered. It was gentle and unrushed the way he pulled out and pushed into you, going at a snail’s pace to memorize every time your walls fluttered around him. This what making love was, being at one another’s command so much that there were no other words that needed to be said, you both just knew.

You knew how to tug his hair just enough to make him shudder, how to massage the skin of his shoulders to draw him closer and make his hips stutter just the slightest bit. Whereas he knew how to get you to call his name with his fingers dancing along your clit, how to make you throw your head back in pleasure as his hands found yours and pinned them above your head. You didn’t need much else, squeezing his hands increasingly hard the closer you got to your high. Just as you, he was on the verge. Skin slapping and incoherent moans, slurred affirming words filling the dead space of the one apartment that Jisung built for you in his heart. It was easy enough to tell he was holding himself back from pumping into you, wanting to share the euphoria the same way you’d shared just about every other bit of yourselves. And with another deep pound, Jisung hit just the place you needed to topple into your climax, arching your chest into him as you ripped out his orgasm as well.

Jisung let his body weight fall on top of you for a second before rolling to the side, pulling you with him so he didn’t fall from your pussy. You could feel him beginning to soften, but it seemed as though he didn’t mind since he wrapped his arms around your neck and tugged you closer, gently kicking off his boxers. Though slightly sweaty, you inhaled deeply, hoping to engrave his scent into your brain. Your eyes began to shut, feeling him rub his cheek to your temple. “Still not close enough,” he whispered, making you giggle. “It won't ever be.”

“You would live inside me if you could,” your voice was getting quieter as sleep started to overtake you.

“Put me in your pocket and take me with you everywhere. Everyone would see you, but they’d really be seeing us two. Just wanna be with you always.” The post nut clarity always brought out his little secrets. Though they weren’t really secrets, more like confessions of love, the things he wouldn’t have the courage to say if you weren’t lulling into unconsciousness and thought it was just a figment of your imagination. But you always knew it was just so whollely him, Jisung putting his entire being on display in the form of words because he always had a beautiful way with words.

And as the darkness clouded you, he brushed your hair from your face and caressed your cheek, pressing one last kiss to your forehead. “Can’t tell where you end and I begin.”

A/N: no thoughts, head empty except for sleepy boy Jisung

-momo < 3

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #stray kids smut #stray kids angst #han jisung smut #han jisung fluff #han jisung angst #han jisung fanfic #han jisung x y/n #han jisung x reader #han jisung x you #skz fanfic #skz smut #skz fluff #skz angst

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