#.but i'm feeling a lil angst in me today

[witchtchr]

i have my goals today as i'm a little bit alive & will bug everyone with random questions in their inboxes, but...

like this post for a little starter from "the Witch"?

[aemondsbabe]

Taunt

obviously, i feel very normal and chill about ewan's new performance in saltburn. anyways lmao this is my version of michael gavey from the vibes i got from him in the 5 seconds he's in the trailer! i have no idea if this is accurate to how he is truly portrayed in the movie! if the movie comes out and i'm totally wrong, then i don't care bc i got to have fun writing about a cheeky lil oxford student!!

summary: you're nearly failing statistics and the student your professor asks to tutor you seems to gain a sick satisfaction from seeing you squirm; he hates you...or so think.

pairing: michael gavey x reader

warnings: mature, 18+ (minors, do not enter!!!) no use of Y/N, afab reader, profanity, smut, piv smut, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub, brief daddy kink (literally one mention), dirty talk, dumbification, humiliation (only a bit), size kink if you squint, mild angst but happy ending, choking i guess (barely), public sex (they're alone but like it's still public lmao), brief discussions of math -- please let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 10.5k (dear lord)

a/n: baby's first fic omg! if you enjoy this one and want to see more from me, please feel free to send in requests! (GoT, HoTD, Stranger Things, Marvel, etc!)

PRAISE | Taunt Part 2

MAKING AMENDS | Bonus

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Right, so,” Professor Davies began, pulling a thick textbook off the shelf next to his desk, “Since we’ve only just returned from Easter holiday, I thought I’d go easy on you today.” 

A few quiet groans could be heard around the room, a couple students turning to look at one another with grimaces; in the few weeks you’ve been in Professor Davies’s class, he’s never once gone easy on you. With a small sigh, you shuffle through your spiral notebook until you come to a blank page. 

“D’you think you’ll go to the party this weekend?” Louise whispers, leaning over closer to you as she twirls a pen around in her fingers, “I heard this one is supposed to be fucking insane.”

“Like any of Felix’s parties aren’t insane?” You whisper back, smirking as you doodle a small flower on the corner of a page of paper, “Of course I’ll be there,” you murmur, watching as Professor Davies writes an intricate formula on the chalkboard, “I could really use a break, anyway…I’ve been so stressed recently.”

“Christ…” A boy, in the row of desks in front of you scoffs, just barely shaking his head as he copies down the formula, his handwriting sharp and choppy. You feel blood rush to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes, staring intently at his sandy hair. You didn’t really know him, this being your only class with him, but you’d seen him around campus, regularly passing by him in the halls. Oxford may be a large university, but when you’re on campus everyday, you begin recognizing familiar faces. 

He didn’t run in the same crowds as you at all, and you got the distinct impression that he looked down on you and the rest of your friends, but you knew his name – Michael and that he was incredibly smart, his hand promptly shooting into the air anytime Professor Davies asked a question. In the few weeks you’d been in the same statistics class, you had yet to see him get a question wrong, watching as he grinned, cocky, everytime he was praised for correctly solving even the most intricate of formulas. 

You, on the other hand, couldn’t be more the opposite, always shying away and praying not to hear Professor Davies call your name in his deep, baritone voice every time his eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a volunteer, or victim, more like. While Michael clearly enjoyed the class, practically glowing with an arrogant confidence as soon as he walked into the wood paneled lecture hall, you were simply here to check it off as a requirement of your major, hoping to survive the class with a C and nothing more. 

It was annoying, you wouldn’t deny that, the way that smug smirk seemed to be permanently etched onto his face, how that stupid taunting glimmer was an ever-present fixture of his blue eyes — blue eyes which, seemingly, always managed to find their way to you, one way or another. 

His attention was intimidating at first, his cold stare leaving you unsure of what exactly his intention was. Was he trying to challenge you? Trying to determine if he knew you from somewhere else? A small part of you, a naive part, hoped that his staring was meant to be affectionate; he was cute, you’d admit it! Always showing up to class in cozy knit sweaters, his wavy hair still ruffled and untidy as if he’d just gotten out of bed, gold rimmed glasses perched atop a strong nose.

You quickly tear your gaze away from the back of Michael’s head, biting your bottom lip as you begin copying down the problem on the chalkboard, pausing briefly when you see, from the corner of your eye, his head turn as he glances at you over his shoulder. You felt your cheeks flush despite yourself, that small, sanguine voice in the back of your head cheering. 

“Now, then,” Professor Davies booms, dropping the textbook down on his desk with a cacophonous thud before sweeping his eyes across the classroom, “A bit of review before we really dive in…” He continues, pacing around the front of the room as he explains the various parts and pieces of the equation on the board. 

“What do you think you’ll wear?” Louise asks, leaning over once more to whisper in your ear, you can smell her signature floral perfume on her hair, “I was thinking I’d do that new blue-ish dress I got, you know, the strappy one?”

“Might still be too cold for strappy,” you whisper back, half listening to the professor drone on as you continue doodling on your paper, pausing every few minutes to jot down a few haphazard notes, “I was just thinking I’d do a jumper, probably a skirt and tights–”

Suddenly, you hear Professor Davies call your name, your cheeks practically stinging as blood rushes to your face. Sitting up straighter, you finally find the courage to meet his stern gaze, “Since you seem all too eager to share your thoughts,” He continues slowly stalking towards you across wooden floorboards that softly creak beneath his feet, “Would you care to enlighten us with the solution to the quadratic equation on the board?” He comes to a stop, hands clasped behind his back as he patiently waits for you to answer, a small, knowing smile poised on his lips. 

“I– uhm, well,” you stutter, glancing back and forth between your barely there notes and the chalkboard, throat growing tighter as you feel everyone's eyes on you, “Don’t you need to solve for G first?”

“And how would you go about doing that?”

“Well, you would…” You trail off, desperately trying to remember the lessons you’d had before Easter holiday, absentmindedly picking at your cuticle as you pray to be anywhere but here or for a hole to open in the floor and swallow you whole, “I…I don’t recall, professor. I’m sorry.” You finally say, not being able to meet his gaze as you stare intently at your lap, desperately willing yourself not to cry, even as you feel your eyes stinging. 

“Perhaps, in the future, it would be of benefit to socialize with your friends outside of my classroom.” Professor Davies admonishes, giving a sharp glare to Louise as well, who manages an apologetic smile. “Yes, Professor.” You whisper, keeping your eyes downturned. 

Finally, you hear the floorboards softly creaking once more as Professor Davies makes his way back up to the podium at the front of the room and once again resumes his lecture. You can’t help but pause for a second when you hear a small snicker from the tall boy in front of you, sensing as he peers at you over his shoulder once again. 

“Would anyone else like to take a crack at the problem on the board?” Professor Davies asks, leaning against the old, worn podium at the front of the room. Like clockwork, Michael’s hand shoots into the air. Somehow, that makes you blush even harder.

Eventually, Professor Davies finishes his lecture and retrieves his dark leather briefcase from under the desk, pulling a thick stack of papers out and sitting them on the podium, leaning over it with a sigh, “I have your tests graded. Most of you did very well, you should be pleased with yourselves. Some of you, however,” He says pointedly, “Could benefit greatly from a closer study of the material.”

Slowly, he walks around the room passing back tests, throwing out a comment here and there as he did so. You already know you hadn't done well on that particular test and dread getting it back and confirming your suspicions, so you keep yourself busy, choosing to meticulously pack up your things instead. 

“Mr. Gavey,” he said a few feet away from you, papers rustling as he slid the test across the wooden surface of the long bench desks, “Once more, an outstanding job! Top of the class, keep it up.” 

“Thank you, Professor,” you glance up, watching as he takes the paper with a humble nod, that same, oh-so pleased smile gracing his angular face. He must sense you looking at him and quickly shifts his gaze in your direction, eyes glimmering with self-satisfaction behind his gold-rimmed glasses as his smile quickly turns into a smirk. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his with a small, bewildered huff. Why did he seem to get so much satisfaction from besting you, of all people? It’s not like you were exactly an academic threat. 

“Ms. Bickerstaff,” Professor Davies says, finally appearing next to the table you and Louise sat at, “Not bad, a bit more effort next time and you’re sure to be on track,” he remarks, sliding her paper across the desk. Louise thanks him with a small smile as she flips through her test, eyes scanning over his marks. 

Finally, Professor Davies stands before you once again, your paper the very last in his hands. You hear him mutter your last name before he slides the paper across the desk to you, and you can’t help but deflate as you see your grade; you knew it would be bad, but that? How on Earth were you going to recover your average? What if you had to retake the whole course? What if you failed out of Oxford entirely? Your parents had sacrificed so much to help you get here, spending years and untold amounts of money on private tutors and extracurricular materials, all to help you have an impressive application! Not to mention the money just for the course fees! Unlike most of your friends, you didn’t come from piles and piles of money and status – your family was alright, sure, but you were definitely several tax brackets below them. 

As your thoughts spiraled, you felt Louise elbow you in the side at the same time you heard Professor Davies address you again. Shaking your head to clear your scattered thoughts, you clear your throat and finally turn to look up at him, “Sorry, yes, Professor?” 

“As I was saying,” Professor Davies continues, tapping the papers in front of you, “I would like to discuss your performance with you today, after class. Please meet me at the front of the room before you go.”

“Yes, sir.” you mumble dejectedly, nodding as you quickly flip the test over, embarrassed at the thought of anyone else seeing your grade. 

“I’ll see you later, babes,” Louise says a few minutes later as everyone is clearing out of the room, “Good luck!” She whispers, giving you a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making her way to the door.

“Thanks!” you smile weakly, swallowing the lump in your throat before picking up your things and heading to the front of the room. The afternoon sun is already getting lower in the sky, beams of light shining into the room, bathing rectangular swaths of the floor in bright, golden light and highlighting motes of dust as they scatter in the air. Only a few students are left in the classroom, some of them finishing up notes while others type out quick texts. As you walk by his desk, you notice Michael scribbling down notes in his planner. 

You shuffle your feet nervously as you stand in front of the sizable oak desk that your professor sits at, watching as he adds a sticky note to the top of another stack of papers, “You wanted to see me, Professor?”

“Ah, yes!” He says, looking up at you over his glasses. He quickly caps his pen and stands, walking around the desk to stand in front of you, “I know this class has been quite the challenge,” he begins, leaning against the desk, “But, I think I’ve found a solution for you.” 

“You have?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion.

“I think you could benefit greatly from a tutor, perhaps a peer who could explain the material to you in a different way,” he continues, “And I have just the student in mind.” Instantly, you feel a pit beginning to form in your stomach, biting your bottom lip as you watch Professor Davies motion for someone behind you to come up to the desk, “Mr. Gavey, if you could join us up here, please.”

You freeze when you feel him saunter up beside you, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye. He was so much taller than you, your head barely grazing his shoulder, as he came to a stop next to you, standing casually with his backpack slung over one shoulder. 

Professor Davies once again turns his attention to you, motioning to Michael as he speaks, “Mr. Gavey here is one of my most capable students,” you can’t help but notice him stand up straighter at the comment, growing somehow even taller, “I’ve taken the liberty of asking him if he would be so kind as to assist you with some of the course work and he agreed.” You freeze a little at that, stunned that he would be so quick to help you when he seems to relish any opportunity to make you squirm. “I’ve given it some thought,” the professor continues, fixing you with a stern gaze, “And I’m willing to let you make corrections to your test and resubmit it for half credit.”

“Oh, thank you so much, prof–”

“However,” he adds, crossing his arms over his chest, “This will be the only time I do so. From now on, I suggest you see Mr. Gavey here on a regular basis; the material is only going to get more challenging as we begin this next unit.”

“Of course, professor. Thank you again.” You respond quietly, shifting uneasily as you stand between the two men. 

“Right, well, now that’s sorted,” Professor Davies says, clapping his hands together once as he turns and makes his way back over to the desk chair, sitting down with a tired sigh, “I trust the two of you can come to an agreement upon when and where to meet. I’ll see you again Monday, have a pleasant weekend.” He says, waving his hand dismissively as he goes back to organizing his papers. 

The two of you murmur your goodbyes before making your way into the hall, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as he follows you out of the classroom. Eventually, you come across a small alcove in the hallway; finally turning to face him, you let your eyes sweep up his body, finally coming to meet his blue eyes, slightly hidden behind the glare of the hallway lights on his glasses. 

“So,” you clear your throat and shift on your feet awkwardly, “Uh, what time works for you? I really can’t do Saturdays–” you begin, only to be cut off.

“Shame,” Michael sighs dismissively, a smirk pulling at one corner of his mouth, “Saturday is the only day that works for me.” 

The tone of his voice and the mirthful glint in his eyes makes you very much doubt that, your gaze narrowing, “Okay, well Saturday’s are the only day I have off,” you huff, only growing more annoyed as the stupid smirk on his face grows with satisfaction, no doubt pleased that he’s being a nuisance, “Besides, I super can’t tomorrow, anyway. I already promised my friends I’d come with them to this party tha–”

“Oh, I know about your little party,” Michael scoffs, “Trust me, love, the whole damn class heard about that stupid fucking party with the way you lot were running your mouths earlier,” he chuckles coldly, continuing in an exaggerated high-pitched voice, one hand coming up to mime twirling a lock of hair, “Oooooh, it’s so cold, can’t wear the fuckin’ strappy dress, gotta wear me jumper and little slutty skirt, la-dee-dah.” He finishes with a final huff of laughter. 

“What is your deal with me?!” You finally snap, glaring at him, even as you feel your face redden, “You’ve been a dick all semester and I haven’t done anything to you! I’ve never even talked to you!” Glancing around the empty hallway, you cross your arms over your chest, praying no one’s in earshot to hear your hissed tirade.

“I might not know you but I know plenty about your little friends,” he sneers, shaking his head like a disappointed father; the sight makes your blood boil.

“What does that even mean?” You demand, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. What did your friends have to do with any of this? None of them ever spoke about Michael, none of them even knew him as far as you were aware. 

His face softens, if only for a moment, as he registers the genuine confusion on your face, smirk faltering as his eyes narrow. He leans in closer to you as he begins speaking again and you can’t help but get a brief smell of the cologne he wears, something warm and woodsy that makes you think of a bookshop and the smell of the forest after it rains, “Come on,” he starts, blue eyes flitting between both of yours as he looks at you intently, “Felix Catton? You and your little friend, the one from class, you go around with him, yeah?”

You nod, giving him another puzzled look, confused as to what the hell Felix has to do with any of his disdain, “Yeah,” you say slowly, drawing out the word, “But, what does he have to do with anything?”

Michael huffs once more, almost laughing to himself as he shakes his head, burying his hands in the pockets of his jeans, “See, we went to school together, him and I – some of primary, all of secondary,” he shrugs, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he traps you in his gaze once again, “And I just don’t fucking like the guy. Can’t stand him, never could’ve.” 

You’re silent for a second, and now it’s your turn to flick your eyes back and forth, searching each of his for some sort of coherent answer and yet you come up empty. “But, what does that have to do with me?” You ask slowly, making sure to carefully enunciate each word.

“Don’t trust the people around him either,” he mutters, gazing down at his shoe, “Weirdos, the whole lot. There’s something…off about the guy. Can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something dark there, all around him. Like he’s putting on one big show. All his little gremlins do too, they all act the same.”

The two of you are silent for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say next. You chance a glance up at him, nearly gasping when you find him already gazing at you – an unreadable expression on his face. Yet a light blush still blooms on your cheeks as you quickly look away once again, your heart thudding so loudly you’re wondering if he can hear it – hell, you’re wondering why you’re reacting this way at all, why you’re so shy and skittish around him. 

“M’not like that,” you very nearly whisper, finally seeming to regain your voice. Only to lose it once again when he takes a half step toward you, suddenly crowding you further into the small alcove.

He makes a small noise, damn near cooing at you, tilting his head to the side when he notices you flinch as he raises an arm, gently raising your chin with one hand, angling your head up to meet his gaze, that signature smirk once again taking hold on his face as he looks at you curiously, “You’re not like that, are you?” He asks, his voice low and raspy. 

You quickly shake your head, blinking up at him, unsure of what exactly he wants from you. You feel your cheeks stinging for the umpteenth time today with how hard you’re blushing, a strange feeling taking root in your stomach the longer you stare at him, that small voice in your head positively cheering. 

But, as quickly as whatever spell he seems to have on you takes hold, it’s broken as he suddenly lets go of your chin and steps back, casually pursing his lips and nodding to himself, coming to some unknown decision in his head, “Meet me in Bodleian, tomorrow at five. There’s hardly anyone up on the third floor on the weekends, so we'll be able to focus.” He says simply, turning on his heel to leave without even giving you a second to answer.

“But I’m bus–”

“D’you want a good grade or do you want to go get drunk with your creepy gremlin friends?” He asks, peering over his shoulder as he saunters down the hallway, raising an eyebrow at you over the shiny gold rim of his glasses, “S’your call, love.” He finishes with a shrug, disappearing as he turns a corner and leaves you standing there alone, frowning and dumbstruck. 

“Bodleian at five it is,” you mutter to yourself, sighing as you turn and walk the opposite way, desperately trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach and the fog in your brain. 

Your shoes tap against the stone pavement as you walk up to the old library, backpack slung over one shoulder; reaching into a pocket of your backpack, you blindly grab for your phone as you pull open one of the heavy, old wooden doors and step into the atrium. Out of all of Oxford’s libraries, you had to admit that Bodleian was one of your favorites; it had such a soothing atmosphere – from the way the evening light trickled in through the old glass windows, to the intricate wooden decor, and the way the entire place smelled of the old, well-loved books that lined the countless rows of shelves. 

Stepping to the side of the entryway, you check the time, your hand shaking a bit as you unlock your phone – 4:53pm, a little early, still. Sighing, you crane your head, nervously looking for Michael. Not seeing him, you decide to bide your time examining one of the tall bookshelves near the entrance, eyes skimming over their titles as you fiddle with the strings of the hoodie you’d decided to wear. Smiling, you lean up on your tiptoes to grab a copy of The Two Towers, happy to see a familiar book. Just as your fingers graze over the embossed gold lettering on the spine of the book, a large pair of hands grab you by the shoulders.

“Boo!” Someone whispers, close enough that you feel the warmth of their breath on the side of your neck. 

You spin around with a small shriek, jerking your head to the side when a hand is suddenly clasped over your mouth.

“Shh! Hey, relax!” Finally managing to focus on the face in front of you, your breathing slows as your gaze meets a pair of round blue eyes. Michael’s face is only inches from yours, concern evident, even behind the mask of a smirk he wears. “It’s only me.” He says softly, smirk softening into a genuine smile that sends a frantic tingle down your spine, which you desperately try to ignore as you nod against his hand, gasping in a small breath as it lowers once again to rest on your shoulder. 

“Hi.” Blinking up at him, you breathe the word more so than say it as you settle back on your feet, cheeks flushing as you realize he has his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you forward ever so slightly, like he wanted to make sure your head didn’t hit the sharp edge of one of the shelves; the voice in your head purrs as the butterflies in your stomach summersalt. 

“Hi.” He answers and you feel the hand on your shoulder twitch, the ghost of a comforting squeeze or rub causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand on end as some strange, warm weight settles in the pit of your stomach. 

Suddenly, whatever spell the two of you seemed to be under broke and you quickly clambered away from one another. Michael cleared his throat, running a hand through his wheat colored hair as you tugged at the sleeves of your hoodie, trying to look anywhere but in his direction. “Should we–” He starts suddenly, nodding his head to a staircase at the other end of the room, “It’ll be quieter up there.”

“Sure!” You chirp, giving him a curt nod, “Lead the way, you seem to know the place better than I do.”

“Well,” he chuckles, keeping his voice low as he moves past you, “S’what happens when you don’t spend all your damn time at weirdo parties.” 

You roll your eyes behind him, huffing as you start following him up the staircase, one of your hands gliding across the smooth, polished wood of the bannister. 

“Sorry.” He says suddenly as you reach the third floor of the library, running a hand through his hair once again as he stands at the top of the staircase. 

“What?” You ask, coming to a stop on the last step and looking up at him, tilting your head to the side as you lean against the handrail. 

“For earlier,” he explains, gesturing for you to follow him as he starts making his way to the back corner of the large, open space, the one furthest from the stairs, “Scaring you, I mean. Didn’t mean to.”

You’re quiet for a moment, following him as the two of you walk past aisle after aisle of towering bookshelves. The area is definitely quieter than the main floor, nearly vacant aside from one or two lone students sitting at the long wooden study tables. It’s calm up here, evening light filtering in through large windows on either end of the long room, casting large shadows on the floor and vaulted ceilings.

Eventually, the two of you come to a stop at a table, the very last in its row, tucked away in a corner. “It’s alright,” you shrug, trying to keep your voice soft in the quiet space as you sit your backpack on the edge of the table, “I don’t know why I’m so jumpy today, maybe the tea from earlier.” You lie, hopefully smoothly, and quickly grab a pen and notebook as well, before sitting down.

Michael huffs to himself as he sits his things out on the table as well, like he’s laughing at a joke you can’t hear, “Maybe it’s all that tension.”

“Wh– tension?” You question, cringing at the urgency in your voice as you pray that he doesn’t pick up on it, shifting in your seat as he pulls out the chair next to you and plops down, completely relaxed as if he owns the place. 

“The stress? That you were meant to be working out at Catton’s?” He gives you an odd look, resting his head against his hand as he leans his elbow on the table, “Couldn’t help but overhear your little conversation yesterday.”

“Oh…” You breathe, a pink haze settling over your cheeks once more as you fidget with your pen, acutely aware of how easily he seems to be able to make you blush. 

The smirk on his face widens as he narrows his eyes, studying you in a way that makes your heart squeeze, your thighs clenching together as that heady weight from earlier makes itself known again in your stomach, “You can’t keep one thought in that head, can you, love?”

You blink, unsure of what to say, as two halves of your brain argue with one another. Why is he so mean? You wonder to yourself, eyes searching his, as you frown, And…God, why do I like it?

“Why don’t you like me?” You ask, finally breaking the silence with your small voice. 

He scoffs again, shaking his head as if the answer should be obvious to you, “You don’t take it seriously. You come to class and whisper and gossip with your damn friend or doodle in your little notebook, but you don’t fucking listen.” He sits back up, frowning, “I work hard every fucking day in there, for fuck’s sake, I only agreed to help you because I want to be Davies’s teaching assistant next year! Yet you and Catton and everyone like you can just pay their way in here, collecting a little diploma from Oxford just so their parents can brag about it with their stupid fucking rich friends.” He finally finishes, turning his head to stare out the window. 

“Told you, I’m not like that,” you whisper after a moment, voice wavering from the tightness in the back of your throat, “I’m here on scholarship, same as you.” 

His eyes flit back to you, his frown deepening, “How did you know ab–”

“Like I’m not going to ask around about the guy tutoring me?”

“Fair enough.” He concedes after a minute. 

Silence settles over the two of you again, like a stalemate, waiting to see who would crack first. Finally, you turn to him with a sigh, nodding to your test paper on the desk, “Can we just get this done? I don’t want to be here any more than you do.”

“Ah, of course,” he nods as he picks up your test, looking over the first incorrect problem, “Catton’s big important party. And you’re stuck here with a loser like me; must really be doing your head in, huh?” 

You want so badly to correct him, to tell him that no, actually, for once, you were kind of excited to not be at one of Felix’s parties. You wanted to tell him that you’d hoped things would be different, maybe if it was just the two of you he would drop the arrogant asshole bit, that you stupidly hoped it was just an act. 

Instead, you bite your lip, determined not to lash out and give him another reason to dislike you, “I don’t think you’re a loser, Michael,” you say, tiredly meeting his gaze, “Can we just focus on this now, please?” 

He’s quiet for a moment, frozen like you’d said something groundbreaking. Finally, he nods his head, almost imperceptibly like he’d come to a decision you weren’t privy to, “Sure,” he says gruffly, grabbing your test and reading over the first incorrect problem, “S’not like I’m the one failing.” He finishes, his voice tight and determined, like he knew it was something he’d regret saying even as the words left his mouth. 

See? You think silently, pointed words aimed at that stupid voice in your head, Told you so.

It’s barely an hour later and you already feel cross-eyed, groaning as Michael flips your test over to the next page and you see you’re only just now halfway done correcting the ones you’d gotten wrong. You hate to admit it to yourself, but his tutoring was helping — problems that you’d hardly been able to finish the first time seem far less daunting as he explains them to you. Even he seems less daunting as the hour goes on; shockingly, he doesn’t make anymore snide comments and you can tell that he genuinely enjoys talking about the subject, patiently helping you through each problem. 

“Can we take a break?” You grumble, laying your head down on top of your textbook. 

“What?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he checks his watch, “It’s hardly been an hour and you’re ready to give up?” 

“‘M not giving up,” you mumble, “I just think we could use a little break…” You say hopefully, looking at him with a small smile. When he doesn’t break, holding your gaze with a frown, you sigh, “Just, like, ten minutes, please?” 

You want to groan again when you see that formidable smirk make its home on his lips again, “Say please again.” He commands, his voice low. 

“Huh?” You balk, nearly dropping your phone as you retrieve it from your pocket. 

“Say please again,” he says slowly, his smirk only growing wider as he watches your cheeks redden, “Beg.” 

“W-why?” You question, face burning as you try your damndest to look unbothered by his request. 

He shrugs dismissively, “Makes you squirm,” he answers finally, leaning back in his chair, “I like that.”

“Why?” Your voice is so small you doubt he’d even know you spoke if his eyes weren’t fixed on you. 

He hums, a satisfied noise, like you’ve finally managed to meander into a trap he’d set ages ago, “S’fucking cute,” he huffs out a laugh when he sees your eyes widen, “Makes you blush and act all dumb.” 

You know you should be offended, but you can’t find it within yourself to care, “You think I’m cute?” 

He chuckles, sighing, “That’s what you choose to focus on?” 

“Do you?” 

“Fine, yes.” 

“Please, Michael,” you say suddenly, the words feeling practically punched from your throat, “Please, please can we have a break? Please, only ten minutes?” You beg, breathing hard as you quickly scan the room, shoulders relaxing when you don’t see anyone else sitting at the study tables. 

You see the way his eyes widen behind his glasses, like he can’t believe you actually did it, before they narrow once more, overtaken by a satisfied gleam, “Ten minutes.” He says simply, leaning back in his chair yet again, letting his head flop back, relaxed, and closes his eyes. 

You don’t move for a second, letting your eyes study the side of his face, looking over his sharp jawline and the curve of his nose. After a moment, you look away, deciding to pull out your phone. 

A few minutes go by as you answer a few texts from Louise, telling her that you miss her too and how you wish you were at the party — a lie, though you can’t find it within yourself to care. You busy yourself for a while longer, watching a few people's Instagram stories, the volume on your phone muted as you watch your friends dance under colorful strobe lights, blowing smoke at the camera and clinking drinks together. 

“I meant what I said.” You say finally, laying your phone on the table and picking at one of your cuticles. 

“Hm?” Michael questions, not bothering to open his eyes. 

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you answer, fidgeting, “I never have. I think you’re…intriguing.”

“Intriguing?” He asks, finally sitting up and looking at you with a questioning stare, “How so?” 

You swallow, tucking your hair behind your ear with a shrug, “You’re smart…you know you’re smart,” you start, voice small and shaky, “I like that.”

“You like that or you like me?” He’s looking at you like a cat playing with a helpless mouse, looking at you like he knows he’s already won a game you don’t even know the two of you are playing. 

“You.” It comes out as a breath. 

He doesn’t answer and eventually you look away from him, choosing to stare out the window at the streetlights outside, the sky dark. 

Finally, the silence becomes overbearing and you break first again, “Thank you,” you smile at him, keeping your voice low even though you know the rest of the floor is vacant, even though the noise of the floors below has drastically faded over the last hour, “For helping me, I mean. You probably have a dozen things you’d rather do on a Saturday.” 

He stays quiet for a few seconds, “I didn’t really have anything better to do,” he smirks, “No parties.” 

“None?” 

“Never,” he shakes his head, shrugging, “Don’t get invited.” 

“Oh,” you answer simply, “Well, still, either way, thank you.” You smile again, but it falters when he leans forward suddenly, crowding into your space with a sly grin, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck. 

“I know a way you could repay me, love,” he whispers lowly into your ear, your hair standing on end, “Only if you want to, of course.” He adds, his long fingers toying with a strand of your hair. 

Your eyes grow comically wide as you process what he just said, “H-how do you want me to repay you?” You whisper, your eyes finally meeting his. 

He laughs softly, letting go of the strand of your hair to rest his hand lightly against the side of your face, his thumb skimming over your cheek as he watches a rosy hue settle across it, “I can think,” he starts, thumb moving lower to skate across your bottom lip, slightly tugging the skin with it, “Of one very fucking good way to put this mouth to use, love.” 

You part your lips slightly, letting the tip of his thumb into your mouth, just barely holding it between your teeth as you lightly run your tongue over it, heart skipping a beat at the way his lips just barely part in shock as you do. The voice in your head purrs again, roaring back to life, and you nod, smiling around his finger. 

“Yeah?” He questions, smirking as he watches your lips twitch around his thumb, “”Y’wanna?”

“Yes.” You reply around his thumb, your hands coming up to hold onto his forearm, the fabric of his rust colored sweater soft under your hands. 

“Beg.” He commands again, eyes twinkling. 

You take in a breath, eyes slipping shut as your thighs clench around nothing – missing the way Michael glances down at the movement, a knowing grin forming on his face, “Please, Michael.” You practically whine. 

“Ooh,” he coos, finally moving his thumb from your mouth, only to trail his hand down your neck, lightly resting it against your throat, “I think you can do better than that, pretty. Open your eyes and damn beg.” 

You follow his orders, a small whimper skirting past your lips at the new pet name as you open your eyes, “Please, Michael, please let me repay you, let me thank you, please.” The words tumble out, your eyes wide and pleading. 

“How’re you planning on doing that, empty headed little thing?” He taunts, the hand around your throat just barely tightening but it’s enough to make you let out a small, desperate whine. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, moving close enough to you that the front of his chest is plastered to your side, his heart beating against your shoulder, “Ask for what you want, beg properly.” His breath fans across the side of your face again, the feeling of his lips brushing over the side of your jaw making you jump. 

“Please, God, Michael,” you whine, squeezing your legs together so hard you’re surprised they haven’t fused together, “P-please let me suck your cock — to thank you, thank you for helping me.” You add quickly, breath shaky as you turn your head to look at him imploringly. 

He chuckles, but he looks pleased as he leans back momentarily, craning his neck to make sure there isn’t anyone around, “Alright, alright, love,” he soothes, coming back to face you, nodding his head to the empty space in front of his hair, below the table, “Not God, but I’ll give you what you want.” He teases.

Your breath catches in your throat as you look down at the floor beneath the desk, then back up at him before nodding, “Yes, sir.” You push yourself off your chair, sliding down beneath the desk. 

“Goddammit,” you hear him groan above you, running his palms over his thighs as he parts them, making room for you, “Keep that up, love, might even give you extra credit.” 

You rest your palms against the tops of his thighs as you move between his legs, getting comfortable on your knees, the old wooden floor cool against your skin, even through your black leggings. Finally, your eyes settle on the sizable bulge, covered by his dark jeans, and you can’t help the small whine that leaves your lips. Slowly, you move your hands up to the button of his pants, quickly popping it open and dragging the zipper down, smiling when Michael sighs above you as he pulls his sweater up out of the way, exposing the pale skin of his stomach. You let your eyes roam over him, warmth settling between your legs as you spot the dusting of light hair that starts beneath his belly button and leads downwards, disappearing under his plaid boxers.

You move closer to him, crowding in between his long legs, as you hook your fingers over the tops of his boxers, before finally looking up at him, “Can I…?” You ask, nodding to where his cock is straining against the fabric. 

“Don’t be shy now, princess,” he groans, running a hand through your hair as he stares down at you, “Get on with it.”

You keep your eyes on his as you pull his boxers down, just enough to free his cock, watching the way his chest heaves as he lets out another relieved sigh. Finally, you tear your gaze away from his as you look at his cock, gasping in a breath as you do. As far as dicks go, Michaels is impressive, beautiful even – long and thick with veins running up the underside, leading up to a flushed, leaking tip. 

You take him in your hand tentatively, squeezing him lightly around the base, your confidence growing when he grunts, breathing heavier. Finally, you lightly lick the tip, eyes sliding closed at the pleasant, salty taste of his pre-cum. You take the tip of him in your mouth, humming around him when his fingers tighten in your hair, lightly pushing on the back of your head, silently urging you to take more of him. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” he roughly groans, managing to keep his voice low, “Knew that pretty fucking mouth was good for something.” He moves his hips, impatiently thrusting his cock an inch deeper into your mouth, breathily cursing under his breath. 

You start bobbing your head up and down over his length, taking more and more of him into your mouth, more of his pre-cum leaking onto your tongue as you feel his dick throb and twitch in your hand. After a moment, you take a deep breath through your nose and remove your hand, resting it on his thigh, as you take him all the way to the base, your nose nestled in the short patch of hair there as you breathe in his heady scent, your eyes glazing over as you savor the feeling of him at the back of your throat. 

“Jesus!” He grunts, louder than he meant to, keeping your head in place as he thrusts his hips up again, keeping you in place at the base of his cock, “Fuck, that’s it,” he praised lowly, your center throbbing, no doubt leaking onto the fabric of your leggings, “Look at me, wanna see your eyes while I fuck your throat.”

You whine, desperately blinking back tears as you look up at him, trying to keep your breathing even. You hold his gaze as you stick your tongue out, licking lower, down toward his balls, relishing the way his eyes roll back as you do, stomach muscles twitching as he continues thrusting his hips up into your mouth, soaking his boxers and jeans with your spit. 

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” he groans, looking down at you, his eyelids heavy, “God, yeah, cry on my cock love. Fuck, you look so pretty crying on my cock.” He mumbles, talking to himself more so than you. 

His words send a shiver down your spine, adding to the heat in your center, and you whimper when he finally moves his hand from the back of your head, allowing you to come up for air. You do, with a gasp, thin strings of spit connecting your reddened lips with the flushed head of his cock. You keep your eyes on his as you wrap your lips around him once more, running your tongue along the thick vein on the underside before sucking at the swollen tip, relishing the way it makes him clench his jaw and gasp through his teeth as you stroke the rest of him with your hand. 

Above you, he smirks again, gently running his hand through your hair but making no move to press your head down again. He cocks his head to the side, studying you, grinning at the far-off, foggy look in your eyes, “Not a thought in that pretty head, is there?” He asks, bringing his hand down and gently patting your cheek; the ghost of a slap making your thighs clench, making your head dizzy with need. 

You nod around him, moving your head up and down along his length. You feel yourself throbbing with need, pulsing with heat; almost automatically, your hand starts to wander, a small sigh escaping you as your hand presses against your center through your leggings. You feel a warmth settle across your cheeks again as you feel your own wetness, leaking through the fabric just as you’d suspected. You whimper as you press down again, your eyes falling shut as you let your hips grind against your fingers, the wet fabric creating a delicious friction against your clit. 

Which you get to feel for all of five seconds before Michael is suddenly yanking your head from his length, causing you to yelp as he tugs your hair. “Did I say you could touch your cunt?” 

“N-no,” you whine pathetically, eyes watering from the harsh hold he has on your hair, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t think—“ You try to explain, only for him to cut you off with another harsh tug, making you mewl. 

“That’s a pattern with you, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at you with a condescending smirk, studying you again, “You were being such a good girl earlier, what happened? Hm?” He questions, pushing his chair back enough to pull you out from under the table. 

You get to your feet, suddenly feeling shy in front of him once again despite having his cock in your mouth mere moments ago. “I…got distracted.” You answer finally. 

“I got distracted….who?” He asks, looking up at you expectantly over the rims of his glasses. 

“I got distracted, sir,” you quickly correct yourself, eyes frantically scanning the still vacant floor of the library, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s much better, love,” he drawls, placing his hands on your hips, “Now, what could’ve been so fucking distracting, huh?” He starts moving his hands, slowly, toward your center, still looking up at you, his eyes questioning. You nod your head, just barely but enough for him to understand, and any hesitancy from him quickly disappeared. “Could it be this, I wonder?” He questions sardonically, suddenly cupping your heat in his large hand, the warmth of it nearly making your knees buckle, even through the thin fabric of your leggings. He hums, the sound low in his chest, when he feels how much you’ve soaked the fabric, 

“Oh,” you whimper, grabbing at his shoulders to keep yourself balanced as his fingers continue to tease you, rubbing circles into your clit, “Oh my God, fuck.”

“Christ,” he breathes, staring up at you with dark eyes, “So fucking wet, love, holy hell. Did you get this way just from sucking my cock?”

“Yeah,” you whine, nodding your head desperately as you try to swallow all the small noises you want to make in your throat, your hips rutting against his hand, “Please, sir!”

“Oh, so now that dumb brain has no trouble remembering damn instructions, huh?” He taunts, a wicked grin on his face as his fingers rub your clit in smaller, harsher circles, making you see stars, “Need your wet little cunt played with to be able to do as you're told?”

You nod your head frantically, tears nearly spilling from your eyes at the zaps of pleasure radiating from you, your walls clenching around nothing. Just as you feel yourself about to tip over the edge, he stops, jerking his hand away from you with a knowing chuckle, “W-what?” You question, eyes blinking open, “I was so close!” You whine, nearly stamping your foot on the floor like a petulant child. 

“Told you,” Michael shrugs, pulling you to sit in his lap, your back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. His breath tickles the side of your neck and face when he speaks again, “You’re so fun to tease, love, can’t help myself.”

You wiggle in his grasp, making him groan as your ass grinds against his hard length, desperately trying to get your hands free to touch your pussy again, nearly out of your mind with need. “P-please, sir, please touch me!” You finally gasp out, knowing he won’t give in until you do.

“Now there’s a good girl,” he says, voice pleased and cocky as he plants kisses along the side of your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…” He says, letting go of one of your arms, letting you grasp the arm still wrapped around you with your hands, as his free hand skirts down your stomach to the top of your leggings, pausing long enough for you to nod again, before he finally touches you. 

You whimper, jerking in his lap at the feel of his warm fingers directly on your heat for the first time, spreading your wet folds with a satisfied hum. His long fingers move down to your entrance, gathering some of the wetness there, “You’re so fucking wet,” he marvels, dragging his fingers up to your aching clit, “Fucking dripping on my fingers.” He murmurs in your ear, nipping at the side of your neck and sending tingles down your spine as he starts rubbing tight, wet circles against your bud. 

You tilt your head back, resting it against his shoulder as your chest heaves. A moan leaves your mouth, louder than it should be, and Michaels free hand shoots up, wrapping around your mouth. “Gotta be quiet, love,” he whispers, not slowing down the movement of his fingers in the slightest, “Wouldn’t want someone to interrupt, hm? Make me stop again?” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, whining desperately against his hand as he moves his fingers against you, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter. Your whole body lurches atop his, making him suck a breath in through his teeth as you move against his cock, still hard and hot as it presses against your lower back, when he moves his hand lower, plunging two fingers into your tight heat with no warning. “Fuck!” You yelp, muffled against his hand; tears leak from the corners of your eyes as he moves his fingers, scissoring them into you relentlessly as his thumb circles your clit. 

“S’fucking tight,” he mumbles lowly, voice vibrating his chest against your back, “God, you’re tight.” He grunts between clenched teeth, repeatedly crooking his fingers inside you as he fucks his fingers in and out of your heat, letting out small, barely there groans every time your pussy squelches around his fingers as he punches muffled whines and whimpers from you. He crooks his fingers up suddenly in a way that makes you see stars as you writhe on his lap, your knees shooting up off the floor as you attempt to curl up on yourself, “That the spot?” He teases, relentlessly rubbing his fingers against it as his thumb quickens against your clit. He adds a third finger without warning, curling them up against that rough patch inside you as he bites down on your shoulder, muffling his own groan as he feels you clench down on his fingers. 

“You gonna come?” He mumbles, grinning like a cheshire cat when you frantically nod your head, tears leaking onto the hand still wrapped tightly around your mouth. “Open your eyes,” he commands, not stopping his movements, “Want you to watch what I’m doing to you when you fucking cum.”

At the promise of finally getting to come, your eyes shoot open as you pick your head up off his shoulder, looking down the length of your body to where his hand disappears under your leggings. You practically come undone at the sight, watching as his hand moves against you through the dark fabric, maintaining a careful rhythm. “Michael, please!” You whine against his hand, desperately trying to keep your eyes open. 

He chuckles lowly, clearly proud of how quickly he’s been able to reduce you into a begging mess, the sound reverberating off your back. “Fucking come,” he commands, doubling his efforts, “Soak my fucking hand, love.”

The coil in your stomach finally snaps and you sob, eyes snapping shut as your whole body clenches, shaking in his lap, as fireworks burst behind your eyelids. Your entire core clamps down so tight he has to fight to keep his fingers within you, muting the sounds of his groans against your neck and shoulder as he feels your cunt pulse against his fingers. He doesn’t let up, pressing incessantly against that spot within you as you come, until he finally gets what he wants – both of you groaning together, noises muffled, as a stream of fluid seems to erupt from your center, soaking his hand and the inside of your leggings, though you can’t think enough to care at the moment. 

“Goddammit,” he grunts, finally removing his hand from your leggings, running his fingers through your folds one last time just to make you squirm. Suddenly, he’s lifting you off his lap enough to turn you around, maneuvering you to face him. You’re practically boneless in his lap as he lifts you just enough to pull your leggings down over your ass, pressing his bare cock against your still throbbing center when he sets you back down, “Gonna let me fuck you, love? Hm? Want me to make you go dumb around my cock?” 

You nod your head weakly, not bothering to lift it from his shoulder as you straddle his lap. He doesn’t make you beg this time, too desperate to feel your wet heat around him, as he swiftly lifts you up again, just enough to align his length with your entrance. 

Both of you moan as he lets you sit back down, his hard length disappearing into your warmth. He holds the back of your head, pressing your mouth against his neck to muffle your cries; you can feel his jaw clench with the effort of keeping his own muted. He fills you deliciously, thick cock pressed against every part of you, as your clit presses against the small thatch of hair above his length. 

“Fuck,” he huffs, the word hissed between his teeth as he squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the way your pussy pulses around his length, the way you desperately mouth and lick at his neck, “God, knew you’d feel good.” 

Somehow, that remark works it’s way through the fog in your brain, “Hm?” you hum against his neck, your hands coming up to tangle in his golden hair, “You thought about me?” You whimper, words whiny and breathy as he rocks you against him, spearing you on his length again and again, head kissing your cervix just enough to knock the air from your lungs every time he lowers you back down. 

He sighs, as if just now realizing what he’d said, and nods, swallowing down a moan before he speaks, “‘Course I did,” he admits, grinding you down against him, his hips pressed against yours. “Looked so damn pretty in class,” he continues, “So cute all, fuck, all flushed and embarrassed every time you got asked a question.” 

His admission makes you clench around him, heat flooding through your system as you process what he’d said. Your clit grinds against his body again, just as the head of his cock brushes against that spot in your center, and it’s like your brain has been whited out, all you can do is mewl against his neck as he rocks you up and down along his cock. 

“Fuck, I feel this sweet cunt getting tight, love,” he says, breathing heavily as he gets closer to his own release, “Y’gonna come?” 

“Yes!” You whimper, voice high-pitched and broken as you nod frantically against the skin of his neck, now wet with your spit and tears as you rock yourself against him, moving your clit against the hair at the base of his cock. 

“Hold it,” he commands softly, more breathing than speaking. He chuckles when he hears you whine, loving the way you mewl for him like a soft little kitten, and the hand still holding your head against him strokes your hair, soothing you. “Want us to come together,” he huffs, cursing under his breath as he feels you grow somehow tighter around him, “Fuck, I’m close just hold on.” The hand on your hip tightens, grinding you tightly against him, groaning as he feels your center milking his cock, your walls clenching around him desperately. 

“F-fuck, Michael,” you whine, breath hot against the column of his throat as you feel yourself tipping over, “Please! Please I can’t hold it, please!” You beg beautifully, weeping against his skin, trying so hard to keep it down to a whisper so you don’t draw attention, not this close to your release. 

“Where, fuck,” he curses, pulling your head up to look in your eyes, the blue in his nearly swallowed by blackness, “Tell me where.” He pants, his voice urgent.

“Inside me!” You breathe, cunt clenching around him as you feel him twitch inside you.

He groans, forehead resting against your shoulder for a second as he tries to maintain control, both of his hands gripping your ass hard enough to leave bruises, “Are you s–”

“Yes!” You nod, resting your forehead against his when he picks his head back up, “‘M on the pill.” You reassure him as you keep nodding. The two of you move together for a few more seconds, wildly grinding together, before the coil in your stomach is finally wound too tight, “Michael, oh, fuck!”

“Fuck,” he gasps, seeming to get somehow thicker inside you, “Come for daddy, fuck, be good and come.” He commands, his own voice low and frenzied.

Hearing him call himself that does you in, and you shatter around him, walls gripping him tightly. You open your mouth, unable to control a loud moan, which he quickly hushes by pressing his lips against yours, licking into your mouth as he thrusts up into your center harshly a few times, each rise of his hips accompanied by a grunt into your waiting mouth as you mewl at the heat of his cum filling you up, extending your own release. 

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, breathing heavily as you sweetly kiss, tiredly pressing your lips together. Finally, you pull away from him giggling shyly when you meet his eyes, blushing as you feel his length slowly softening inside you. “Getting shy on me now?” He teases, smiling at you as he gently plays with your hair. 

You smile back at him for a second before suddenly coming to your senses and remembering where you are, “Shit,” you whisper, hopping up off his lap, “I cannot believe we just did that!” You quickly scan the floor with wide eyes, shoulders visibly relaxing when you still don’t see anyone.

“Wasn’t in my plan,” Michael starts, tucking his member back into his boxers and zipping up his jeans, “But I’m certainly not complaining.” He finishes, smirking at you before standing. He leans down, helping you pull up your leggings. He doesn’t miss the way you grimace when the damp, now unpleasantly cool, fabric presses against you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, gesturing to them, “I should’ve…controlled myself better with that one.” He finishes, awkwardly scratching at his chin. 

You laugh quietly, trying to play it off although you’re dreading the half hour train ride back to your flat. That feeling doubles when you look down, eyes widening as you see the dark patch around your crotch, hardly visible on the dark fabric but enough that it makes you nervous, “Getting home is gonna be fun.” You joke, turning to begin gathering your things. 

You’ve gotten your textbook put back into your backpack when you feel a tap on your shoulder; turning your head, you look wide-eyed when you see him sheepishly smiling at you, holding his red sweater out as he stands in a band t-shirt, “Here,” he says softly, waving the sweater at you, “You need it more than I do and it’s my fucking fault anyway.”

You blush, taking the sweater from him with a small thank you, tying it around your waist as he busies himself with picking up his things, before putting the rest of yours into your backpack as well, “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!” You tell him as you finish situating his sweater around you, satisfied that the stain is covered.

He huffs out a laugh, “You sucked my cock on the floor of a library,” he jokes, eyes sparkling with mischief yet again, “S’the least I could do.” 

You laugh, playfully shoving at his shoulder as you put your backpack on. The floor is truly, blessedly, empty as the two of you leave and walk downstairs, not seeing anyone on the second floor either and only a few stragglers on the main floor at this hour on a Saturday evening. He pushes open one of the heavy wooden doors at the entrance, holding it open for you as you duck under his arm. The door thuds closed behind you as you both stand outside the library, the air cold now that the sun’s gone down. 

“I really like them, that band,” you say, nodding to his shirt, “Their last album’s really good.”

“Oh!” He says, eyebrows raising in surprise, “You know them?” He asks, smiling when you nod again, “Their new album is probably my favorite too, actually.” The two of you stand in a comfortable silence for a second later before he notices you shiver as a breeze blows through the stoney courtyard. “D’you live close to campus?”

“Half hour on the train,” you shrug, pulling your phone out to check the time, “I should probably go soon if I’m gonna catch the next one…”

“You could come to mine?” He asks, his voice hopeful, “It’s only a walk from here, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes?”

Your eyes widen, having not expected his invitation, but you nod nonetheless, “If you’re sure,” he nods, “Then, yeah! That would be great.” You smile, walking beside him as you start heading in the direction of his flat. 

“Would you maybe want to get lunch sometime?” He asks, glancing down at you.

“I would love that,” you smile, your hand brushing against his as you continue down the sidewalk, “I think I might need more tutoring, too…”

His hand catches yours, your fingers intertwining as he smirks, “Will you suck my cock every time?” He teases, grinning as you laugh, the sound echoing off the buildings and filtering into the night air. 

Told you so. The voice in the back of your mind echos as you lean your head on Michael’s shoulder.

tagged lovelies: @schniiipsel @arcielee @darlingofvalyria @aemshaircare @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog @fan-goddess @drakonflames @helloworldiamnotarobot

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[churipu]

a drizzle feels like monsoon !

featuring. sukuna ryomen, itadori yuuji, megumi fushiguro x reader

warnings. a lil angst + fluff (jjk men practically apologizing, shocker for sukuna)

note. this is part 2! i'm glad you all have taken a liking to the first part, like i can't believe it got over 700 notes :D, i'm gonna be doing my asks after this one so do wait for it! <;33

tags. @dookiemeshibear @sircatchungus

SUKUNA RYOMEN.

who am i kidding? he literally has no filter with that mouth of his, doesn't care about whose feelings he will hurt with what he says and could care less about what comes after.

except when it comes to you, apparently.

(as much as he hates to admit it, he's a sucker for you).

so when you came home from work one day, you just wanted nothing but to be smothered up with love (even if he barely shows it to you, he has his own way).

"ryo, i'm home."

he seemed to be in a foul mood — obviously he's always in one? but today seemed to be his foul-est mood yet.

and you didn't understand why.

it was either someone made him mad (everyone agitates him for just breathing tbh), or he's just.. mad for no apparent reason.

"are you alright? do you want to talk about it?"

your voice made him grimace and he looks at you dead in the eyes before muttering out a:

"shut the fuck up y/n." in the most menacing, venom laced tone.

you widened your eyes slightly but nodded your head, feeling the upset settling in your stomach — and so you went to take a shower (and cry in there for the longest time).

and when you come out of the shower with red marks at the corner of your eyes, there sukuna sat on the bed in your shared bedroom.

"what are you doing here?" you asked him, clutching onto the white towel you just used. the male looks at you for a while, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

"what? can't be in my room now?" he retorts back. and so much to think that he was going to apologize to you for being undoubtedly rude when you just wanted to throw him love and care.

"'kay." you mumble out, getting ready to leave the room — but he held you by your wrist, holding you in place, "what are you doing?"

"fuck," he murmurs out, looking stressed out, "'m sorry for saying that shit. i didn't mean it, it just came out."

it was pretty warming to hear the word 'sorry' come out of his lips since he isn't much of a person who would shove his ego up his ass to apologize to someone, "then why'd you say it?" you asked him, voice low.

"i.. don't know— have you been crying in there?" he asks, voice calm.

you shook your head, lying, but he could see right through you. the male pulls you down onto the bed, threading his fingers into your hair, "sorry.. for makin' you cry."

"that's okay.."

"it's obviously not if you're fuckin' cryin'." he mutters out, pulling you into a tight hug, laying his chin on top of your head.

"you're cute, ryo."

"shut up."

ITADORI YUUJI.

it's a surprise to everyone if yuuji's in a foul mood — but i mean, he's human too? he doesn't always have to be happy.

but his foul moods are rare so you always wonder what could have plummeted his mood, and sometimes yuuji would tell you all about it.

but today he seemed to be in a foul mood, and distant.

"yuuji?" he grunted, making sure you knew he heard you call out to him.

"are you alright?" he grunted again.

"yuuji, do you want to talk about it?" he shook his head.

"is there anything i can do to—"

"Jesus Christ y/n, stop asking me shit and leave me alone!"

you did what he told you to, sitting down on the couch in silence on the left side, and yuuji on the right side silently. it shouldn't be anything but you felt overwhelmed by the tone of his voice, yuuji has never raised his voice at you before.

so when tears come out of your eyes, yuuji is quick to take notice, he glances at you, eyes full of worry. and then he scoots closer silently, "y/n.."

you wiped your tears, but to no avail, they just keep coming out.

his hands soon cups your cheeks and wipes your tears, "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry.." he murmurs out, peppering your face with kisses, "please don't cry, i'm sorry.. i shouldn't have raised my voice at you. i'm so sorry y/n."

yuuji pulled you onto his embrace, burying his face into the crook of your neck, planting soft kisses on your skin, "please don't cry.. i love you, get mad at me, yell at me, but don't cry. i hate to see you cry.."

it pained you to see him upset because of you, so you nodded your head. if you spoke now, you were sure you'd cry even harder.

you ruffled his hair, "it's okay yuuji, i'm sorry for forcing you too."

he shook his head, "no, it's mine. you just wanted to know, i'm sorry."

he spent the rest of the day cuddling and clinging onto you like a koala, requiring kisses and constant attention.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO.

how should i say this? he acts hot and cold. sometimes he would be cold like ice, and at other times he would be warm like summer.

today, he was in one of those cold like ice moods and you hadn't spoken to him for.. hours.

"megumi?"

he didn't answer you, but he looks at you, arching his eyebrow.

"did i do something wrong to make you act like this?"

he sighed, "no."

"then do you want to talk about it?"

"no."

"really..? are you oka—"

"i said no, what the hell is so hard to understand about the word 'no'?" he seethes out.

it took him awhile to notice how silent you have been, and when he looks at you — with tears pooling in your eyes. he immediately feels the guilt surging in him.

"fuck. y/n.. i'm so sorry." he reaches out to you but stopped when he thought it would just worsen everything.

"'ts okay.. i'm sorry for forcing you to tell me," you wiped your tears.

megumi pulled you into his arms, holding you close to him, "no, i'm sorry. i'm sorry for saying that — you just cared about me, i shouldn't have said that to you."

you rubbed his back, "it's alright gumi, i'm okay."

"you're not," he pulled away, wiping your tears away swiftly, "i don't like seeing you cry.."

"you're a cutie." you chuckled.

"what makes you think it was the right time to compliment me y/n?" oh, don't think that you didn't catch that blush on his face. he's a cutie.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[fanaticsnail]

Snail important question;

Of any line-up of characters of your choice-

Who do you think is attracted to competency,

Who is attracted to stupidity,

Who can go either way,

And who is attracted to both at the same time (imagine;

Reader: sorry I'm late I had to fight off two different ships

Them: is that how you got that bruise on your face?

Reader: oh... Actually, I wasn't looking and pulled a push door off its' hinges into my face

Them, kicking off their pants: god you're so fucking stupid, sit on my face

)

Also, I feel like there are different versions of competency and stupidity. Street smarts vs social obliviousness. Book smarts vs functionally illiterate. Strategic/battle smarts vs what-do-you-mean-flashing-the-enemy-isn't-a-valid-distraction?

(Zoro is completely math smart and dumb in every other way)

I could imagine Luffy would be attracted to hyper specific competency. If you're really into a specific thing and good at it and it's your dream he would absolutely love it even if it sounds like you're speaking gibberish to him. He wouldn't even think of it as weird - I mean, no more weird than any other dream he doesn't personally understand - he's certainly not the type to judge based on societal norms. You could talk his ear off about the reproductive habits of different animals and he wouldn't get why everyone else doesn't like to hear it when they're eating but hey more food for him.

Snail. Your asks always know how to get the better of me. Have a series of little drabbles, dear.

Competency, Stupidity, Duality

Masterlist here

Word Count: 410+, 510+, 580+

Synopsis: They can't help what attracted them to you. No matter what you did, they simply couldn't get enough of you. Their emotions finally catch up with them, and they confess their adoration for you.

Themes: variety x gn!reader, feelings, injury, mentions of battles, finally giving in, all different 'reader' inserts, confessions of love, kid x reader, zoro x reader, killer x reader, angst, fluff, sweetness.

Notes: I wasn't expecting to write this today, but I've been thinking about the big boys lately and I needed to give them some love. Something about trios lately.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Competency: Eustass Kid

When Eustass Kid noticed how quick and sharp you were to react in life or death circumstances, he was immediately smitten with you. Being a Straw-Hat, your ambitions and dreams were fostered by your playful captain as you sailed aboard the Thousand Sunny. Your ability to interact flawlessly by balancing the combined efforts of the three crews had him intrigued by your charisma. 

Fighting by your side was something he didn’t expect to affect him so much. The way you researched the strengths and weaknesses of all three crews sailing and fighting together was admirable. Asserting yourself by asking Law to push and pull you closer to the fight with the Ope-Ope no Mi ability, while fighting side-by-side with Massacre Soldier Killer in close quarters, had him left wordless.

After the battle finishes, he watched as you hastily aided your crew of their injuries while disregarding your own; putting others first while adding pressure to your hand-gash, hovering it over your head to slow the bleeding. He couldn’t get enough of you. 

He needed you to know how he felt about you, but being in the presence of Luffy and Law always seemed to bring out the more juvenile side of attitude. His simple attraction and infatuation with you had to be revealed to you in due time, but he couldn’t risk sounding like an idiot in front of you. He would have to simply wait until you were alone and unoccupied before he made his move to take care of you after taking care of others. 

Slowly approaching you as you sat down against the tangerine grove aboard the Thousand Sunny, his shadow shrouded your form and prompted you to gaze up into his scarred, sheepish face. Your smile caused his heart to beat harder and his head to swirl with a variety of "what-ifs". Gulping back his insecurities, he knelt down in front of you.

“Let me take care of that for you,” he offered with a soft smirk, “You’ve done so much for others, and I think your hand needs some seeing to.” 

“If you say so, Captain Kid,” you shrug, offering your injured hand delicately to him and listening to his every instruction as he treats you, “I wasn’t aware you had any medical training.” He straps your hand in a bandage, placing down the final ties before holding your injured hand in his.

“I don’t,” he shrugged with a smile atop his painted lips, “But I’ve lost an arm before, and I don’t want to see that happen to you.” 

“You’re-...” he stuttered over his words, gazing at your hand before softly drifting his tired eyes up, “...-You amaze me. Truly, amaze me.” You place your other hand on his, never once removing your eyes from his face as he offers you such kindness. 

“Thank you, sir,” you nod to him with a soft smile, “You amaze me, too.”

Stupidity: Roronoa Zoro

“Why would you do that?” Zoro roared at you, hovering his body over yours and caging your face-down body within a shield of his own. The gashes on your back were deep, your body weeping out the red essence and staining your clothes with it.

“C-Couldn’t risk yours,” you stuttered out with a soft smile, “H’was gonna g-get yours. Didn’t want you to wear the shame.” His eyes widened, filling with a steam of glossy tears that threatened to spill over the moment you stuttered out your confession. “That’s what you said, wasn’t it? Mark on the back is a swordsman’s greatest shame?” 

Drip. 

Drip.

Drip.

One after one, soft tears spilt down his cheeks and mixed with the fluids pooling at your back. He leaned down towards you, the heat of battle dying down with the swift, flaming kick of the blonde cook and giggling chuckles of your captain, Luffy. 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” he sniffed his sobs back as he leaned down to cage you, “Can’t you see? None of that fucking matters without you here.” He softly, tenderly moved you from your position on the floor to not disturb your wounds. He sat you up, cradling you against his broad chest and openly sobbed for you. 

“When you get better,” he growled into your shoulder, “I will repay you for this. I will pay my debt to you.” His sobs got more desperate, not halting in the slightest when Trafalgar D Water-Law approached the two of you in your embrace. 

“Let me get ‘em to the infirmary,” Law offered, gesturing for Bepo to ready the aid kit, “I’ll treat the wounds there-.” 

“-I won’t leave them,” Zoro barked over your shoulder, your soft smile tugging at your cheeks in your hazy daze. “Let me go with you, Traffy. I won’t say a damn word to distract you, on my honor.” Law nods, raising his hand and spreading his fingers and offers the two words to switch positions within the infirmary: “Room, Shambles.” 

As you drifted in and out of consciousness, you laughed each time Zoro chastised you for your stupidity. Echos of: “There were so many other things you could’ve done instead,” and “You stumbled into that blade like a moron and took that hit for me, idiot.” You giggled through the pain, barely feeling it as Law worked to stitch you together again. 

Upon regaining consciousness, you looked to your moss-haired crewmate and offered out your hand to his bicep. His head was bowed, arms crossed over his chest, and was assumed to be napping by your bedside. Feeling your touch, he was roused from his sleep and immediately leaned forward to bring his face beside yours. 

“You’re a fucking moron,” he huffed, smiling in a melancholy grin. You laughed at his insult, squeezing his muscle before retracting your hand. As you nearly drew it away to your side, he caught your hand and brought your palm up to his lips. 

“My fucking moron,” he confirmed, placing a soft kiss to your palm before using it to cup his face. “I love you.”

Duality: Massacre Soldier Killer

Staring up into your face while remaining silent, resting his masked face on the heel of his palm, he listened to your recount of a very specific childhood injury that left you with an interesting scar on your thigh. Killer’s eyes never left your face, his cheeks beginning to glow warm and vibrant beneath the shroud of his mask.

“So, let me get this straight,” Captain Eustass Kid held his hand in front of his face and gave it a gentle wave to halt your words, “That sick-looking scar wasn’t from any time you served with Luffy, but because you set off a fucking harpoon and speared yourself in the leg with it?” 

Killer felt himself swoon at the melody your laugh thrust into the atmosphere. He was ever thankful his blue and white mask disguised how much he was smiling beneath the shroud. 

“Yep,” you popped the ‘P’ afterwards, nodding in confirmation as you sat beside Usopp and drew your tankard up to your lips, “But I learnt from it, and it hasn’t happened since.” Killer sighed, his voice almost coming out in a soft moan to reveal his growing infatuation for you. Kid barked out a harsh gaggle of laughter, clapping you on the shoulder with his right hand and gestured for you to reveal it to them.

“Let me see it again, go on,” he chuckled, removing his hand and sitting back on his seat, “Use Killer’s thigh as a prop so we can see it properly. You don’t mind do you, big guy?” Killer absentmindedly and slowly shook his head, tapping his thigh twice with his hand for you to reveal your injury to the captain of the Victoria Punk, himself and your crewmate beside you. 

“Alright,” you shrugged, standing beside Usopp and Killer and gently placed your foot atop Killer’s thigh and began hiking up your shorts to your hip, “Feast your eyes, Captain.” Sure enough, an interesting looking scar was revealed on your inner thigh, clear as day and sure as the sea is salty. 

“Oh, fucking hells!” Kid gave you a hearty laugh, “You seeing this, big guy?” Kid turned his attention to his first mate, his smile only growing as he noticed the angle of Killer’s mask never left your face. Surprise was immediately thrust into Kid’s eyes, noticing the unwavering resolve in Killer’s posture. 

You turned your attention down to the silent and broody first-mate, your face puzzled and eyes searching his mask for any further thought or action. He slowly drew his hands up to clasp around your ankle and calf, holding it firmly as he leaned forward. 

“You’re perfect,” he offered in a breathy whisper, stroking your leg and gazing lovingly into your face, “Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.” 

Your face flushed with a warmth at his words, eyes widening and looking down at his large hands as they held you so tenderly and delicately within his grasp. Smiling, you leaned forwards and placed your hand over his scarred left forearm with mischief in your eyes, asking him a simple question with a suggestive tone. 

“Like what you see then, big guy?” At your question, Usopp nearly choked on his drink. You had never been this bold before, and this came as a shock to your crew’s skilled sniper. He covered his choking with a soft cough, turning away with a downturned smile and stifling his growing laugh. 

“So much,” Killer confirmed, gently caressing your calf and looking up at you through half-hooded blonde lashes beneath his mask, “So, so much.”

[the-little-ewok]

An Unorthodox Method

Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Rating : 18+/E

Word count : 7600 (ish)

Warnings : It's the one bed trope!, Lil mild angst, lots of teasing, Poe being an adorable little shit, mentions of Poe having hearing problems/being partially deaf in one ear, fluff, banter, SMUT, PIV, fingering, marking (love bites and nail marks), praise kink if you squint, illusions to cum eating, mentions of oral f- receiving, overstimulation if you blink, aftercare, very brief mention of casual sex/one night stands.

Summary : All you want is a hot shower, some clean dry clothes, and to crawl into bed. What you absolutely do not want is Poe Dameron in that bed with you.

@campingwiththecharmings thank you so much for this request! I'm so excited to finally do the one bed trope for Poe! I hope you like it.

Special thank you to @mandinlore for the beta 😘

~~~~~~~~~

The rain hammers a steady ping ping ping on the window as you and Poe stand in the doorway to the room, your clothes soaked and sticking uncomfortably to your skin, your shoes leaving puddles of water.

"You have got to be kidding me!" You groan as Poe laughs.

You had been looking forward to a hot shower, a nice warm bed, and at least a good few hours of peace and quiet. The last part had already been thwarted by the fact some error in the hotel booking meant you only had one room with no others available, and now to add insult to injury there was only one damn bed.

"Well, this is going to be fun!" The pilot chirps happily from beside you, walking in to dump his bag on the chair and leaving wet boot prints in his wake.

Climbing into bed with the resistance's best looking pilot, who you were, if you were honest, a little bit in love with, did not constitute as fun. In fact, after the day you had spent with him, it was the very last thing you wanted to do.

Poe was always, and had always, been chatty, but today he seemed to have turned all his dials up to maximum. He'd talked non stop, made unfunny jokes, inappropriate innuendos that with anyone else you suspect he wouldn't have gotten away with, and done just about anything he could to make himself the most annoying person this side of the galaxy.

For what reason, you had no idea. You had started to suspect perhaps he had realised your warm feelings towards him, and maybe this was his way of making you hate him so he didn't have to let you down, and honestly, you might think it was starting to work.

Trudging into the room, your boots squelching with each step, you place your bags down, resigned to your probably sleepless fate.

"You want the bathroom first?" The pilot offers, despite the fact he's worse off than you, having given you his jacket to hold above your head the moment the downpour started. It hadn't helped much after the first few minutes, but you had been grateful for the shelter anyway.

You don't really register his question, your thoughts lost as you finger the worn leather coat remembering the way his scent clung to it, invading your senses as you splashed through the flooded streets.

"Hey," you look up to find the pilot watching you, his brow furrowed. "You okay?"

You drop the jacket onto the dresser, giving him a smile and a nod.

"Just sick of listening to you."

Poe snorts with laughter, grabbing the hem of his shirt and peeling it up over his head. You purposely busy yourself pulling out some dry clothes from your pack , not allowing yourself to peek, although it's a difficult battle.

"There's nobody you love listening to more than me," Poe states, thankfully not seeming to notice your internal fight of keeping your eyes off him.

You sigh, somewhat thankful his annoying cockyness is a distraction from his semi-nakedness. Picking up your sleepwear and wash bag you head towards the bathroom, trying to ignore him. Poe however gives you no quarter, trailing along behind you.

"So what exactly are the sleeping arrangements going to be?" He asks.

Frowning you turn around, your eyes deciding to flicker over his bared torso before meeting his gaze. Even the smallest glance is enough to get blood rushing through your veins, and you can feel heat blossoming across your cheeks.

Ignoring the feeling you gesture to the bed with a raise of your eyebrow.

"But what if you snore?" The pilot asks, clearly not noticing your desire to leave the room until he's decided to put some clothes on.

You pull a face, not quite understanding his issue when he's half deaf from the war anyway. The explosion that had damaged most of the resistance ships had permanently damaged his eardrums, which Poe liked to use to his advantage when he decided he wasn't going to listen to someone, although you think he hears far more than he lets on.

"Poe, you can hardly hear out of one ear as it is! Just sleep on your good ear and you probably won't hear a thing out of the other one."

He folds his arms stubbornly. "I'll hear if you're right next to my head."

"Then you are more than welcome to sleep in the bathroom once I'm done," you offer, stepping into the tiny fresher.

"Nah, I'd rather sleep in the bed. But what if you steal the covers?"

"Then you can take them back."

"What if you cuddle me in your sleep?" He fires quickly.

You give him a withering look, trying not to think about pressing your body against his, keeping your eyes trained on his face.

"Oh trust me Poe, I won't." In fact you will do everything possible not to touch him, just for your own sanity.

"But you might. I'm very into consent and if I'm asleep-" he pauses mid sentence, opening his mouth and then closing it again before leaning against the door frame. "Actually scratch all of that. I absolutely give you consent to do whatever you like to me."

The pilot grins at you and you feel a familiar surge of heat through your body, collecting and coiling in your abdomen. Combined with your patience finally snapping, it's the last straw. You slam the bathroom door in his handsome smug face.

The lukewarm shower really tops off the day.

~

"I've been thinking" Poe starts the moment he exits the bathroom, after loudly complaining through the door about you using up all the hot water.

You pinch the bridge of your nose with a sigh, the hope that he would have calmed down and go straight to sleep evaporating. You are grateful however that he's at least finally put a shirt on.

"That must hurt."

"Oi!" He protests with a shocked expression, that at least brings a little smile to your lips. He grins at you, letting you know he took no offence at your words.

"As I was saying," he continues while you lay out his clothes to dry, the ones he dumped in a wet pile in the middle of the floor. "I've been thinking, and I know what's wrong with you. I want you to know it's okay."

The way his voice suddenly goes so gentle makes you look around. The pilot holds out his hand, wrapping his fingers around yours as he pulls you closer, holding your gaze steadily. You hope he doesn't notice the way your breath catches, or the heat blazing through you that makes your hands clammy.

"It's okay to be nervous," he continues, while your mouth goes dry. "I know spending the night with me is a lot, and it's going to be so difficult for you to keep your hands to yourself, but we are going to get through this together, and you'll be able to tell everyone about it when we get home."

You snatch your hand angrily out of his while the pilot bursts into laughter.

"Grow up and get in the damn bed!" You growl, climbing into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin and turning over away from him, your heart thundering in your chest. How, even when he was joking, did he manage to get so damn close to the truth?

"Why do you want me in bed so badly, huh? Thinking about late night cuddles?" You hear the pilot ask, feeling the mattress sink with his weight.

"No. When you're asleep, you're not talking," you bite out, still stinging from the embarrassment of your reaction when he was just being his usual annoying self.

Poe ignores your hostility and you feel him shrug.

"Listen, all I'm trying to do is tell you that we could eliminate some of this sexual tension. Well, if you wanted to."

Sexual tension wasn't exactly what you would say was between you, but there was always certainly something, although with Poe you imagine he had that with everyone. With you though, your feelings for the pilot ran a little deeper, not that you'd ever dare speak those aloud. The last thing you needed was the "it's not you, it's me" speech, especially if his behaviour was to drive you away. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.

You run a hand down your face with an exasperated sigh. "There is absolutely no sexual tension, Poe. What there is, is murderous tension."

Poe lets out an exclamation of excitement.

"Oh my favourite kind!"

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop a smile, lest you encourage him to continue.

"Please Poe, go to damn sleep," you whine, pulling the pillow from under your head and pressing it against your ear, trying to block out his incessant rambling.

"I will if you admit it."

"Admit what?" You groan, frustrated. Why can't he just shut the hell up and let you get through this?

"That you've thought about us."

"Poe I swear-" you take a deep breath, grabbing the cushion with one hand, rolling over with the intent on smothering him into silence. You're surprised to find the pilot on his side, almost nose to nose with you in the small bed.

"You've seriously never thought about us kissing?" Poe interrupts.

"I…I…" you’re thrown by his closeness, by his long lashes and soft smile, by the damn doe eyed look he's giving you.

You know there's no shutting him up until you tell him what he wants to hear so you take a breath. It wouldn't exactly be news to him, Poe knew just about everyone had considered kissing him at some point or another. The man did come with a reputation for having a rather skillful mouth after all.

"Fine! Maybe once or twice. Now go to damn sleep!" You growl, annoyed at him, and yourself.

The shit eating grin he gives you is enough to make you turn back over, tucking the pillow under your head and shutting your eyes tightly, as though that alone might drown him out.

"I knew it," he gloats with a happy sigh, clicking off the bedside lamp.

You grip the pillow, considering the option you still have of smothering him.

Thankfully he's quiet from that point and infuriatingly asleep in less than five minutes. You can feel the mattress move with his slow steady breaths.

Glancing over your shoulder he's laid out on his back, one arm tucked under his head, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he dreams, his full lips open with a soft sigh.

Turning around again you punch the lumpy pillow, trying to get more comfortable.

You will not think about kissing him. That was a one time thing. Okay, maybe three or four. Well maybe more… a lot more. You're determined tonight for once, you will not fall asleep thinking about his mouth on yours, you will absolutely not think about his lips on your skin, or his fingers caressing your breasts…

Someone suddenly shakes you and you open your eyes groggily, the room swimming and blurred as you blink sleep from your vision.

"What the hell?" You grumble, looking up at the pilot with his sleep tousled curls, still half asleep himself, one eye still shut and the other half open, bathed in the soft moonlight glow that sneaks through the blinds.

"You said my name," he mumbles, voice still sleep gravelled. "You alright?"

Flashes of his mouth sealed over your nipple, his tongue darting out to lick a path down to your navel, your hand gripping his hair, his mouth between your thighs.

Oh no. You absolutely did not have a sex dream about him. Not now, not here. Please no!

"You must have dreamt it," you swallow, desperately trying to play it cool. If Poe heard you while he was dead asleep, then you must have been loud. You feel the heat prickling the back of your neck.

"No, I definitely heard you say Poe," he insists.

"Well even if I did I'm fine so you can go back to sleep," you insist, shifting your legs restlessly. You're too warm. Well not just warm, burning hot, sweat cooling on your skin, an uncomfortable ache between your legs that screams of unsatisfied desire.

"You sure? You sounded a bit…breathless?" The pilot asks again, genuine concern in his tone. Although you can barely see him in the dim lighting you can still see the frown pulling his brows together, both eyes now open and studying you. You really don't want him to press any further. Even his voice brings back flashes of the dream, sultry whispers in your ear, his tongue lapping at your folds, the cry of his name from your mouth.

You swallow again, pushing the thoughts away.

"Really, I'm fine. Must have been a nightmare if it involved you anyway."

"Ouch." He holds his hands over his chest, collapsing back onto the mattress as though you wounded him, giving a long drawn out dramatic death rattle.

Pulling up the covers you throw them over his head with a laugh.

"Go back to sleep, Flyboy."

Laying back you shuffle as close to the edge as you can, putting as much distance as possible between you and the pilot. You wonder if it would be better for you to stay awake, just in case your dreams come back to haunt you. You absolutely wouldn't get away with saying his name a second time.

"It's okay you know," Poe speaks suddenly into the darkness as you lay rigid beside him. "If you were dreaming about me. I wouldn't mind."

You can't help but snort with laughter at that.

"You wouldn't mind if anyone dreams about you."

"True," Poe admits. You feel him shift and even though you can't see him, your eyes staring up at the ceiling, his gaze burns you.

"Let me rephrase. I'd like it if you dreamt about me." He continues.

When you don't turn to face him or grace him with an answer, you feel the shift of the mattress again as he lays back.

"I'm sorry," he sighs, and for once it sounds genuine, not a hint of playfulness in his tone. "I thought this would cheer you up. It's been a long week and you've just seemed so… I don't know. Not yourself, like you're bottling everything up. I figured maybe if you were thinking about how annoying I was, or making you laugh and fight with me, it would give you a bit of a distraction and an outlet, but I get it, maybe I took it too far, even if it is the truth."

It had been a long week, the longest in fact. While the mission itself had been a success, you had seen a lot of the First Order's destruction in the process, and it was worse than either of you had realised. You'd felt melancholy for days, the sights you've witnessed replaying in your mind. You hadn't noticed it much at the time, too lost in your own thoughts and angry that he was so loud that it was impossible to hear yourself think, but the more you think about it, the more you realise what he's been doing — trying to make you smile, keeping you distracted, making you focus on anything but what's happened. All you've done is complain to him about it.

Guilt twists hard in your stomach.

How typical of Poe to try and be helpful in the most unconventional way.

Part of you wants to reach for him, to cuddle him tight against you and thank him, to tell him you're here for him too if he needs someone. The other part keeps you rigidly pinned to the mattress, afraid to move in case so much as a finger brushes up against him, unsure if you can hold yourself back with the lingering memory of the dream.

"You mean the truth is that you really are worried I snore?" You ask, trying to break the unbearable tension.

His answer is the most serious he's sounded all day. There isn't a trace of humour, of teasing, just a tiredness, the kind that comes from pretending to smile all day, the kind that signals a surrender.

"No, I could live with that. I mean the dreaming part. I'd like it if you dreamt about me."

"Oh." You can't find anything else to say to that, your heart hammering so loudly in your chest you're sure even through his damaged ear he can hear it.

The ongoing silence suddenly feels heavy, like a crushing weight on your chest, the truth feels like lead in your belly. Poe hasn't made a single noise in a while but you get the distinct feeling he isn't asleep. You wonder if he's laying still too, muddling through his thoughts.

You can't take back your behaviour towards him but you can at least give him something in return.

"Poe?"

The response is instant, "Yeah?"

You take a breath, swallowing hard, your fingers twisting into the sheet at the edge of the bed, nervously gripping them.

"Every day," you whisper quietly.

"Huh?"

You feel a slight shift as he must turn to look at you.

You clear your throat, staring hard enough at the ceiling that your eyes start to burn, repeating yourself louder.

"I said every day. I lied earlier. It's not once or twice. I think about kissing you every day. I have for a while," you admit.

A sudden blinding light obscures your vision, making you cry out in surprise and squeeze your eyes shut against the sudden intrusion. Coloured lights flash behind your eyelids and you have to blink a few times in order to see anything.

When the room comes back into focus Poe is sitting bolt upright in the bed, staring down at you, the bedside lamp illuminating his head like a synthetic halo.

"You were dreaming about me!"

With a groan you grab the pillow and hold it over your own face, deciding if you can't smother him you could just smother yourself instead, which seems like the better option than actually having this conversation.

You feel the pillow tug back gently, but you hold fast, refusing to give it up.

"Come on, let go and talk to me. You've said it now." A grunt of effort and a hard tug on the pillow before Poe sighs. "I'm not going away so you're either going to suffocate or talk."

"Then I'll suffocate," you mumble into the pillow, already regretting saying anything.

"You know I can't hear you right? Come on." This time he tucks his fingers under yours and peels them off the pillow cover until it falls halfway off your face.

"Better," he smiles, letting go of your hands to remove it entirely. "Why are you hiding from me?"

"I don't want to see your smug smile about how right you are," you glare, trying to hide your embarrassment that you've blurted out exactly what you've been trying to conceal from him. Once more, Poe takes your attitude in his stride.

"I've thought about kissing you too, you know? In fact I've thought about kissing you at least four times since you woke me up." He gives a shrug, like you should know that, like it's completely utterly normal for someone to think about kissing you that many times in the space of ten minutes.

You bite your lip, familiar tendrils of desire reigniting in your belly. Your body, still clearly on edge from your illicit dream, thrums with tension.

"So why haven't you done it yet?"

Poe rolls his eyes, as though the answer is obvious. "Clearly I'm building up the sexual tension for it!"

You're done letting him have the upper hand in this. In a surge of confidence, and to stop the smug look on his face, you wrap your hand around the back of the pilot's neck, before you pull his lips to yours. You feel Poe's brief smile, probably of victory, against your mouth before he kisses you back.

It's soft at first, almost sweet tender kisses, short and playful, getting to know each other. He kisses your top and bottom lip, he gives you tiny pecks of affection, he licks playfully at your bottom lip.

Effortlessly he shifts his weight over you, slotting himself between your thighs as though you were made to fit together. His tongue licks into your mouth, slick and hot, sliding against your own as he presses his body against yours, your kisses descending into something much more passionate.

Maker, the rumours weren't wrong. He is good at this, better than good actually, infuriatingly good. You can't even find any fault to tease him about.

You tangle your fingers in his curls, tugging gently and causing the pilot to moan into your mouth. You give a shiver of desire at the sound, your mind filled with thoughts of how you can draw it from him in other ways. Poe's mind seems to be on a similar track, his hips grinding against yours, pressing himself against your core and causing you to let out a gasp of surprise at the jolt of pleasure.

Perhaps there was a little sexual tension after all.

The pilot pulls away, his chest heaving, eyes dark and lips kiss swollen, his curls messy and tousled from your fingers.

"Fuck, sorry. I didn't mean to get carried away so quickly," he apologises, swallowing hard as he clearly tries to get a handle on himself, holding his body off yours, allowing a brief respite for you both to collect yourselves.

"I don't mind getting carried away," you admit, still feeling feverish with his closeness, your mind filled with the fantasy of your dreams. You raise your hips, pressing up against his clothed length, making the pilot let out a choked moan of surprise before his eyes darken.

"Well in that case," he grins, recovering all too quickly. Desire coils in your belly and before you can drag his mouth back to yours, in true Poe fashion, he continues talking. "Why don't you tell me what I was doing in this dream of yours?"

You give him a coy smile. As if he's going to get it out of you that easily.

"Fulfilling my deepest fantasy," you answer as Poe licks his lips, eagerly leaning forward to listen.

"Oh yeah? What fantasy might that be?"

"You were quiet for a whole five minutes," you sigh dreamily. It takes a second to register with him before he leans back bursting out laughing. You can't help but start to giggle yourself.

"Okay, I deserved that!" He laughs. "My methods may be unorthodox, but they work!"

He was entirely correct in that him being his usual annoying self was exactly what you had needed as a distraction, although you're sure there were less annoying ways to achieve the same means.

"I don't know. I actually considered murdering you at least a few times. Maybe I still will, when you're fast asleep and least expecting it," you warn, running a finger along your throat in a playful threat.

Poe hums, leaning back down over you, caging you to the bed with his arms.

"What exactly makes you think either of us will be going back to sleep?"

Oh.

There's another rush of heat that tingles against your skin, shooting straight down to your aching core. It's not at all helped by the fact Poe leans down to capture your lips, his tongue slipping between your teeth as he moves one hand to grip your hip, sliding it slowly up your body and under your shirt to trail his fingers across your breast.

You moan into his mouth as he rolls your peaked nipple between his fingers, grinding yourself up against him, uncaring of whatever commentary he wants to make as long as you can deal with this rapidly intensifying desire.

When he finally pulls away once more it's hard to get your breath, especially as he continues to steal little kisses from you, his fingers still resting against your skin.

Bracing himself on one arm above you, the other slides down to tiptoe over your hip.

"Do I have your consent to remove these ugly pants?" He grins teasingly, pulling at the waistband of your shorts. They had seen better days in all fairness but you hadn't really considered anyone else seeing them.

"Hey, they aren't that bad! Not like you're the pinnacle of fashion." In retaliation you poke your finger through a hole in the leg of his threadbare sleep pants, making the pilot laugh.

"These are my lucky pants."

You can't help but snort with a roll of your eyes. "That's the stupidest thing I've heard."

Poe raises one eyebrow, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

"They got you into my bed didn't they?"

You scoff, "The hotel management got me into this bed."

"You know what, you're right. Maybe I should go thank them now," Poe muses, his grin turning into a laugh as you wrap your arms around him, preventing him from leaving.

"Will you please just stop talking?" You laugh, wondering how much of the night is even left. You swear if the sun rises and you haven't resolved this, you will combust of need, and you will take the pilot out with you.

Poe raises his eyebrows.

"Well, I would, but you still haven't answered my original question."

You stare at him, trying to figure out what exactly he's talking about before you realise.

"For the love of… Yes Poe, I give you consent to do whatever you want to me as long as you stop dragging this out like a massive tease!"

The pilot lets out a soft chuckle, leaning down to brush his nose against yours, a soft gesture in a stark contrast to what leaves his mouth, "dangerous words, sweetheart."

You almost shudder with the flash of desire that bolts through you, making sharp heat rush across your skin and your pussy clench.

"I need you to make me a promise first though," his fingers slip across your abdomen, resting just above the waistband of your pants. The feverish desire at his touch is overshadowed by annoyance that he's still talking. Maker, you swear he won't survive till sunrise.

"Po-

"I'm going to need you to be loud," he purrs in your ear, cutting you off as his hand slips under your waistband. "I don't want to miss a single noise you make."

Even if you wanted to be quiet, the pad of his finger slipping across your clit causes your body to react in a primal way, letting out an embarrassing loud moan for such a little touch.

Poe chuckles.

"Just like that." He praises, sliding his finger down further to dip into your entrance, letting out a soft groan of his own at how wet you are, before he drags it back up, spreading your slick over your aching clit and making you whine again. "Can you do that for me? Can you be loud enough?"

The best you can muster is a whimper as he slowly thrusts his finger knuckle deep into you.

"Nu-huh," Poe chides, "loud."

A second finger quickly joins the first, stretching your walls and filling you more than your own ever could. This time you arch your back off the bed, chasing the blissful feeling as a much louder groan tears itself from your throat.

"Better," Poe grins. "I heard that one."

You want to smother him, you want to kiss him, but most of all, despite his annoying little smug smile, you still desperately want to fuck him.

You decide on option two, at least for the moment, pulling his lips down to yours.

His tongue licks into your mouth as he thrusts his fingers inside you at a leisurely pace, swallowing each whine and moan you give at the pleasure skittering and coiling in you.

Poe curls his fingers, pressing up against that spot inside you, making you pull away from his kiss to throw your head back in pleasure, a loud groan of his name escaping. You're half expecting him to make some sort of cocky comment, but Poe seems as lost in this as you are. He drops his head to press open mouthed kisses across your neck, biting and sucking, marking and claiming you as his.

When he works a third finger into you, his thumb brushing against your clit, you come undone. Normally you would feel embarrassed about how loud you are, the way your body shudders and heaves, your pussy clenching hard around his fingers, but the shaky little fuck Poe groans in your ear, obliterates any notion of embarrassment.

As you come down from your high, your body still trembling from the aftershock, whining as he slips his fingers from you, you realise he's breathing almost as heavily as you are, his breath coming out in short pants as he looks you over.

"I need to fuck you," he growls, clearly struggling with his own needs.

You're already nodding before he gets halfway through his request. Whatever he needs, whatever he wants, you'll give it to him without hesitation.

He all but tears your pyjamas from you, making short work of removing them and throwing them across the room, before his join the unceremonious pile on the floor.

This time you allow yourself to look, you allow yourself to take in his broad chest, the little scars crisscrossed with a larger one, old and new, your gaze trailing down across his abdomen to the line of hair that guides your eyes down to -

"Are you done admiring?" Poe's amused tone makes your eyes snap back up to his, your face growing warm with embarrassment that you've been caught staring, although you know he has probably done exactly the same to you.

"I don't know about admiring," you shrug as though your pussy isn't pulsing at the thought of him burying his cock deep inside you. "Think the resistance needs to re-evaluate their best looking pilot status."

Poe simply grins at you, seeing through your nonchalance all too clearly.

"Good to know you like what you see. Tell me, how wet did it make you to see me earlier, all soaked and shirtless?"

"Didn't," is all you are able to punch out as he leans down, pressing his body against yours, rolling his hips just slightly so his hard cock brushes against your slick folds, holding himself at your entrance like the tease he is.

"Really?" He smirks, "Somehow I think you are lying. But alright, I'll get the truth out of you, one way or another." The threat gives you a rush of excitement, wondering exactly how he's going to do that. Not that you're going to let him know that so easily.

"Are you going to keep talking or are we going to-" your question cuts off into a gasp of pleasure as he presses himself inside you, slowly, so you can feel every vein and ridge as he stretches your walls.

"Are we going to what?" He grins.

You slap his arm in reply but there's no power behind it, you're too busy concentrating on the wet noise as he pulls out of you before slowly pressing back in, making you whimper in need. The first time your pussy clenches around him it's involuntary, the second time it's just to enjoy the little groan the action draws from the pilot.

"Stop," he warns, his head dropping to your shoulder, clearly trying to steady his breathing as you clench around him a third time, just for fun. "Taking it slow."

"You don't have to take it slow," you assure him. For a moment you think it's sweet he's considering your comfort but you're more than ready for this.

"I want to," he grits as you clench around him again. The tone of his voice lets you know he's digging his stubborn heels in and nothing will change his mind. Even so you need more than he's offering. This has gone on too long, the tension is too much, the need drumming through your veins screams to be sated.

You whine, you beg, you plead, you drag your nails along his back and arch your hips against him, but he doesn't give. He rocks into you slowly, achingly slowly, maddeningly slowly, and for all your initial protests you enjoy every second of it.

The pleasure builds just as slow, each roll of his hips winding the cord tighter and tighter until you're sure you can't take any more, and then it pulls further. You can't do anything but surrender to the bliss it offers, raising your hips to meet his in the hopes his resolve will eventually break.

"You're incredible you know?" He pants against your mouth, sweat beading at his hairline, his curls sticking to his forehead, his eyes hooded and glazed. "Not just at this, but this too."

All you can do is stare at him, somewhat dazed, wondering how he's even thinking in coherent sentences right now, let alone speaking them. Somewhere your subconscious registers his words and it accompanies a host of butterflies in your belly.

"Just you, exactly as you are. You are incredible," he repeats, only this time it comes with a much harder thrust. You arch against him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your head drops back against the pillows.

"Poe, please," you beg, unsure if you are able to take much more. Clearly neither can he, his name on your lips undoing his patience. He wraps his fingers around your thigh, hoisting your leg up over his hip as he sinks deeper into you, picking up the pace.

His hips slam into yours, filling the room with the sound of flesh on flesh, accompanied only by his curses and praises that fall freely and loudly. For all his requests for you to be loud the pilot's own moans are enough to drown yours out.

Working a hand between your bodies you press a finger to your clit, rubbing tight circles around the hardened nub as Poe angles his hips, pressing up against the blissful spot inside you. Your whole body almost arches up off the bed with the combined pleasure catapulting through you, an almost screamed curse fighting its way out of your throat.

Poe groans low and shakily, barely holding his own climax back, his thrusts becoming messy and mistimed.

"That's it baby. Fuck wanna feel you cum, wanna hear you," he groans, completely wrecked.

That's all it takes. Your orgasm hits suddenly and brightly, your whole body writhing and stiffening as the pleasure overtakes you, coursing through your veins like lava, making your vision go white as you tremble through it. Poe had wanted to hear you, but the purely feral noise you let out, you wouldn't be surprised if the whole damn hotel heard you. You're sure Poe would probably enjoy it if they did.

It's almost too much for your oversensitive body to feel Poe thrusting into you faster and harder, chasing his own end, babbled curses and praises falling from his lips. You shake with overstimulation when his hips stutter, emptying himself deep inside you, your nails leaving crescent moons on his shoulders as you cling desperately to him, your thighs trembling, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Poe half collapses on you, letting your leg down slowly as he presses soft kisses to your neck, against every love bite he's given you in the heat of the moment. You suspect there may be quite a few questions when you get back to the base tomorrow. Turning your head you press a soft kiss to his cheek, making him lean up to look at you.

"Better than you dreamt?" He grins, still flushed and panting.

"I didn't dream about that," you giggle breathlessly, shaking limbs melting into the mattress, sated and tired. Poe raises his eyebrows, letting out a thoughtful hum before he suddenly pulls out of you, making you whimper and immediately miss the feeling of him inside you.

Shuffling down your body he presses a soft kiss between your breasts. You frown at him, confused by his sudden movement and how he still has so much energy. How is it you're a wrecked mess and he's still acting like he can go another ten rounds? Why can't he just be still for one second?

Another kiss to your ribs, first the right side, then the left, moving slowly down, before he pauses, looking up through his lashes at you.

"You didn't dream about us making love?"

You go to make fun of his choice of language but before you have a chance he licks a hot stripe down to your naval, making your breath catch with the sudden rush of pleasure. You're starting to question if he's able to read your thoughts, if he knows the truth of your dream already. Perhaps you had said more than just his name in your sleep?

"Nope, not about us," you breathe unsteadily, trying to hold yourself back from begging anything from him again. You suspect you know what's coming next and honestly, you're not sure if your body is able to handle it, barely over your first two climaxes. Still you weren't about to give in to his questions, he'd never shut up if you admit it. "Told you, I wasn't dreaming about you."

"You are a terrible liar," Poe states, his hands gripping your thighs, pushing them apart. The rush of cold air against your heated flesh makes you gasp and the pilot smirks, his eyes flickering down to your swollen cunt, leaking with your combined climax before coming back to you, a devilish grin taking over his face.

"'Whatever I want to do to you' still stand?" He asks.

All you can do is nod mutely, a fresh wave of need building despite your exhaustion.

"Good," Poe grins, pinning your thighs to the mattress, preventing you from moving. "Because I'm going to get the truth out of you my way."

He does exactly that. He drags the truth out of you to every question he wants answered and more, twice with his mouth, then again with his cock, reducing you to a babbling trembling mess, willing to tell him whatever he wanted to know, and he's infuriatingly smug about it.

~

Poe had been surprisingly tender afterwards. He'd carefully cleaned you up, brought you a glass of water, massaged your sore muscles, before he'd finally pulled you into his arms, holding you close against him.

Of course you had known Poe was kind, of course you knew he took care of the people he was close to, even those who only spent the night with him. There were enough stories around the base to give you a general idea of that, but for some reason you can't place this felt different, it felt intimate.

What surprised you more than anything was how quiet he was now. Appart from a few murmured words about how good you had been for him, and to check you were alright, he hadn't said much at all. It was almost unnerving after his behaviour all day. Really if you had known this would have shut him up you might have jumped on him hours ago. But now, the silence seems worrying.

"You okay?" You ask, your head still against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as his fingers draw mindless patterns against your back.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I was just thinking…maybe we can do this again? Sometime soon? Be in the same bed I mean." The pilot asks. He doesn't sound like the cocky confident Flyboy you're expecting. If anything he sounds a little unsure of his own question.

You won't give him the satisfaction of the enthusiastic yes that tries to escape. The last thing you want out of this night is to become some regular casual hook-up. Poe wasn't exactly known for keeping long term relationships, citing the fact it was too difficult during the middle of a war, which you suppose you could understand. He was at least always very clear about that with whoever he got involved with.

Equally you don't want to say no. You want this, him. You want the moments of passion and quiet, you want the teasing and fights, you want more in whatever way you can.

In the end you go for the middle ground, giving him an option of more, while closely guarding yourself against this being a casual fuck.

"Hmm, suppose if you buy me dinner first then I might consider it. I don't make a habit of sleeping with people without dates."

It's disarmingly sweet when he presses a soft kiss to your head, tightening his arm around you. Your chest aches all the more for moments like this.

"Alright. A date it is." You can hear the smile in his voice, sleepy and happy.

You didn't exactly expect him to agree to that so easily, and while it gives you a flutter of hope, you don't quite trust he catches your meaning.

"I said I'd consider, I didn't say I'd agree. I might have other options," you warn, trying to get him to consider what he wants you to be to him.

Poe lets out a soft chuckle.

"You say that like your pretending it wasn't the best fuck of your life, and you're desperate to do it again."

You lean up on your arm to look at him, raising an eyebrow and fixing him with an unimpressed look at his cockyness.

"Tell me I'm wrong," he challenges confidently, "because if I am, then I'm just going to have to keep trying. The aim is to make you fall hopelessly in love with me eventually."

"Through sex?" You laugh, ignoring the now familiar butterflies that tell you he might be closer to his aim than he knows.

Poe shrugs, "through whatever necessary means, as long as I get to keep you as mine."

It's almost a knee jerk reaction to open your mouth and tell him you aren't a pet or property to be owned, but as you meet his gaze you realise you are once more judging him a little too quickly and all too harshly. It's clear he means more than that, his gaze open and vulnerable.

A warm feeling of familiarity, of safety, of something bigger, spreads through your very bones, something that shows there is much more than lust and affection, perhaps for both of you.

Your response is much softer than your initial reaction might have been, had you not taken a moment.

"Take me to dinner tomorrow then?"

"I think tomorrow might be today," Poe smiles, nodding towards the window where the faint pink light of dawn is starting to peek through the drawn blinds. You groan knowing sunrise both means you really should untangle yourself from the pilot and head back to base.

"Well honestly I think I've had enough of you for one day." You tease, pushing yourself off him and sitting up, debating if you can handle another cold shower. In all honesty a cold shower is probably exactly what you need after you make the mistake of glancing down at Poe, still naked, the sheet barely covering his more private parts, his curls messy from your fingers, peering up at you with a half smile.

"We both know you can never get enough of me," Poe states, before he wraps his arms around you and drags you back down onto the bed. He throws one leg over yours, effectively trapping you next to him as he snuggles up close to you.

You don't bother fighting, too tired from the night's activity to argue your way out of his grip. Sighing you sink into the bed, allowing your eyes to flutter closed.

"I knew this would work," Poe hums happily in your ear. You mumble enough of a sound to make him realise you're asking what he means.

"Getting you in a hotel room with me would make you admit you wanted me."

You give another tired hum in acknowledgement before his words finally hit you, and you sit up to stare at him, suddenly wide awake. Poe grins back at you, knowing exactly what you are thinking.

"Tell me this was not some plan to get me into bed!"

Poe feigns a comedic shocked expression, holding one hand to his chest as he stares open mouthed at you.

"Of course not! What do you think of me? Why is your opinion of me is so low that you think I'd go as far to break the ship engine, so we'd be stuck here alone, find the busiest hotel on this planet, specifically book one room knowing the others would be booked already by the time we got here, ask for the smallest bed-"

He doesn't get to continue. Picking up the pillow you repeatedly hit him hard with it while Poe laughs, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I'm joking. I'm joking, I swear," he laughs, grabbing his own pillow and hitting you back. "I'd never purposely break a ship."

"You manipulative little shit,"

Neither of you surrender until the bed is covered with feathers, the pillowcases empty and discarded, your limbs tangled together, lips pressed against sweat salted skin. This time it's you who pries the truth from him, your way.

"My methods may be unorthodox but -" he gets no further before you smack him in the face with your pillow, causing him to dissolve into laughter once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[007reid]

sub spence returning from prison :( hasn’t been inside for way too long and he’s extra whiny and sensitive </3 and reader is usually more teasing but after being so long she’s just soft and giving to everything he desires

FERAAALLLL!!! enjoy hun🤍

dreams. spencer reid (18+)

spencer reid x fem!reader, 3k (it got a bit out of control...)

summary: exactly what the prompt says😻 tiny bit of angst cuz it’s post prison spencer, cmon

warnings: sub spencer x dom fem!reader, masturbating (fem), unprotected sex, p in v, handjob, fingering, riding, creampie, cum play kinda. just spencer being a pathetic lil boy. tell me if i missed anything!

spencer’s been more closed off, and you get it. you do. you had expected more excitement, more of the banter and things to go back like normal like it was before it happened but you know it’s all wishful thinking. it hurts, to accept that your spencer isn’t really your spencer anymore, it’s that damned prison’s spencer; not your sweet spencer who wears scarves and has christmas lights in his eyes all year long but the prison’s spencer who looks half dead and trudging through everyday miserable.

you know he’s trying his best too, and that part hurts the most. he tries to smile for you, tries to replace all the pieces and put it back but no piece fits. you keep reassuring yourself. baby steps. you’ll make it work. you’ll have to.

today has been your favorite day yet, and the day has barely even started. instead of being on the other side of the bed, curling up into himself and staying as far away from you as possible, you wake up to find his head buried in your neck with his arm thrown over your stomach, curls tickling your jaw.

“im afraid to touch you, y/n,” spencer had admitted, his first week back. he looked guilty and ashamed. “you’re too clean for me to touch. my hands are dirty. they’re always dirty.”

still sleepy, you reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers, tracing the skin of his wrist. at the touch, spencer immediately jolts awake and backs himself up before the sleepiness even clears from his face. your boy used to be able to sleep through turbulence on the plane and your heart breaks at the anxiety in his eyes.

his breathing is rushed as he settles down, unconsciously scooting further away from you as you try latching onto the sleeve of his shirt. "sorry, i'm sorry," you whisper over and over. "i'm sorry honey, i didn't mean to--"

"i know you didn't," spencer snaps and you backtrack. his face crumbles and he hides his head in his hands. the table turns and sorry's falls out his mouth like rain drops during a storm. "i don't mean to snap, i just got scared, in the cell i..." he trails off, frowning at himself. ever since he's got back he refuses to tell you about anything that's happened in there, stopping and cutting himself off whenever he accidentally does and you guess it's for the better. "'m sorry." he brush away the sheets and gets off the bed. "i'll be right back."

you know better than to follow as he heads to the bathroom, door closing shut and locked behind him. you stare at the dent in the mattress that's finally there after sleeping alone for three months and hops off the bed yourself, going to make coffee.

***

spencer starts relaxing as the day goes on, not by much but you notice it. he probably feels bad for what happened in the morning and just wants to make it up to you by being what you want him to be; soft and affectionate like he used to and finally letting himself to touch you, linger his fingers over your arm as he passes you while you make breakfast and sitting close enough to where you both touch.

it's night, and you're in a simple tank, ready for bed. spencer's head is in your lap and the tv plays a random show but your attention is on smoothing out the spencer's curls, tugging and pulling until you get a purring spencer reid in your lap, eyes closed and humming contently to himself.

"you tired yet?" you ask, eyes on the tv. spencer nuzzles his head closer to your stomach.

"mhm. no."

"kay," you dip your head down, sparing a kiss on the pouting boy's lips, aiming for a light, sweet peck because spencer's not really ready for anything else otherwise but you're surprised when he starts to deepen it, teeth nagging at your bottom lip, asking. out of breath, you pull back and he sits up from your lap, crashing into you again and he's insistent, needy as little pants fall from his lips as you press him against the couch, climbing on top of him.

"missed you so much," spencer breathe, hands closing around your hips and tugging you closer. legs positioned outwards from either side of his torso, he moans into your mouth when the heat of your clothed pussy rub gently against his hardening cock and you miss this almost as much as you miss him, spending all three months either too depressed to do anything or cumming from your fingers and then hugging his pillow later.

you run your thumb over the spit on his lip, crooning. "look so pretty," you whisper, rutting against his hips. spencer whines, soft and desperate, a hand hesitantly coming up to grope at your breast, sandwiching your hardening nipple between his fingers. "been so long, spence, you forgot how to touch me?" you tease at the unsureness and awkwardness in the way he moves to touch you. spencer shakes his head frantically.

"dreamt about you," he says eagerly, pressing his lips on the side of your mouth and then all over your face. "every night. missed you so so bad. fuck, y/n," he gasps as you start grinding on him, impatient.

you kiss him hard, pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing as you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, just having him like this, pliant and here and not away. "what," you say, between kisses, each one messier and rushed than the last. "what did you dream about?" spencer whines. "hm?"

he falters, face getting visibly red under the dim lighting. he mumbles something under his breath, and you sneak a hand between your pressed bodies, palming him through his navy owl pajamas. "speak up, honey," you say, and spencer squirms, bucking his hips forward into your palm.

"i dreamed a lot of dreams," he says in a rush, breathing heavily, cheeks rosy. it's not the answer you're looking for. you tut.

"you know that's not what i asked, spence," you say, hand on his jaw as you push his face up to look at you. his eyes are blown wide, pupils dilated and lips red and parted, looking the spitting image of what you've been fingerfucking yourself to for months.

he whimpers, words stuck to his throat, embarrassed. you press your hand harder against his dick and his head knocks into your shoulder, burying his face in your neck, too humiliated to look at you in the eyes. "i dreamed you touched yourself and rode me and said i couldn't touch and couldn't cum but i did anyway 'cause i'm fucking pathetic," he confesses against your skin. "woke up and couldn't even touch myself cause of my cellmates and i--" your hands slip under his shirt and spencer does a full body shiver, your fingers hot against his skin.

"does that mean you haven't cum since you've been in there baby?" spencer ignores you, too distracted as you sway your hips against his rock hard cock. "spencer,"

he whines, and that's enough of an answer for you. "my poor baby," you coo, digging your fingers into his hair. "so wind up."

"need you," he whimpers, hands frantically clawing at your side, trying to touch as much of you as possible. "needa be in you, please. please,"

"in bed baby," you kiss him sweetly, wrapping your legs around his waist as he stands, supporting you with only one arm. you leave hickies on his neck while you wait for him to reach the bedroom, running your tongue over his skin to soothe them.

he lays you on the bed gently, tall frame towering over you as he sets you down but spencer still cowers under you despite it all. you remove your shirt and shorts as he settles down and when you turn around, he's staring, unabashedly, cock making an obvious dent in his thin pajamas, and the opportunity basically presented itself.

you start to slowly spread your legs, propping yourself up with your elbows and trailing a hand between your legs to rest at your lace panties. a devilish smirk on your face as spencer’s adam’s apple bobs visibly, brown eyes hungry and waiting as you press slight pressure on your clothed clit, knocking your head back.

spencer scrambles up to a sitting position, anxiously looking at you. “y/n,” he says, voice unusually high, flustered. “don’t—“ his voice breaks off as you start moving your fingers in circle-eights, sighing to yourself. “don’t—come here.”

you shoot him a warning look when he starts coming closer. spencer freezes. “thought this was what you wanted, pretty boy,” you purr. there is already a patch of wetness in your panties, and you linger your fingers at the waistband.

“not now,” spencer whines, insistent. “i’m so hard, wanna be in you so bad, please,” and despite how much prison had hardened him up, turned him into an entirely different person, spencer is still luckily the same in bed; easy to wind up and begs to get what he wants. too often it doesn’t work in his favor. tonight it might.

“you know what to do, baby boy,” you tell him, nudging your underwear off and tossing it somewhere in the room. spencer backs off, curling up into himself as his eyes remain pasted on you, watching. staring. you’re soaked, rubbing slowly at your clit, the air cool against your pussy. you keep an eye open, watching spencer for his ticks and reactions and it turns you on even more, seeing how desperate and needy he is, trying to rut against the sheets as you dip a finger inside yourself.

“none of that spence,” you tut. “you know that’s not the rules.”

he sighs frustratedly, stopping in his tracks, ever the good and obedient boy for you. you continue to play with yourself, slowly working up to two fingers and pressing down on your clit with your thumb, hearing spencer’s indiscreet panting from the other side of the bed as he watches, puppy eyes in full effect as he silently begs to have you closer. you whine as you curl your fingers inside yourself, and spencer’s just about had it.

“y/n,” he pleas, sounding like he’s about to cry. “i—it’s hurts, i wanna…”

you take pity on him. you’re all stripped naked and he’s still fully clothed, down to the halloween themed socks. “what do you want honey?”

“i—“ spencer gasps, squirming on the sheets. “uuhhgg…gonna cum i—“

“you gonna cum just from watching me touch myself?” you ask, amused. fair enough, he hasn’t cum in three months and you’re surprised he’s not permanently hard at this point. “gonna cum in your pants like a teenager spence? how pathetic are you?”

“y/n!” his voice trembles and he sounds so sweet, so needy for you and you give in. it’s hard not to, and you keep up at the act but at the end of the day spencer always gets what he wants. the begging strategy does do him some good.

you crawl over to him, placing yourself on his lap and he’s extremely hard beneath you, cock curving up from the thinness of his pajamas, getting a real good look at him. his eyes are rimmed red and tears are threatening to spill out and you lift his shirt over his head. “god youre so fucking beautiful,” you throw his shirt off the bed, tilting his head up to look at you. spencer groans at your words, hands immediately going to touch you, roaming your bare skin and nails digging into your waist.

“missed you,” he whimpers, lips at your neck as you get his bottoms off. “want this everyday, think of you everyday, fuck—“

“so hard for me honey,” you coo, stroking him through his underwear and then getting that off too. his cock, finally naked presses against his stomach, is a raging red, beads of precum leaking at the tip. “prettiest boy,” you whisper in his ear, taking his cock in your hand, smearing the precum over his cock as soft whimpers falls out of his mouth, inching closer to your touch.

“y/n,” he says, and it seems like it’s the only thing he can say. “y/n, y/n—“ you start to grind on him, sliding your pussy against his cock and spencer turns delirious, squeezing at your hips and wanton sounds coming out of his mouth, begging and cursing for nothing at all. the head of his cock rubs against the entrance of your pussy and the both of you moan, hips collapsing into each other.

his fingers finds their way to your entrance and begins prodding, and you whine as his middle finger slides in, thick and just right and it’s the feeling you’ve been trying to replicate but can’t get. “you’re so tight yn, fuck,”

“add another finger, spence,” you demand. spencer does, and the stretch burns only temporarily and you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and reeling yourself in so you can be as close to him as possible. lifting your hips, you start to fuck yourself on his fingers, impatient and horny and spencer is looking at you with fucking stars in his eyes, awed.

you never get too emotional or whiny during sex, that’s mostly all spencer but you can’t help bury your face in the dip of his shoulder blades and muffle your high moans against his skin, just glad that your spencer is back and this isn’t a cruel dream. spencer pulls his fingers out and you let out a displeased sigh. reaching down, you take spencer’s cock in your hands, smeared all over the tip with his precum and your wetness and spencer’s breath hitches in this throat, nearly jumping away at your touch.

you slowly guide his dick to your entrance, lifting your hips and all spencer does is watch, getting special treatment as you do all the work, slapping his dick against your pussy, eliciting a filthy sound from the both of you before rubbing the head of his cock against your open pussy. before he’s even in, spencer is already making these ridiculous noises, begging and panting and whimpering, hair falling into his eyes and sweat beading on his nose.

you quickly swoop down in a brave motion, bottoming out and it hurts, only temporarily before the stretch eases into pleasure and you miss it, miss him, so damn much and spencer’s already in another fucking world, nails digging at your hips.

“fuck, fuck, y/n—“ he whimpers weakly, chanting your name like a mantra as you start to move your hips, riding yourself on his cock. you know he can’t last any longer and you’re surprised he’s even managed to last this long so far, pulling out until your pussy is clenching at the tip of his cock and slamming yourself into his hips, and everytime time you do this spencer makes the prettiest noises, coughing up the moans struggling to come out of his mouth and tear tracks staining his cheeks, begging to cum.

“please, please yn don’t do that,” you do it again. “i…i—pull off, i’m gonna cum i’m not gonna last!” he cries, cock pulsing inside you and you know he’s not lying. you can read spencer’s body in the dark or light like it’s your own and you can feel your orgasm steadfastly approaching too, the heat building gradually at the pit of your stomach.

you start going faster, dropping yourself down to his cock and bottoming out at every thrust, his cock finding the tip of your spot every time. “yn,” spencer repeats. “gonna cum, stop please i—hnnnggg—“

“cum in me, sweet boy,” you press a kiss on his jaw, locking your fingers on his curls to pull his head back by his hair, making him look at you in the eye. spencer arguably looks the prettiest when he cums, and you never miss the show.

“i…what?” debaunched and fucked-dumb, it takes a second for spencer to understand what you mean. “you sure?”

“shut the hell up spence,” you groan, bringing him closer, chests flat against each other. you keep going at your thrusts, slipping a hand to rub at your soaked, swollen clit as spencer’s moans get higher and higher until his entire body is trembling, his eyes squeezed shut. “fucking—cum in me, honey.”

you know the exact moment when he cums because you did too, his face scrunching up in what almost looks like pain as you start to feel something warm bleed inside you and it feels like fucking heaven. your walls spasm around his cock, milking him as you orgasm, squeezing your intertwined fingers for dear life.

when you’ve both gained back your breaths, spencer lightly stroking the skin of your stomach where he can press and feel himself beneath of and you pressing more hickies on his chest and neck, you speak. “was that as good as your dream?”

your voice comes out more distorted than you thought, raspy and your throat is slightly sore. spencer laughs quietly.

“a hundred times better,” he’s quick to respond, earnest. “no brainer.” when you pull off of him and collapses by his side, he leaks out of you, wetting and trailing down your inner thighs.

spencer slides a hand there and slowly starts to finger his cum back into you lazily and you open up your legs for him, loose and wet from the orgasm. “you’re so full of me,” he says, sounding pleased with himself. his fingers scissors you open wider, patiently fucking you with them. you hold his other hand as spencer kisses you. “mine. all mine.” he presses down on your clit and you shake, your second orgasm hitting you like a soft wave. he keeps the pressure there despite you trying to close your legs, shivering all over, nipples hard and stomach rising. “all mine.”

[lovingksuki]

✰ SECRET ADMIRER pt.2

— highschoolers bakugo x fem!reader

synopsis: an anonymous love letter appears in your locker on valentine's day. surprised, you and your best friend start an investigation to uncover who was that person observing you from afar. meanwhile, a flushed bakugo tries to ruin your plans on the undercover alongside his shitty-haired buddy

cw: sfw; mostly fluff; lil angst; very insecure bakugo; romantic comedy; puberty; silly jokes; little swearing.

an: guyyyyss it's hereeee. i hope you enjoy since i had many people asking for me to continue with this. i hope it is as good as the first part that btw you can read here

wc: 1,3k

the two went on a mission walking around the school and very non-suspiciously investigating whose hand that might be.

"i'm telling you! there's sato, iida and..." counted.

"are they even suspects!?" you mocked. "we have to be coherent about it. i don't even have a major relationship with them..."

"how could you possibly know what goes on inside other's head? i think you're being biased about it."

"what do you mean?"

"i know you want it to be one of the hottest in our class!" smiled diabolically.

"i have no idea what you're talking about." you sweated.

"maybe we should call that double colored guy and just ask a few questions..."

"no way... what are you insinuating?" you almost screamed truly shocked.

"that you have a slight cru-"

"I don't have a crush."

"admit it already."

"I'm not admitting anything. quit pestering."

"you're no fun at all. so... are we talking to Todoroki any soon?"

"no."

"psst, isn't that sero coming this way?" mina whispered looking ahead of the corridor.

the duo telepathically agreed to their next move and mina quickly went in action.

"hey, if isn't our fave tape boy! can I have a high-five?" the pink cheered lifting her hand.

the jet-black haired guy smiled playfully slapping hands with her. watching everything, you caught that glimpse of time needed to take conclusions on the survey.

"what are you two up to? feeling extra energetic today..." sero stated.

absorbed in your own thoughts, you simply couldn't answer any of the questions made, so pinky said in advance: "we're just too excited for the... the-"

"for what?"

"the new movie...! yeah! that one with the clowns. everyone is so hyped to watch it!" mina came up with some excuse.

"oh, so you like 'bloody nightmare' series too? man, me and denki are gathering people to go watch with us." he cheered.

you and mina eyed each other nervously while sero kept rambling about horror films. pinky swiftly poked your side sending the 'make him shut up' signal and you quickly catch the message saying:

"y-yeah! it would be super cool, but we need to... to... go to the 1b room! to dis- discuss the next match-"

"we're discussing the teams for the next training match!" mina rapidly came with an excuse ready to push you up the corridor. "see ya!"

"but guys... their class is towards the other side." sero warned confusedly.

"r-right! it's been months, but we still get lost... hehe!" mina sweated. she spotted a purple voluminous hair meters away. "shinso! wait up!"

and you runned away. sero chuckled observing the girls as another duo approached.

"'sup pal?" kirishima greeted. "it's a important matter so, could you share what are the girls planning? we have business with them."

"it's no use, we're gonna lose sight of them." said the blonde ready to walk away, but his buddy was fast to grab his shirt stopping his tracks.

"be reasonable, it's creepy to chase them around the school." eijiro whispered.

"what are you two up to?" sero crossed arms curious about the situation.

"nothing particularly important. girly borrowed something from bakugo." his heart he thought slightly laughing. "did them say anything about where they're heading?" asked.

"mina said they have something to do with class 1b, and i think they left with shinso." sero explained.

"not that eraserhead wannabe..." katsuki gritted teeth.

"well, no time to lose then! thanks dude." kirishima dragged his best friend away.

when the two males finally found the duo they were shocked to see you holding shinso's hand while walking

kirishima panicked turning to the blonde who watched that scene petrified. it was the second time eijiro saw that expression on his face, the first was when they watched all might last fight. that expression that indicates he started malfunctioning, his thoughts are running wild, and he is about to break.

when he finally inhaled, kirishima's heart skipped a beat thinking bakugo would explode at any moment. he prepared himself to restrain his friend from murdering somebody or start yelling like a psycho, but bakugo just hollowed his lungs right after.

watching deadpanned as you walked away giggling.

that behavior... it was truly concerning coming from him.

"are you totally sure?" mina whispered excited.

"it's a great probability, didn't you see that monstrosity of a hand!?" you whisper-exclaimed. "his grip almost crushed mine!"

"okay, but let's don't get ahead of ourselves, there's other boys to analyze." mina said carefully.

"right, but he's a suspect! and did you notice how he didn't hesitate or felt uneasy to hold my hand?"

"i'm not jumping to conclusions but he seemed too chill! it's almost unnatural coming from a person who wrote a love letter." mina spoke wisely.

"you're right." you pouted.

"what am i suspect about? love letter!?"

"aaaaaack! for fucks sake!" you and mina jolted. "y-you heard us?" you asked shyly.

"were you eavesdropping!?" mina confronted.

the boy leaned in the doorframe crossing his arms unphazed by the pink's attitude. "you're not even whispering... some of 1b even heard about how i have big ass hands and shit." he chuckled.

you looked over shinso's shoulder only to encounter monoma, kendo, shiozaki and komori confusedly observing at some distance. "h-hey guys..." and kendo smiled amused.

"he caught us, mina. what do we do?" you said fidgety.

"there's no other way now that he knows our secret. we must kill you." mina stated creepily serious to shinso, making him falter.

"ha. you almost got me there." he laughed mindlessly. after a couple of seconds staring at each other he came to realization. " you're joking,,, right?"

_

"why did you have to scare him like that? what if he go out telling others?"

"it's quite the opposite. he won't tell anyone if he believes it's confidential information. you can question my methods but not my results!" the pink girl explained confidently.

walking down the corridor in search for another male friend. now that the lunchtime was coming to an end the school was less fuzzy, and the groups concentrated in their usual places.

"uh... mina... you're not actually dangerous, are you?" you blurted.

she looked at you puzzled, as if that question was more complicated than it actually seemed. "why do you ask?"

"it's just because, you're my best friend, and if it were for me to have a psycho so close to me i would want to know..." you reasoned.

"don't be ridiculous!" she laughed. "but like you said, we're best friends, that does mean i would probably hide a body for you."

"wait. what the-"

_

"kirishima it's been thirty minutes." the blonde stated impatiently.

the boys were sitting casually at their class waiting for the others to come grab their keys to the closets. p.e was the next hour.

"just be patient dude, when she arrives, you casually get up and go talk to her. do you remember the three steps?" the red haired pointed.

"don't scream, don't curse and look at her in the eye." bakugo grumbled a little skeptical.

when they heard high pitched voices and footsteps approaching the blonde jolted in his seat.

"there they are." kirishima whispered. "good luck soldier"

katsuki got up with a sigh, heart beating fast, he didn't even notice his feet leading him directly to you and almost fainted when you looked at him with those doe eyes.

"h-hey."

"hey!" you greeted rummaging your backpack.

"i was... i recalled that time last week you shared your notes and... i"

"you came to say thanks? it's alrighty! just gimme a shoutout whenever you need!" you smiled

his ears reddened. "y-yeah. but i was trying to ask if ya wanna grab milkshakes sometimes, my treat for the notes." katsuki managed to spill

"oh! i didn't expect that" you giggled thinking that was a cute way to invite someone to hang out. "sure. i provide the notes, you provide the milkshakes." you extended your hand "deal?"

he smirked satisfied shaking you hand.

"deal."

[withleeknow]

how he would take care of you during shark week. ⤷ chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin

pairing: minho x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, lil fluff, lil angst, mentions of physical pain bc it's shark week and we're cramping lol ok, unedited bc i wrote this a couple months ago and i just wanted to post smth today and i'm currently half asleep word count: 0.4k

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi

minho comes home to a quiet house, four of his favorite beings nowhere to be found. he takes off his shoes, hangs up his jacket, put his keys where he can easily fetch them the next morning, and ventures into the living room. though, he soon stops in his tracks when his eyes find the couch situated in the middle of the room.

there’s a human-sized lump completely hidden under a fleece blanket on the cream-colored sofa, surrounded by soonie, doongie, and dori, all curled up and sleeping peacefully.

doesn’t take a genius to figure out what the lump is.

you, his love.

minho approaches the couch with careful footsteps and a pretty good guess as to why you’ve resorted to being a lump for the day. the tracker app on his phone did notify him that it should happen any day now.

when he sits down by your feet, soonie shoots up with a hiss before calming down immediately afterward, upon the realization that it's just his other owner.

“hey,” minho calls softly, placing a hand on your leg. “you sleeping?”

there’s a grunt, then the lump moves. he assumes it’s you shaking your head under there.

“does it hurt?” he asks.

the lump shifts again - a nod, he thinks - but this time, it’s accompanied by a softer sound, nearly a whimper.

he sighs, because he hates to see you in pain. hates that this helpless feeling has become a monthly visitor in your home. the first two days are often the worst for you.

“i’ll be right back,” he says, and again, he doesn’t get anything other than an incoherent noise, but it’s not like he was expecting a verbal response anyway.

minho returns a few minutes later with all of the essentials that you were in too much discomfort to get yourself. your trusty heating pad, a glass of warm water and pills, your favorite mango almond chocolate, a fluffy pillow so your neck doesn’t hurt from lying on the couch for too long.

peeling the blanket off so that he can prop the pillow under your head and give you the heating pad, he practically winces when he sees the pained expression on your face. you open your eyes to find him, and you look like you're close to crying. this month must be worse than usual.

“i’ll make you something to eat and then you can take your painkillers,” he tells you.

“thank you.” the words come out weak, but minho knows you mean them.

soft lips press themselves against your forehead, full of love and an unspoken i wish i could do more for you.

“i love you. give me twenty minutes, okay?”

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne @caitxx1 @palindrome969 @todorokiskitten @azuna-sz @meanergreener @nxzz-skz @jazziwritesthings @poutypoutybin @bookyeom @jisuperboard @wyzminho @amarecerasus @channection @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @judeduartewannabe @chanshyunjin @firelordtsuki @astronomicallyyy @alm334 @lashaemorow (italicized = can’t tag)

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 02.04.2024]

[fleursbending]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲'𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. | Sully Family

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 : "You taught me that love doesn't make us weak, it makes us stronger." Sully! Reader to Sully! Parents? Just a fluffy family fic please

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sully!family x sully!daughter

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : becoming one with the metkayina's has not been an easy task. as everyone continues to settle in their own ways, your family begins to grow more worried about your well-being. this isn't the sully they know. you're withdrawn, and quiet. what better way to fix that than to seek you out when you least expect it?

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : hi if you're confused so am i! there were issues when i first posted this so i am reposting it again. thank you for the love on the previous one though! // trust me this is fluffy 😭 just have to go through a lil angst to get to that part <33 this is purely a self-indulgent hurt/comfort fic! didn't fully proofread this btw! pls feel free to reblog and leave your thoughts in the comments.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : bullying, discrimination, angst but fluff at the end, descriptions of loneliness, hurt/comfort, you're gonna wish even more that u were a sully after reading this.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3.2k words

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 : hiiiiii my luvs you can read part 2: here !🙏🏼

The ocean was not your friend, you could only look at the endless channel of water in disdain. This was far too daunting for you, you liked the little rivers or ponds back at home. The sealife while beautiful, petrified you.

You missed the lush greens and the smell of the dew from the occasional rain back in the jungle. It was easy to forget your responsibilities, not that you had as many as your other siblings. Being the second youngest Sully had its perks. Not older than Lo'ak, and not younger than Tuk.

The "expeditions" you went on now made you look like a fool. You didn't know the terrain here, how to navigate fluidly through the water like Tsireya, Ao'nung, or Roxto.

Each passing day your siblings got better at managing to hold their breath, and riding their Ilu's. But you were still stuck in the past.

It felt reality kept kicking you in the face. Your stubborn self was annoyed as well. Holding a grudge against your family. It seemed like no one missed home. You understood why your parents made the decision they did, but it didn't make the act of doing so hurt any less.

At least you had these quiet moments before your thoughts ran rampant to practice your breathing.

You were suddenly interrupted from your twisting thoughts when a nudge was directed at your head.

It was Ao'nung and his crew.

"Leave me alone." You hissed at them, not wanting to deal with their bullshit today.

"Leave me alone." Ao'nung mocked you as he tugged on your tail.

You quickly stood up, looking to see if any of your family were close by. They weren't. You were supposed to be back in the Mauri but once again, you lost track of time.

"No one is here to help you, Y/n."

They grabbed your hand, poking insults at you and your family. You knew better than to talk back, especially if no one was here to help you out. It was 4 against 1. So instead you bit your lip and kept your mouth shut.

"Roxto, are you there?" His mother called from around the corner, startling the goonies.

"You're in luck, scram!" Ao'nung hissed at you.

Eyes widening, you stumbled as you rushed back to your Mauri. You didn't dare look back at your tormentors.

Once you were a few steps away, you slowed your pace. Catching your breath, before making your way inside.

The worried chatter of your family halted when you made your presence.

Neytiri stopped pacing, moving over to you and grabbing your face in her hands.

"Ewya help me before I lose it. Where have you been? You're 15 minutes late! I was about to send your brothers out to look for you."

Had it really been that long?

"I'm sorry." You looked down in shame. It's weird being on the brunt end of the stick. Even your parents have grown more accustomed to having to tell you off rather than Lo'ak. It was definitely odd.

"You didn't answer your mother's question, where have you been?" Jake didn't like being stern with you, but you being late to dinner had been happening more regularly.

You used to be a stickler for these dinners, being the one to push for them. How everyone had to be in attendance, and on time. It was family bonding time, moments to catch up on what everyone had done that day.

"Just around, I was with my Ilu - I'm sorry." You looked down to the Mauri's floor, unable to meet your father's eyes. It was hard lying to him.

Neteyams eyebrows arched in confusion, he had just been with his Ilu. You were nowhere in sight. He decided to let it slide this time, but he couldn't help but wonder where you snuck off too.

"Alright well, you really got to keep track of time yeah. You used to love these dinners!"

"Yes, and I still do!" You answered too quickly, not missing a beat.

If Jake wasn't suspicious before, he certainly was now. But like Neteyam, he decided to let it slide. Your brothers had told him and Neytiri how you've been struggling to catch up and learn everything in the lessons.

That was partially it, but if only he was aware of the bigger picture.

Jake nodded, looking to Neytiri. She also held a look of concern, but Jake made a silent signal that basically stated:

"We shouldn't push it, not now."

"Well, let's eat before the food gets even colder." Neytiri ushered her kids over, keeping a close eye on you.

Your family gathers around the food that was already set, and start eating. As all your siblings chatted excitedly about the activities they've done throughout the day. You didn't say a thing, not even piping in.

Neytiri and Jake once again met gazes, thinking the same thing.

Something's wrong with our daughter.

Soon dinner was over and it was time to rest, as your family rested together you couldn't help yourself as you removed Tuk's arm that clung to your shoulder.

Maneuvering your way outside, you jumped into the water. Why sleep when you can practice again?

Before Eclipse ended you made sure to squeeze the excess water out of your hair and made yourself comfortable alongside your family. Your body ached and could no longer fight off your sleep deprivation. But it was worth it, you could hold your breath a lot longer now under water.

From then on, it gradually got worse. Even your siblings would struggle to find you throughout the day. You'd take longer naps through the day, and Lo'ak knew you were sneaking out at night. Your essence seemed to further rid itself from you, and all that was left was a hollow shell of yourself.

They too, shared similar thoughts with their parents. No longer could they see you dwindle away. It didn't sit right with them, you're a Sully through and through. Sully's stick together.

So they did what they know best and was most accessible to them, track.

Instead this time they weren't on a hunt, or looking for what was to be a good meal for their clan. They were following the steps of their baby sister.

If you stepped out of your brain for a moment, you would have immediately clocked them. But once again, Y/n was shut in her own bubble.

"Bro, don't you find it weird that she hasn't realised we are here?" Lo'ak whispered as he looked at you behind the leaves keeping them hidden.

"Shut up, Lo'ak" Neteyam grumbled. He didn't want to agree even if his words held some truth.

"Hey, I have to agree with him. We shouldn't have been able to get this far. She's usually far too hyperaware of her surroundings." Kiri observed you, stunned and clueless.

They'd never been to this part of Awa'atlu before. They'd been so fixated on the ocean. They had yet to really explore the area that surrounded their new home. It oddly felt like they were waltzing through their past.

At last, you came upon your tree. You liked it because it had a specific branch that you could curve into. Blend in, and be one with your surroundings. Like you had used to do before in the jungle. This was now your next best option.

Your siblings looked in confusion at one another, not understanding how this could be the reason you've been periodically gone. Did you spend all your time here?

But then it came.

It was barely there, and you were struggling to catch your breath. The cries.

It strikes through the serene sounds of the waves crashing against the shore, and the nearby insects chirping.

Your sibling's ears flattened as they looked at each other in sheer worry. You were a spitfire, but you had always been calm and collected. The physical embodiment of the word warm. Happiness was always with you. So where did it all go wrong?

"Great mother, I fear that I am not good enough. I thought consistency was key, I've been trying to practice anytime I can. But I'm so tired. I've never felt this weak and useless?" You mumbled to yourself, looking up into the sky.

Groaning in frustration, you continued. "Maybe Ao'nung was right. I will never be one of the people. I will always be too alien. I will never be able to live up to my family."

Lo'ak enraged by the doubts you had voiced stepped out from their cover.

Your ears tuned into the noise, you finally tuned into your senses and became more alert. As you hopped off the branch, hastily wiping your tears.

"Brother." You choked out, lips trembling.

He took slow steps towards you, trying to soothe you as he brought you into a hug.

"Baby sister," he said so quietly, solemnly.

You couldn't remember the last time he hugged you, and neither he could he. It wore his heart down, seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

Soon the presence of more arms wrapped around you both, clinging onto you - securing you in their grasps. For the first time in a long time, tenderness surged through you.

"We've got you, Y/n. You're going to be alright. Let it all out now." Neteyam who was at your right side gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead, muttering to himself - "Oh my baby sister."

Kiri had never felt such pain from you, it came off in waves. And it almost debilitated her. In that moment, it was the most protective she had felt for you. It synced through all of them, a fire had awaken in the pit of their souls - so fierce that even Toruk Makto would flinch from it.

Slowly your breaths began to ease, and your tense shoulders slumped down. It was emotionally taxing having had all these emotions balled up inside you. Now it was unraveling, and it felt all too bittersweet.

Your siblings sensing this, mellowed out on their group hug they were giving you. Moving over, you all settled down against the tree you've been confiding in moments before.

Tuk grabbed your hand while Kiri tucked your intricate braids behind your ears. You mouthed a "thank you", leaning your head on her shoulder.

All it took was Neteyam to ask a very simple question, "What's been going on, baby sister?"

And once your mouth opened, you decided - why not just let them in on everything? So you did.

You told them about how ashamed and humiliated you had felt when you started lagging behind. How Ao'nung and his friends would tease you whenever they had the chance to do. (It was always away from prying eyes). Due to that, it only made the feelings of hatred you harbored for yourself - increase a tenth-fold.

A deliberately belligerent cycle was born. Self-doubt equated to "I will push myself to the brink of exhaustion". You'd seek out your family thinking they'd have noticed. But they were too caught up in their own commitments to realise your intentions.

All you wanted was for any of them to see the hard work you had been pouring in to adapting here. But how could they when you always lingered on the outskirts?

Late to dinner, late to the lessons, never seen. They couldn't appreciate what was in front of them because they hadn't witnessed it themselves. How utterly ironic.

"I see why you didn't, but I wish you had told us, Y/n. We could have helped you." Kiri insisted as she patted your head.

"I know." You grumbled, but you were grateful for how attentive they are to you.

"Ao'nung will pay." Lo'ak seethed, completely shifting the topic of conversation.

Neteyam rolled his eyes and interjected. "He will, but not in the way you are seeing it in your mind right now. We have to go to dad and mum about this."

Your irritated eyes widened, leaping up from where your back had laid against the tree. Y/n scowled at Neteyam, her tail flicking in anguish. No, not her parents.

"Absolutely not, 'Teyam. They mustn't know anything of this." You countered him, disbelief flooding your features. Your parents would only perceive you as a failure, and that was the last thing you could stomach right now.

Neteyam stood up by you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. He shook his head at you and gave you one of his brotherly grins.

"Baby sister, they are just as worried as we are." He looked behind you, and urged you to turn around.

Oh great mother, that could only mean one thing.

Ember crashed on ember, one filled with panic, and two filled with distraught. The tension was taut, but all your parents wanted to do was cradle you in their arms like they had in your first few months of life.

"Kids, back to the Mauri." Jake ordered them, pointing back to where it was.

"But dad-" Lo'ak butted in, worriedly looking at you.

"It's okay. Thank you, Lo'ak." You coaxed him to join your siblings who were also hesitating a little.

They disappeared amongst nature, and their footsteps grew fainter and fainter. Until all that was left was your heartbeat pounding in your ears. It felt oddly comforting being in their company even though doubt was eating you up from the inside.

It's been a while.

Neytiri was the first to approach you, her hands shook as she cradled your face. She took you in for the first time in weeks, and this time she was able to do it properly. Lately, she'd only been able to admire you whilst you sleep, or during meals.

In the morning you'd be gone in a blink of an eye. Throwing a haphazard, "I'll see you later", over your shoulder.

She missed you profoundly, so much that it physically pained her sometimes. Neytiri treasured you deeply, to put it bluntly - her heart felt like it'd been slashed by a Thanotor ever since you started pushing yourself away.

Jake followed in his mate's footsteps. His eye's tearing into your soul and trying to catch if there had been any distinct changes that have occurred to you.

"You don't look like yourself." Jake stumbled on his words.

Neytiri hissed, smacking your dad on the back of his head. A slight giggle escaped you that made both of their hearts sing. "Ma jake."

"Sorry." He mumbled, giving you a cheeky grin.

Y/n's doubts were already melting away before she herself could even acknowledge it. She grabbed both her parent's hands, leading them over to her tree not too far away from where they had been standing.

Mimicking how she and her siblings were just before. She settled against the tree again, bringing her parents down with her.

The trio admired their surroundings, taking in the wonders of Pandora. Especially Jake, and Neytiri. This is the closest they've felt to something akin to the jungle they'd once inhabited.

"I'm sure you heard everything, and it is true. I am sorry if I've disappointed you guys. I thought I could manage it all on my own."

Neytiri played with your hair and could only chastise your words. "You did not disappoint us, if anything - you infuriated us. We were just worried about you, our dear daughter."

Jake nodded in agreement. "We love you, and we want to be there for you. We will if you allow us. That's what we are here for. You don't need to fight these battles alone. Remember what I told you, baby girl?"

You rolled your eyes and pushed your dad away from you jokingly.

"It's us against the world." You mumbled.

Jake teasingly put a hand to his ear. "I'm sorry? What was that? I couldn't hear you."

Neytiri let out a soft laugh at you two's antics, watching with endearment sparkling in her eyes.

Clearing your throat, you reiterated your words. "It's us against the world."

Jake did extravagant hand motions, "More enthusiasm please!"

You were beaming, yelling out, "It's us against the world!"

"That's right baby, it is." Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulders bringing you to his side. Neytiri instinctively leaned against you both.

Y/n couldn't help but admire her parents. They were her foundation, her protectors. She couldn't believe that she used to be ashamed of being a Sully. It was her legacy, one she is only beginning to pave. She wasn't about to let Na'vi who didn't truly know her, dictate her life any longer.

"You taught me that love doesn't make us weak, it makes us stronger." You started, staring at your parents.

"I just - I couldn't catch up. There are so many other bigger things to worry about, and I thought.. I don't know. That I'd overcome this. I tried to love the ocean and the people. But I miss home. I miss everything that was green, now it's just all blue! That's actually why I like this place so much." You rambled, arms waving erratically. It felt gratifying to get it off your chest, especially to the two people you have wanted to tell from the get-go.

Your parents nodded, taking all your words in. But they were still conflicted. Their daughter had a competitive nature like no other, every time the world pushed her down - she always got back up. If you were lagging behind so much, you would have just pushed yourself more. Work extra hard, and seek help from your family.

But you haven't done any of that this time. All the means necessary she could have used as a stepping stone were left out of this equation. Instead, you had suffered in silence.

"You know, Y/n. It's not your fault for feeling like you don't belong. But you are one of us. You are Sully, you are the embodiment of strong heart. It does not matter what others say to you when no one else is there. It does not matter that you have 5 fingers." Neytiri protested, sighing.

She made sure you were looking at her, hearing her.

"What matters is how you control how it affects you. You are still growing, baby. This is a lesson you will remember for a lifetime and the next." Neytiri advised you, squeezing your hand.

"Your mother is right. At the end of the day, the power is in your hands. So use it, sweetheart. Follow your heart, and let us know next time if it gets a little too much. Alright?" Jake expanded on what Neytiri had told you.

You looked down at their hands holding yours. Yeah, Sully's really do stick together. And you wouldn't trade that for anything else in this world and all the other's orbiting you.

"Alright." Y/n restated, tugging both of her parents up with her. They stared at their child with confusion.

"Let's go back home." This time what you threw over your shoulder to them was a sweet smile, dimples and all.

Neytiri and Jake spoke with only their eyes as they let Y/n guide them back to their Mauri.

Our daughter is going to be just fine.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ˳೫˚

bonus:

Y/n's laughter could be heard inside the Mauri as she played in the water with Tuk just in front of their home.

Jake turned to Lo'ak and Neteyam who were doing some chores.

He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'll turn a blind eye if you decide to give Ao'nung a beating or two. Just for today." Jake mentioned, before going back to cleaning his gun.

Lo'ak had a devious grin, rubbing his knuckles together, "Yes Sir."

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

��� feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡

[grandlinedreams]

|| in the same reader setting as [this]

|| warnings: lil bit of angst/self-deprecation, reader has spine, some drama for the sake of it, had Bryce's starlight power in mind w reader

Some days, you wonder why you're here. Objectively, you know why ㅡ but beyond the obvious circumstances, you can't puzzle it out.

Especially as you watch your sisters seemingly click into place. Feyre, of course, has always had a spot ㅡ as High Lady, mate to Rhysand. Nesta has come into her own as well, finding her strength with the Valkyries and Cassian. And even Elain seems more and more comfortable here.

You still aren't sure where you fit in. It's an echo of how it'd once been back home, before all of it ㅡ a careful balance to not take too much, need too much ㅡ to do what you could to help. Unremarkable in all aspects, you suppose, for being Nesta's twin.

Feyre has often likened you to the two sides of the moon ㅡ cut from the same cloth, but so very different.

And the longer that you go in living here, the more it unsettles you ㅡ until it eventually comes to a breaking point of needing to do something.

And you begin watching training sessions. The Valkyries, Nesta, Cassian and Azriel ㅡ it doesn't matter who it is, you watch ㅡ a book in your lap as an excuse. You don't know why you don't want them knowing what you're truly up to, as there's no shame to be had in wanting to defend yourself.

All the same, you don't breathe a word of it to anyone. Your own sessions are self-made, mimicry clumsy and often times uncoordinated ㅡ but you're trying, and that's enough. Illyrian warrior you are not ㅡ but at least it's something.

ㅡ

"Thank-you for coming with me today," Elain tells you as you walk beside her, pace sedate as she glances at the shops to the right, your own attention on the Sidra to the left.

"Of course," you answer, and you can't help but glance back. Several paces away, Azriel trails behind, looking for all the world relaxed ㅡ though you know he misses nothing. Though Elain had asked you to accompany her, part of you wonders if Azriel had been hoping to be alone with her ㅡ you've caught the quiet looks that he's shot her every now and then today.

Sun warming your shoulders, you find your attention back on the Sidra, the gleam of light refracting off the surface. Velaris is beautiful, and you can understand why Rhys worked so hard to keep this place a secret from Amarantha.

"Elain," you begin, "do you thinkㅡ" You cut yourself off, abruptly aware that your sister is no longer at your side ㅡ nor is Azriel behind you. In your absent mindedness, you must have kept walking when Elain hadn't ㅡ and your stomach tightens at the realization that you have no idea where you are.

Stay calm, you think, pushing down the tendrils of instinctive alarm as you try to orient yourself, though none of the buildings are even vaguely familiar. Just how far had you gone?

"Lost?" The voice that speaks from behind you is wholly unfamiliar as you whirl, eyes locking with the deep green of a fae male who approaches you.

"No," you answer coolly, pushing down how the steady rove of his gaze over you makes your skin crawl. "I'm on my way to meet with my sister, actually."

"Oh." He takes another step to you. "Allow me to escort you?"

"No. That won't be necessary," you answer. There's an edge to your tone that you can hear, razor sharp ㅡ and you move to skirt around him. "If you'll excuse meㅡ"

Fingers snap around your wrist, squeezing with enough force to hurt as you're yanked to a halt. Something stirs in your chest. "Let go of me."

"Not until you apologize," comes the rough reply. "I'm trying to be kind, and you're veing rude."

You can feel your skin bruising under his grip, the ache of your wrist ㅡ and your other hand is curling into a fist and snapping up before you truly think about it.

The punch lands against his jaw and he grunts, letting up on your wrist enough for you to wrench it free with a venomous hiss that'd make Nesta proud as warmth bubbles in your veins, licking up your spine as it buzzes beneath your skin. "Get your hands off me."

The male's eyes blaze before he's lunging for you, hand fisting into your hair to yank you back ㅡ and the world splinters into bright, dazzling light. It blazes, burns brighter than faelight with all the warmth of a summer day as you hear the male yelp ㅡ and then you're on your knees, hands aching as you press your palms to the rough stone and struggle to even your breathing.

The sharp cry of your name and the rapid approach of footsteps is the only warning you get before arms are around you, pulling you close ㅡ Elain.

"Are you okay? One minute you were beside me and then you weren't, we were looking everywhere for you and ㅡ oh, look at your handsㅡ" Her fussing is going in one ear and out the other as she coaxes you to your feet. "Come on, let's get you to Madja, okay?"

You don't remember much of the trek back, lost in a mute daze that has Elain shooting Azriel a worried look and asking for him to escort you to Madja so she can go tell Feyre what happened.

You're quiet even as the healer looks over your hands, the raw skin of your knuckles and knees where you hit the ground ㅡ and still not a word leaves your lips until Feyre is calling your name, hands on your shoulders.

"Elain told me what happened, but she said there was a burst of light right before they found youㅡ"

"Me," you mumble, cutting her off. "That was me. I think." Feyre stares at you, but you're studying your hands. "It...it came from me."

"Oh," Feyre breathes, then glances at Rhysand, who's watching you.

"It's possible she's yielded her powers," he says. "We'll have to see what the extent of it is, and go from there."

It feels a little weird, being discussed as though you aren't there ㅡ and you're more than grateful when the only one left is Azriel, who watches you as you keep studying your hands.

"...the male who grabbed me," you mumble. "I punched him."

"Good." Azriel's shadows had been the ones to report where you were and what was happening ㅡ and the fury he'd felt had been interrupted by that burst of light. "Don't feel bad for defending yourself."

"That's the thing," you answer. "I don't." Your brow furrows. "I'm not...like Nesta or Feyre, or Elain." You pause. "I don't know what I am."

He knows you mean more than just today, that this has been haunting you for a while ㅡ ever since the events that'd landed you here. He can sympathize, truly ㅡ and then he's approaching to ease your hands apart from where you'd been picking at the gauze over your knuckles.

"You don't need to be anything like them," he tells you, then tenses as you study his hands ㅡ broader than yours and scarred ㅡ and then you slot your fingers between his and squeeze gently.

"I have a question," you murmur, letting your other hand rise to trace a fingertip over his knuckles, seemingly unaware of what the simple touch is doing to him. "I...I've been watching all of you train, but I'd like to actually be taught properly."

Azriel hums. "Cassianㅡ"

"No," you counter, fingers tightening around his. "I want you."

Azriel stills for several long moments where he swears thst his heart stutters, stops, then resumes before he answers. "Okay."

[hwaslayer]

love you in slow motion (psh) | two.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist ♡

—summary: seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, the warmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you’re more than just his bestfriend—you’re love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.

—pairing: park seonghwa x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriends to lovers | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 7.3k

—chapter warning: cussing/mature language, alcohol consumption and intoxication, some drunk crying lol, yacking, lil inkling of jealousy, overthinking and burying feelings, more seonghwa x oc dynamic

—a/n: hi hi! hope you guys enjoy this update! the next two updates will be quite lengthy lol stay tuned! if you need a lil something fun, i posted after hours last weekend!

"You know, Y/N. One day, you should sit down and eat with me. I'll pay for everything. It'll be a nice little date." The old man who is a regular at the restaurant smiles up at you while you switch his empty cup with a newly refilled cup of beer. 

"Sure, but you know, my boss is also my cousin. I could always ask her for free food if I wanted it. Wouldn't a date be nicer somewhere else?" You laugh and nod, giving him a wink before walking off. "Mr. Ong asked me out on another date."

"Ou, to our restaurant? How sweet of him. Maybe one day you should actually sit down and eat with him."

"I'm not looking for a sugar daddy, Soyeon."

"He probably just needs company, you weirdo." She laughs. "Aye, might be nice, though. You never know until you try." You roll your eyes. "Unless.."

"Unless, what?"

"Someone else has your heart." Soyeon nudges you behind the counter as you two work on packing some to-go orders.

"Who is someone else?" 

"You know, only your bestfriend of 16 years who does everything and anything for you." Soyeon giggles. But, before she can even indulge in her own little fantasy she's trying to project on you, Seonghwa walks through the front door— black, wavy hair messily framing his head. "Speak of the devil." You glare at her and roll her eyes while she continues to giggle loudly next to you.

"I can't fucking believe you."

"What?!" You look up at Seonghwa and give him a nod. "Hwa! Our favorite person ever."

"Hey." He smiles at Soyeon, giving Junseo a wave as he helps Yoongi in the kitchen.

"What're you doing here?"

"Thought I'd pick you up for Sannie's thing." He looks at you.

"Aw, Hwa. I told you I was okay taking bus."

"I was already in the area." He sits at the bar, watching as you continue to pack the remaining orders. 

"Want anything?" Soyeon asks, making Hwa shake his head in response.

"I'm good, thanks."

"You should get going so you can meet up with everyone on time." Soyeon nudges you.

"Let me give Mr. Ong his check and direct him your way before I go." You grab a new batch of dried squid with the check, pacing over to Mr. Ong with a huge smile on your face. "My dear, I have some bad news. I'm off for the night. Here's a refill of your dried squid and the check. Just pay with Soyeon at the front, okay?" He frowns and playfully protests.

"You can't go that early! What am I supposed to do when my favorite is gone?!" 

"Oh, I know. It's a tragedy. I'm so sorry, Mr. Ong. I'll see you next time!" You give him a sweet smile before walking to the back and hanging up your apron. "Soyeon will take great care of you!"

"I sure will, Mr. Ong. What else do you need?" He continues to playfully protest and partake in cute banter with Soyeon, even as you grab your things and walk out the door with Seonghwa.

"Really got the hots for you. Gonna let him take you out on a date?" Seonghwa adds as he leads the way to his parked car up the street.

"Well, just so you know, he actually did ask me on a date today. For the umpteenth time. He offered to pay for my dinner at the restaurant." You giggle as you step into the passenger's seat of Hwa's car. You always commend Hwa for being so clean and tidy, his car always in pristine condition like a new car would be. You especially love the air freshener that sits on his rear view mirror, Seonghwa always making sure to hang a new one to keep the fragrance alive.

"How sweet of him." He chuckles. "How was work otherwise?"

"Good. Busy." You let out a breath.

"Not too tired to go?"

"Never! I need to see Sannie, are you kidding?"

"I'm just giving you some options." He says, pulling away from the curb to begin the trek over to the bar.

"Thanks, Hwa. I'm perfectly fine and excited." You clap your hands in excitement.

"I think they're all already there."

"They're just waiting for us?"

"Mhm."

"Can't wait. I can't believe he went MIA when he was in Barcelona."

"I mean, we heard from him every now and then, but yeah." Seonghwa licks his lips, eyes focused on the road in front of him. "Guess he really wanted to focus on his program. Plus, I'm sure he was just basking in the new environment. Being in a new country and taking it all in."

"Good for him. I strive to be that way."

"Long way to go." You playfully smack him on the arm, making him give off a small yelp.

"I'm glad he did that, though. You don't normally find yourself in a situation like that all the time." Seonghwa nods.

"Yeah. I agree." You rest your head back against the headrest, giving yourself a moment to rest before the chaos begins. Before you could even get a few seconds of peace, Seonghwa is turning at a corner, instantly pulling into a free spot on the street.

"Mind if we walk a bit? I don't think we'll find anything closer to the bar."

"Sure. If I get wasted, it's on you to carry me." You unbuckle your seatbelt and hop out of the car while Seonghwa follows suit.

"Hell no."

"So what, are you just gonna leave me?"

"Yeah." He says nonchalantly, walking ahead of you.

"You're so mean to me." You pout, making Seonghwa look down at you once you finally catch up to his side.

"Am I? Even though I lose sleep to save you from your shitty ex-boyfriend?"

"Hey, I was just kidding." He laughs. "It's not funny. Are you sick of me?"

"Y/N, please."

"Seonghwa, are you sick of me? Cause if you are, then I am too!" You tug on his arm and he shakes his head. 

"We wouldn't be in each other's lives for this long if I was." He scoffs. "Besides, what the hell have I done to make you sick of me?"

"I thought so. Don't get me started." You playfully attempt to smack him on the arm. At this point, the two of you have finally reached the entrance to the bar, Wooyoung being the first to spot you walking over.

"Baby girl and her grumpy bodyguard are here!" He yells, waving you two over. You call out Wooyoung and Hongjoong's name while waving happily, but the individual next to them causes you to pause and almost short-circuit.

Because what do you mean that's Choi San?

You gasp when you finally process that it's San standing next to Wooyoung, his cheeks a rose-tinted color as he fiddles with his hands. He's nervous seeing you for the first time in years, hoping you'd still be the same around him like before.

"Sannie!" You scream, running into San's arms and allowing him to swing you around. When he puts you down, he gets a good look at your face and smiles, sending those butterflies loose in your stomach.

He definitely changed over the years.

It's been about three years since you all graduated, and since you last saw San. Once graduation was over, he felt the need to travel and explore, eventually stumbling into an Art and Architecture program in Barcelona. That's where he spent a majority of his years abroad before coming back home.

To you, your friends, his family.

This.

The familiar.

But the last time you saw San, he was a super sweet, awkward guy who experimented with hair colors and lacked consistency with the gym [even though he said he wanted to be better about a million times]. In reality though, he didn't think too much about his physical appearance and wasn't big on dressing up, was glued to his games and his shiba pillow pet named Shiber— even after graduation.

Now, he stands in front of you— a nice fitting black tee tucked into some dress pants and boots, brow slits, black hair slicked back with strands falling to his face, buff as shit in all the right places. You still smell his cologne lingering on you, on your hair, even as your eyes continue to glaze over his body.

"Wow, you look.. different." You accidentally let out while letting your eyes linger. He chuckles, showing off his deep dimples.

"What is that supposed to mean? I haven't seen you in about three years and that's the first thing you say?" He teases, pulling you into another tight hug, your cheek pressed against his chest while Seonghwa furrows his brows. Because what the fuck is he watching right now? It's so easy to tell when you're feeling some type of way, even if you won't admit it.

"Sorry, I meant that in a good way." You look up at him and playfully tap his chest. "I'm happy you're back home. It's been too long."

"I am, too." Seonghwa clears his throat, breaking the weird, flirty silence between the two of you.

"Can we go inside?" Seonghwa chimes in, looking at anyone for some sort of agreement.

"Okaaaaay!" Wooyoung says, clapping his hands awkwardly. "You didn't have to make it so fucking weird, Mr. Grumpygills." He and Hongjoong snort while they begin to walk into the bar, Hwa's hand coming up to smack Wooyoung on the back of his neck. "Ouch, what the fuck! Joongie laughed too." He whines.

"Shut up."

"I can't wait to hear your stories about Barcelona!" You link your arm with San's as you two trail behind and begin to talk about how he's been lately. Wooyoung, Hongjoong and Seonghwa slide in first before you and San follow suit into the booth.

"Somebody order before he loses his shit watching this." Hongjoong mumbles, eyeing the happy hour menu.

"Tequila? Soju?" Wooyoung yells, already calling the server over. "Both? Fuck it. Seonghwa looks like he needs it anyway."

"I will personally toss your ass out of this bar myself." Seonghwa says under his breath, glaring at Wooyoung before returning his attention to the menu. After a few moments of peace and silence, Hongjoong takes initiative to order for the booth— making sure to include everyone's wants and wishes before thanking the server with a smile and a curt nod.

The soju bottles come out first, and you immediately crack them open to get the party started. You line up all of the shot glasses and start pouring [heavily], passing it onto the boys for them to join you.

"Goodness." Hongjoong says, carefully lifting his shot glass filled to the brim. "Y/N, I love you, but we have all night, you know?"

"Exactly, Joongie! More time to get in more shots!"

"Yeah, that's the spirit babygirl! Don't worry about the grandpas!" Wooyoung yells along, tapping his glass against yours. "Sannie's back!" San shyly laughs, saying a few words along the lines of 'thank you' and 'i missed you guys a lot.' Everyone taps their glasses once more before downing their shots, with you wasting no time to pour the next round.

But the next round becomes the third, the fifth, maybe seventh, tenth? You aren't really sure when it's mainly you, San and Wooyoung taking the shots and requesting bottle after bottle. At some point, the empty bottles are gathered in the middle of the table and Seonghwa is having to play tetris to make the food fit.

"I need to pee. I'll be back."

"Are you good to go by yourself?" Wooyoung questions. "I can stand outside in the hallway until you're done."

"I'm good, I promise!" You slip out of the booth once San has slipped out of the way at the end, taking a moment to get your balance together since the world seems to be spinning a lot more than usual right now.

"Wow, I think I'm drunk." Wooyoung laughs as he plops back down onto the seat.

"Saaaame." San burps a bit before picking at the calamari sitting in front of him. "Y/N's fun. I forgot how fun she is."

"She is." Wooyoung smiles. "That's babygirl."

"Babygirl? Is this a new nickname we're calling her?"

"It's a nickname I'm calling her and Hwa hates it." Wooyoung giggles when he eyes Seonghwa next to him.

"It's just weird."

"Not! You're just mad you can't come up with a cuter nickname for your bestfriend."

"I don't need to." Seonghwa continues to eat, brushing off Wooyoung's drunk teasing.

"Did you guys come from work today?" Hongjoong shifts the topic as he munches on some of the food, hearing the slight annoyance in Seonghwa's tone.

"Yeah. Picked up Y/N on the way over."

"When are Soyeon and Junseo leaving for Japan?"

"In a few days." Wooyoung gasps.

"Does that mean we'll get to see Chacha?!"

"That's right, I never met Charli." San says, cheeks flushed completely to red now that he's 100% drunk.

"She's cute." Seonghwa smiles a bit. "But yeah, Soyeon asked Y/N to take charge in watching Chacha since Yaya's knees have been bothering her." Hongjoong nods.

"She's really cute, dude. She turned three not too long ago." Wooyoung shows San a picture. 

"She's so cute." San laughs at the pictures of Charli.

"I'm back!" You announce, the boys at the end slipping out of the booth to let you get back inside. "What're you guys looking at?"

"Chacha." You smile.

"Aw yeah, Charli! You haven't met her. She'd love you." You look at San.

"Can't wait. She's super cute."

"She's stuck to this one the most, though." You point at Seonghwa. "All she does is cry for Hwa." You pour yourself another shot.

"He's no fun, though." Wooyoung pokes fun and pouts at Seonghwa.

"It's cause mentally, you're the same age as Charli. Of course you relate the most."

"Aye." Wooyoung flips him off while laughing. "Fuck you."

"Am I wrong?" Seonghwa smirks.

"Is she just gonna stay with Yaya when she doesn't have preschool? She only goes three days, right?" Hongjoong asks.

"Yeah, but I'm not sure." You reach across to grab some food, getting in Seonghwa's way. "I know Yaya won't mind, but I might just bring her along to the restaurant. She can color or something. Our regulars don't mind keeping her company, too."

"Cute." 

"But, she'll be sleeping with me and everything." You say with a slightly full mouth. You feel Seonghwa accidentally nudge you while grabbing a chicken wing, making your drunk ass glare back at him just as you roughly nudge him. He mumbles a quick 'stop' as he nudges you again, making you respond with an even more aggressive nudge that has him moving in his seat. The childish back and forth has Hongjoong confused, eyes peering over the edge of his phone while he watches the interaction mid-text. "You stop." You groan.

"Seriously?" Hongjoong asks, sometimes unsure how you two have dealt with each other for this long.

"He elbowed me first." You drunkly respond, that last shot of soju finally settling in.

"It was an accident. I was trying to grab food." Seonghwa gives you a look. It's gonna be a long night. "Eat more. Drunk ass." Seonghwa drops a wing onto your plate before continuing to pick at his food.

"No." You pout and he furrows his brows.

"Fine, suit yourself. You're gonna be mad you didn't." He watches as you reach over to grab the soju bottle and pour Wooyoung and San another shot.

"Don't be a killjoy, Hwa. Sannie is back, doesn't that mean anything to you?" You whine, your doe-eyes peering up at him as he eats. He doesn't respond, nor does he keep eye contact with you for long because he can't stand it when you look at him like that. 

"I'm driving, remember?" He raises a brow. 

"Right." You giggle. "I'll take another on your behalf then." You shrug and take one last shot of soju right after San and Wooyoung take their shots.

"She's gonna yack tonight." Hongjoong says while puckering his lips, keeping his eyes glued to his phone.

"Yeah, probably." Seonghwa nonchalantly munches on a mozzarella stick.

"Am! Not!" You direct your response to Hongjoong, but before you can go on and defend yourself even more, a loud scream erupts when the DJ starts to play one of your favorite songs.

"Who wants to dance?!" Wooyoung yells loudly as he stands at the booth, San already ready to make his way to the dance floor. "Babygirl sure does!" San grabs your hand and leads the way, with Wooyoung pushing Hongjoong out of the booth to follow along. "You two coming?" He asks just as Hongjoong and Seonghwa shake their head, leaving him to nod and find you and San on the floor.

"Looks like those two are gonna get extra close again now that he's back for good." Hongjoong takes a turn teasing Seonghwa, knowing the flirty interaction from earlier in the night is still irking the living daylight out of him.

"Mm, maybe." Seonghwa continues to chomp on his food while avoiding eye contact.

"Wow, they're dancing awfully close like that together." Hongjoong lies, watching as Seonghwa's eyes suddenly dart to the dance floor ahead. He tries not to make it obvious but my god, is he hoping that you and San aren't dancing up on each other and are leaving room for the Holy Spirit instead. "See, you're full of shit."

"Dude, fuck off. Why is everyone on my ass about this today?"

"Maybe cause you should do something about it."

"If she wants to date San, then she should go for it. Can't tell her who she can or can't date."

"You're right, by all means. But I'm telling you to be fucking real with yourself." Seonghwa rolls his eyes and shakes his head before looking back out to the dance floor. He's a little irritated that he's had to hear this not once, but twice in one day— though, he knows his boys are only looking out for him and telling him the truth. For some reason, he just can't think about it right now. He refuses to, mainly out of fear. He doesn't want this to consume him, to change things without him even realizing.

He wants you, but he'll have you the way the universe will allow him to have you.

After you, Wooyoung and San are done dancing [a very long hour or so afterwards], the group decides to call it a night shortly after. You're still drunk as hell, and Seonghwa doesn't even know how he's gonna get you home without creating chaos at this time of night. He just hopes he can at least get you to bed in one piece.

At least you're not running off to Mingi.

"I had so much fun!" You giggle. "Choi San." You tap his chest before hugging him. "I'm so glad you're back."

"I am, too."

"We have to hang out more now that you're back. T-to make up for lost—" You hiccup. "—time."

"That sounds good with me." You smile at him before hugging Wooyoung and Hongjoong.

"I mean it!"

"I know, I do too!" He laughs.

"Hwa get home safely, please." Joong says before grabbing at Wooyoung's shirt just as he's about to run to the water fountain nearby. "No, you're not going to the fountain."

"I just wanna make a wish and toss a coin in there! I'm not gonna dive in!" Wooyoung whines while San laughs loudly. "Why are you being like that!" He continues on.

"You too!" Seonghwa calls out, picking up his pace when he realizes you've already started walking off. "Shit." He mumbles to himself.

"Wooooooo!" You skip happily as you and Seonghwa walk down the street to his car. You stumble on your feet a bit that he has to grab your wrist and pull you back towards him before you end up on the busy street where cars are constantly driving up and down.

"Y/N, be careful." He says, almost whining that you can't just stay still next to him.

"Hwa, I'm fine."

"Are you?"

"Y-yes!" You giggle and pose as if he's taking a picture, only to lose your balance and stumble on your feet again. You laugh though, and it makes Seonghwa chuckle a bit when he grabs your arm and holds you close.

"Okay, yeah. You're right! Perfectly fine." He lies just so you're satisfied.

"Aw, see. I told you so." You scrunch your nose at him and continue to let him guide you to the car. "Hwa." You tug on his arm.

"Mhm?"

"Sannie is so cute." You pout. "He is so, so cute. I m-mean." You hiccup. "He's always been cute but he's so attractive now. Like prince charming." You say ever so smitten, and it makes Seonghwa wanna silently scream and punch the air right now. "Isn't he?!"

"Sure."

"Do you think he'd like me? We're just friends and he probably just—" You hiccup again. "Just sees me as a friend."

"I think he would."

"You're not just saying that because you're my bestfriend, right? You can tell me the truth. You hate Mingi and you tell me all the time."

"I always tell you the truth." He chuckles. "And I do hate Mingi. That has never changed. He's an asshole and doesn't treat you right."

"Would San treat me right? Would you like him? We've all been friends so you know him." Seonghwa sighs.

"He would. He's a really good guy."

"I knooooow." You pout. "But he wouldn't like me."

"He would."

"Would he actually?"

"Why not? You're beautiful inside and out, smart, funny. Fun to be around. You're a headache at times, but everything about you is worth it." He almost mumbles the last part hoping you wouldn't catch it. You do, but it doesn't bother Seonghwa as much knowing you won't remember shit tomorrow.

"Aw, pichu." You stop and look at him while he unlocks his car and swings the passenger door open for you. "You really mean that?" Your bottom lip looks like it's trembling and Seonghwa can't help but furrow his brows in confusion at you.

"Are you gonna cry?"

"Yeah." Your bottom lip pokes out even more and you actually do start crying. 

"That wasn't meant to make you cry, Y/N. I'm just answering your question." He laughs as he wipes your tears, but you continue to cry, even as you drunkly plop onto the passenger's seat.

"It was so sweet, you're always so good to me. Sometimes." You sniff. "Well all the time. I feel like I don't deserve you."

"Don't say that."

"It's true."

"It's not, or else I wouldn't be here, right?" He looks at you just as he finishes buckling your seatbelt.

"Did you know?" You giggle with glazed, hooded eyes. "I wanted to marry you at some point. I couldn't see anyone else in my life the same way that I saw you and thought I'd end up marrying you." You snort and laugh loudly. "Kinda crazy isn't it? We would never date though so how could that even happen?" Seonghwa can't help but continue to look at you, even though at this point you've shut your eyes and started to lean back against the seat.

"Hm." Seonghwa hums. "I wouldn't say never."

"You're my bestfriend. We can't break up, remember? Ever. If we date, then ultimately we could get tired of each other and break up. A-and hate each other. It'll kill me." You mumble. "Even though I love you, I really, really love you, we promised not to break up or go there."

"Yeah." Seonghwa's heart shatters, the pieces falling to the pits of his stomach.

"Listen, even though I have this crush on Sannie, or I think I do, I don't know—" You giggle again as you tap his arm. "I want you to know that I'll always love you more than anyone or anything. Okay? You're always first!" Your eyes pop open to look at him. "My heart belongs to you and only you, Park Seonghwa!" You laugh and point at him cutely, shutting your eyes again to finally try and sleep this off. 

"I love you, too." Seonghwa mutters as he drives off, but you're already sound asleep in the seat— head leaning near the window. He's not sure what to feel right now, and he'll probably never bring this up for your sake. He'll never bring it up though the thought will consume him.

But, did you really mean it? All of it?

He's hoping yes, but what is that gonna do for him? You're drunk. You won't remember this. He won't bring it up. Does this mean it's actually time for him to be honest before it's too late? Before San can sweep you off your feet for good and Seonghwa never gets the chance to tell you how much he truly loves you and adores you?

Before he just has to sit back and bury his feelings for good? All because he decided he couldn't tell you?

He'd hate to say you were the one that got away, especially when a whole new door just opened in front of his eyes. It's just a matter of him taking those steps.

Fuck.

Why do things have to be so complicated?

When he gets to your house, Yaya is sound asleep and all the lights are off. Seonghwa makes sure to open the side door and the door to your suite before coming back to his car to quietly unbuckle your seatbelt and carry you to your bed. You whimper and make a small noise when he lifts you, and he gently shushes you back to sleep— reassuring you that he was putting you to bed and that he'd be around if you needed him.

He lays you down, taking off your shoes and setting them aside before grabbing some clean clothes for you to change into later. He knows you'll probably get up in the middle of the night, especially with how drunk you were. He sets a glass of water near your bed side and places the trash can next to you just in case, before shutting all the curtains and changing into comfier clothes himself [the perks of you wearing his clothes home]. He lays down on your couch and throws the extra blanket over his body, taking a moment to scroll through his phone and text the boys before attempting to get some sleep.

You do end up yacking that night, and it's not as slick as you had liked.

You abruptly woke up, suddenly feeling warm and like you needed some sort of release, feet quickly padding to the bathroom that you didn't notice Seonghwa asleep on your couch. You shut the door to the bathroom and instantly vomit into the bowl— all the alcohol and things you've eaten coming right back up. Seonghwa is already awake, though. He heard you shuffling over to the bathroom and knows exactly what's happening behind the door. He lets out a breath while walking to the bathroom, finding you head first into the toilet. He gently gathers your hair and pulls it back, rubbing your back as you let out another round into the bowl before flushing it away.

"Fuck." You say. "Really do regret not eating more." You spit into the bowl before flushing it once more and stand to wash up.

"Figured." Seonghwa smirks with a little chuckle. "You alright?" You nod as you begin to brush your teeth and get loads of mouthwash ready.

"I think I'll be okay now. I feel a bit better even though I'm kinda dizzy still." You look at him through your bathroom mirror. "Were you here the entire time?" Seonghwa yawns and nods as he leans against the door frame.

"Took your little drunk ass home and stayed here just in case."

"How many hours ago did we get home?"

"Probably like 2 or 3."

"How drunk was I?"

"Drunk enough."

"I didn't say stupid shit, did I?" You spit out the mouth wash and start to make your way outside to change into comfier clothes, still feeling disoriented.

"No, but you did manage to be all up on San." You gasp and cover your mouth, Seonghwa laughing as he plops back down onto your couch.

"The fuck, Seonghwa! Don't lie!" You smack him on the shoulder.

"I'm kidding. Kinda. You were dancing with him and Wooyoung, and you wouldn't stop talking about how cute he was." You start changing in the bathroom with the door open, listening to him go on about that.

"Did he hear?"

"No, you were still being a flirt though."

"Fucking christ." You mumble, hand to your forehead at the dull headache now present post-yack session. "No, I'm not thinking about this now." You lay back down and toss the sheets over your body. "Are you sure you're okay to sleep there?"

"Mhm. Not like I haven't before."

"We've also shared a bed without issues." Seonghwa pauses, swallowing the lump in his throat. Can he really share a bed with you the same way he used to? Especially after you just blurted out that your heart belonged to him? Whether it was the truth, or for shits and giggles— he can't just share a bed with you and keep his distance.

You fucking blurted out the L word.

You said you loved him; really, really loved him.

"It's okay. You should rest comfortably. You need it more than I do." You hum as you sink into your sheets and let the warmth envelope you. Seonghwa lets out a quiet sigh before returning his attention to his phone, waiting for the drowsiness to hit him again. His groupchat with the boys still seems to be active, so he scrolls through to catch up on the texts:

[hongjoong]: just got home after dropping these punks off

[hongjoong]: can't believe woo and san convinced me to go to another bar

[hongjoong]: hwa did you and y/n make it home okay?

[wooyoung]: did y/n yack her brains out? cause babygirl was drunk drunk

[san]: you guys, speaking of her

[san]: y/n is so fucking cute, i missed her a lot

[san]: she's really not seeing anyone right? because she's so pretty

[san]: maybe she'll finally give me a chance lol

[hongjoong]: you're drunk. sleep it off? lol

[san]: no i really mean it ☹️ she rarely paid attention to me before..

[hongjoong]: what are you talking about, she was always with us lol you guys always hung out??

[hongjoong]: please go to sleep

[wooyoung]: u better ask bodyguard seonghwa first, he might drop kick that ass

[san]: shit hwa i'm sorry, am i overstepping here??

Seonghwa is annoyed and he's irritated, but he won't say it. And he won't take it out on San because it's not his fault. It's not anyone's fault but Seonghwa's own. He chooses to keep this to himself and not do anything about it, so can he really mope around and sulk? You weren't his to claim. It was free game, and if it's gonna be anyone, he would want it to be San. Seonghwa would ultimately support you and San if it ever went down that route. That way, you wouldn't keep hurting yourself over Song Mingi, too.

Despite adoring you and loving you to bits, all he wants is for you to be genuinely happy. That's the most important thing here.

[seonghwa]: don't listen to wooyoung's dumbass, you don't needa tell me or ask me anything. y/n is her own person

[seonghwa]: and yeah joong we're fine

[seonghwa]: she did throw up but shes asleep now

[seonghwa]: i'm gonna take my exit, tired as hell

He sets his phone aside, turning inwards on the couch to try and catch some shut-eye. Though, he feels like at this point, he's probably not gonna have the best rest. He manages to fall asleep for the next couple of hours, tossing and turning every now and then until he finally decides to just call it quits and start his day. He washes up and tries to make himself look a little more presentable after the long night of tossing and turning. He folds the blankets and sets them aside, happy to see that you're still sound asleep deep under your covers. He grabs his keys and phone, deciding to make a run for some pho to bring back and share with you.

"Seonghwa." Yaya says as she waters her flowers in the garden. "You're here." She smiles.

"Mhm." He gestures towards your suite. "Brought her home after we all went out last night for San."

"Oh, that handsome boy. I'm so happy to hear he's back home." She stands and places her hand on her hip. "Was she okay?"

"Yeah, just drank quite a bit. She's okay though. Promise." Seonghwa smiles sweetly. "I'm gonna grab us some food before she wakes up."

"You're the sweetest boy I know." She cups his cheek.

"Do you need anything while I'm out, Yaya?" He asks as he's about to head out of the backyard's side door.

"No, Soyeon, Junseo and Charli are coming over soon. You're gonna be here, right? Charli would be so sad if she missed you."

"Yeah, I'll be here." He chuckles. "Be back." 

With that, Seonghwa heads off to the small Vietnamese restaurant that you, your family and his family have come to love. It's a bit of a drive from your place, but he doesn't mind. The restaurant is owned by a lovely middle-aged couple who has seen you and Seonghwa grow since your high school years. When Seonghwa calls, they know his voice— immediately starting on his order before he could say anything and asking for him to swing by as soon as possible so they can see him.

So, that's what he does.

He sees them as soon as possible, walking into the store with a huge smile on his face while Mr. and Mrs. Dao happily wave him over with a huge bag of food nearby on the counter. He stands near the counter to engage in small talk for a bit, giving them cash with extra tip for all the good food they've packed for him [and you].

"Where is our girl?" Mrs. Dao asks, tying the knot securely on the bag.

"Asleep and hungover." She laughs, handing the bag over. "Gotta make sure she gets some food in her system."

"That's sweet of you." She smiles at him. 

"How's your family? How's Y/N and hers?" Mr. Dao asks him, wiping his hand on his apron.

"They're all good. I'll tell them you guys said hello." They nod.

"I packed some spring rolls and extra peanut sauce in there. I know those are her favorite." Mrs. Dao whispers.

"Thank you." Seonghwa winks before waving one last time and walking out of the door. 

As promised, when he arrives, Soyeon, Junseo and Charli are over. Seonghwa steps out of his car with the bag of food, a screaming Charli running towards him from down the hallway. She barrels through her own mom and dad to get to him quickly, with Seonghwa having to set the bag on the island counter down to appropriately welcome her into his arms and swing her around.

"Uncle Hwa! Uncle Hwa!" She screams repeatedly.

"Charli, please. You don't have to scream." Soyeon chuckles a bit.

"Chacha." Seonghwa taps the tip of her nose before she giggles and snuggles her head into the crook of his neck. "I missed you. Where have you been?" He asks teasingly.

"Preschool! With friends!"

"Aw, you've been making friends? That's good." 

"Hwa, don't let that child lie to you." Soyeon adds. "She's so mean and sassy. There was this kid who wanted to sit next to her and she kicked her foot out so he wouldn't." Junseo laughs.

"Wonder who she gets that attitude from?" Junseo chimes in.

"Can't forget that one time we took her to the park and another kid wanted to play with her, but Chacha held up a stick so they wouldn't get close to her." Seonghwa laughs at Junseo's story before he rubs at Charli's back.

"Aw pea, you can't do that."

"I don't!"

"Mhm. Now she wants to act all sweet and innocent cause you're here." Soyeon crosses her arm and nods at the bag. "Long night for Y/N, I'm assuming."

"You could say that." He continues to hold Charli against his hip while grabbing at the bag. "Hey, let's go wake up Auntie Y/N?" She happily nods as Seonghwa walks off to the suite. As expected, you're still deep under your covers, messy hair the only thing peeking out from under. "Go wake her up, Chacha." He says lowly, putting her down so that she can run to the bed and wake you [rather aggressively].

"Titi Y/N! Titi Y/N! Wakey wakey!" Seonghwa chuckles to himself as he sets the food out on your coffee table, grabbing two bowls for you both. 

"Oh my god, Chacha. Please." You groggily say as she bounces on your bed. "How are you even in here right now?"

"Uncle Hwa! He has food so you need to eat now." You would've thought she was grown with that attitude, you think. You chuckle as you rub at your eyes and sit up, giving your niece a proper bear hug and cuddle.

"Thank you, pea." You give her a kiss on the side of the head before you get up to wash up and get yourself ready for the day. Once you've freshen up, you do feel a bit better, though your tummy still feels unsettled so Seonghwa's timing is perfect.

Like always.

You plop next to him on the floor, while Chacha welcomes herself on his criss-crossed lap. He pushes the container of spring rolls and the huge bowl of pho towards you since he's already had his first helping, eyes glued on your TV even though it's just the Secret Life of Pets [probably by Chacha's choosing].

"Thank you, Hwa." His big eyes dart to you before he gives you a small smile and slurps his noodles.

"Course." He feeds some to Chacha when she politely asks for a bite. "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, a bit. This will help majorly." You slurp the soup.

"Chacha! Let's go! I told you we were only stopping by for a bit!" Soyeon calls from outside.

"No, mama! I wanna stay with Auntie Y/N and Uncle Hwa." She whines loudly, on the verge of an actual breakdown as she stands in between you two.

"Hey Chacha, remember? We're gonna spend some time together soon while mama and papa are away." You pull her close to you and brush the hair out of her face. "Just me and you. Uncle Hwa too." She nods, a tear falling from her eye as she pouts. Seonghwa has to look away because he's finding that the more he's fixated on this scene, the more he imagines a future like this with you. 

And he can't do that to himself.

"Okay." She mumbles with the pout still on her face. You continue to brush her hair back and wipe the straggling tears before standing. 

"Say bye to Uncle Hwa." You dust down your clothes as Charli throws her hands around his neck for a tight hug.

"Bye cutiepie." She giggles before taking your hand and meeting her mom and dad outside in the backyard.

"Swear, she's so stuck on Seonghwa." You laugh and hug Junseo.

"Can't blame her." 

"Well, good to know you're alive. And not at Mingi's." You roll your eyes.

"Always ruining the moment. Leave." Soyeon sticks her tongue out and waves.

"I'll call you later to talk more about the trip. Gotta prepare!" She says in an excited tone, one where you can't help but laugh a bit and shake your head.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm charging you double this time." You call out before giving one last wave and heading back into your suite. Seonghwa is still seated on the ground, but he's drinking water and has his bowl pushed aside. "You're not gonna eat more?"

"No, go for it. It's mainly yours. Mrs. Dao gave you spring rolls and extra peanut sauce on the house."

"Aw, I love her. She's so sweet." You take a bite into one. "What're you gonna do today?" He shrugs.

"Probably hang out at Joong's or San's." He looks at you. "Why?"

"Can I come?"

"No?"

"Why not?" You whine playfully, knowing you don't actually wanna join their weird little boy party.

"Because all you're gonna do is flirt with San and we have important business to take care of." You snort and laugh loudly.

"No I'm not! And important business? Like fucking yelling at each other during a game of FIFA?"

"No."

"Right." You roll your eyes. "I'm kidding, I don't wanna join in your sad little no girls allowed party."

"Girls are allowed." He smirks. "Just not you."

"You really are such a dick to me sometimes." He laughs, blocking the pillow from hitting his face.

"What, and you aren't a brat to me?"

"I beg to differ."

"If only you knew." He snorts, pinching your cheek. "I'm just joking, you know I am. You're always welcome to come."

"No, I really don't wanna go. Was just teasing." You finish up your food.

"What're you gonna do then?"

"Work at the restaurant and serve some middle-aged men their beer and food while they ogle at me." You joke and he winces.

"Mmkay well, have fun with that." Seonghwa stands and cleans up his trash before wiping your table down thoroughly. "Make sure to invite me to the wedding or else I'll be pissed."

"You're full of shit, Hwa." He groans when he sees a drop of peanut sauce land onto the surface that he's just cleaned. "Oops."

"I swear to God." He sighs, cleaning it again before shaking his head.

"You love me."

"I beg to differ." He mocks you just as he washes his hands and stretches. "Alright, well I'm out. Get some more rest before you head to the restaurant, you look kinda torn up." He ruffles your hair, causing you to smack his hand away and flip him off.

"Fuck you, get out." He chuckles as he heads out the door and leaves you to your peace.

When Seonghwa gets to his place, he manages to tidy up a bit, shower and throw on some fresh clothes before calling Hongjoong to see what the consensus was for the meeting place. Hongjoong ends up telling him that they're all on their way to San's, giving Seonghwa the green light to head over as well. 

On his way over, he tries to push his thoughts to the back of his mind. He tries his hardest not to overthink, not to focus too much on all the stuff that's happened.

The stuff you said.

He knows it's probably just you being drunk and babbling all this mess, especially now that you're finding interest in San. But as with everyone says, the drunk mind speaks sober thoughts. 

Was there some kind of truth to it?

Did you really see him that way at some point?

Is there a part of you that still feels that way?

"What's wrong with you?" Seonghwa looks at Wooyoung in slight disgust as he steps aside and lets him in. 

"Nothing. Just didn't wanna see you first."

"You're an asshole." Wooyoung laughs. "How does Y/N deal with you? She's so sweet and fun, everything you're not—" Hwa smacks him upside the head. "Ow, see!" Wooyoung continues to complain.

"Speaking of her, how's Y/N?" San eagerly asks as he sits next to Hongjoong on the couch, continuing his journey on Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth.

"All of a sudden." Hongjoong snorts.

"She's good. Recovering from her night, I guess. She's going to work soon."

"Mm. Glad she survived."

"What have you guys been up to?" Seonghwa plops onto the beanbag and scrolls through his phone, finally letting out a breath of relief after his night. At least he could relax and chill out here.

"Just hanging out. Trying to figure out what to eat." Hongjoong looks at him. "You eat already?"

"Yeah, I went to grab some pho for Y/N."

"Okay, thanks for the invite."

"You can take care of yourself." Seonghwa snaps back at Wooyoung, making him mock Hwa in return.

"Aye, are you guys down to head to the mall in a bit? We can just grab food there." San asks, eyes still focused on the TV.

"Why do you need to go to the mall?"

"I just wanna buy some new clothes."

"For what?" Hongjoong chuckles. 

"Listen, I haven't been around for awhile, okay? I started cleaning out a few things from my closet for donations. Plus, I haven't treated myself in a long time cause I've been so focused on the program and what not."

"Mm okay, so what's the real reason?" Wooyoung asks, chomping onto a banana. Seonghwa glances at San from his seat, taking note of how his cheeks and ears turn red and how he's suddenly getting shy. Nervous, even.

And he's not sure how to feel. He has a feeling he might know exactly where this is going, and he's hoping he's wrong. Maybe overthinking. Jumping to conclusions.

"I definitely wanna take Y/N to dinner and catch up with her. See where this goes.." San trails off, causing Seonghwa to pause mid-text— trying his very hardest not to make it too entirely obvious that his heart has dropped from the statement, equally sad and annoyed by the entire situation [for his own selfish reasons].

Fuck.

♡ taglist: @hwasbabygirl @fairyofhueningkai @chngbnwf @tinyteezer @everyonewooeverywhere @pearbunny @mxnsxngie @starhwahwa @woosmaid @yeosangsbbg @jycas @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

[tan1shere]

Slumber Party

Ellie williams x fem reader!

A/n: Hello my lovelies, first post on here (more active on wattpad) but thought I'd occasionally post here when I'm bored. If you have any requests at all they're definitely open! Also this is kinda short but I don't plan on making the next part as short. Enjoyyyy ☆°•

My masterlist

Summary: like the song slumber party. Ellie thinks she can treat you better then your shitty girlfriend

Warnings: smut, (not in this chapter) read at your own risk (mdni) Dom but soft, protective, ellie! Reader is quite innocent, is very soft also. Cunnilingus (duh- also not in this chapter) your girlfriend in this is an asshole. Abuse, somewhat angst, crying. Lmk if there was anything else!

Pt 2 here! ~ pt 3 here!

Ellie hated Isabel, your girlfriend. She treated you horribly, and Ellie really hated when you'd bawl your eyes out over the phone to her whenever Isabel would storm out of your shared apartment. She hated the fact anyone would make you cry. She never liked seeing you unhappy. Isabel shared this hatred. She never liked you hanging around Ellie, even if you have known Ellie almost all your life. She would scold you after everytime you and her would hang out. You'd come back to the apartment smiling. "What're you smiling about?" You just smile more happy to tell. "Ellie she makes the funniest jo-" "I don't like you being round her Y/n." You would always stare blankly at her, struggling to find the words, leaving your mouth open while you ponder.

Today was not off to a great start. Ellie had just been over, you two were having such a great time. "I should probably get going squirt." She would flash her smile at you, ruffling your hair slightly, as she stood to go to the door. Ellie was a bit older then you, and come to think of it so was Isabel. Let's just say you had a thing for older ladies. (Only by like 6 years) You also stand up, seeing her out and saying goodbye. But as you open the door you're met woth those dark brown eyes. Isabel had just arrived back from work. She glares at the auburn haired girl, making her way inside. "Well hi to you too." Ellie scoffs then looks at you. "Text you when im home." You give her a small nod and a smile before she leaves to her car. You turn around to be faced with a stern Isabel. "You know how I feel about her being in our home. Especially when I'm not here." You never really talk back to Isabel you always apologize and go into the kitchen to make food. She was truly a bitch and she started showing her true colors the moment you two moved in together. You never understood what you would do so wrong. You made every dinner. Every lil food she'd want. The laundry. Just to please her. And although it'd work, it'd never last. "I'm sorry Iz.. She just really wanted to show me this art she was working on and in person. Nothing more I swear." She let's out a scoff. "Why should I believe you it's almost every day you spend with her. It's sickening and pathetic." You stare at her as she says that. She would always make you feel stupid. When in fact you were quite smart you knew what most things meant. Maybe not so much bedroom stuff. But you were book smart nonetheless. Speaking of bedroom. You were basically a virgin. You've kissed Isabel many times done a lil something here and there but it was definitely not much. So you were certainly not confident on that subject. Although Ellie would tell you all sorts of stories about the girls she's been with. It fascinated you to learn all these new terms and what everything was. "I promise to talk to you before hand next time-" She instantly cuts you off. "Why are you still standing here. Cook, I've been working all day." She spits going to your guys shared bedroom. You sigh doing so. And that was your life.

It was maybe a couple weeks after, you had felt like you were coming down with something so you decided that bed rest was the best thing. It was now 3 in the afternoon. You were sleeping in your bed when the door busted open. "What the fuck are you still doing in bed it's almost 4!" Isabel was home and not happy. You sit up a bit. "Yes I know I'm sorry bu-" She drops her bags. "This place is a mess, there's dishes out. Foods not even ready. Laundry is still in the hamper. What fucking else." You look at her softening your look. "Iz, I'm sorry- I woke up feeling horrid so I decided to stay in bed." She shakes her head. "Even when I have the worst headache known to man I still get my ass up and work. You know all that sweet money, I work for that. And you work here that is your job." This was one of the moments were you'd feel bad for yourself. Weak. Weaker right now considering you're sick. You look down at the sheets. "Are you even listening to me? You spoiled brat." She doesn't do what she does next often but when she does you know you're in the shit. She hits you. Hard. "Wonder why I have a headache all the time. It's you and your whiney voice. Look at how pathetic you are." She glares down at your drowsy figure. You feel tears finally sting as you had held them in. Refusing to let yourself be so weak, but you give in. Feeling overwhelmed with emotions right now. "What the fuck are you gunna be like when I go away in a few weeks huh? You better keep this place spotless you know about the cameras. I'll be watching you." Yes. The oh so lovely cameras. They're only in the kitchen, living room and laundry. The only places you slave away at. "I will iz I promise." She hums. "I'll believe it when i see it. I needa go out and grab some stuff. Make sure dinners ready when I get back." She says before getting her keys and leaving. You then sob. Letting it all out as you shakily grab your phone going to the only person who knows how to comfort you. Ellie.

When she arrives not long after, giving a honk. You go outside and get in the passenger seat. "Off anywhere?" You shake your head. "No that's alright. I don't want to get yelled at.." Ellie sighs. "Bub, you can't keep letting her treat you like this-" "if I left I'd have nowhere to go Els.." She keeps looking at you. "Yes you do. Mine." You let out a small breath looking down at your hands. "Everythings so messy." She nods, even if you can't see. "I know angel but my offer still and will forever stand. I think you should take it." You just wipe the small tears forming at your eyes. "How was your day?" She hates how you change the subject. She always has. She wants to talk about it with you more. Comfort you more. "Pretty easy going. Do you want a hug love?" You shake your head. "Its best if you don't come near me right now-" "I promise it's not gunna affect me if you cry. You know that." You nod. "I know, but I'm sick- thats why she yelled at me.." She furrows her brows. "She got mad at you because you weren't feeling well? What a fucking bitch." You sigh, in the midst of a slight cough. "Angel you should go back in and rest. Let me help-" You immediately shake your head. "She'd know you were there. I- I couldn't risk that." You always felt awful. Not because you got yelled at but because she would want to pick a fight with Ellie too. Ellie was older then Iz too, more mature. Never bought into her crap. "I'll make sure she doesn't yell at you, you really need rest you work your ass off-" You stop her talking. "I don't want her to try anything with you Els." She shakes her head. "She won't. I promise just let me make you some soup and tuck you in. Please, just that." You contemplate whether or not you should but you nod regardless.

She was making the soup trying to be as speedy in hopes she wouldn't bump into Isabel. "Here you go. Say you made it for yourself. I also cleaned a lil." She sends you a wink. And when she says a lil she means the whole lot. "Els, you seriously didn't have to." She smiles gently. "No but I wanted to. I also made something else. Knowing grump would be hungry when she gets back." You look at her so thankful. "You have no idea how much I appreciate you." She gives you a kiss on the head. "Call if you need anything else. I love you." She says while looking in your eyes. "I love you too Els." You respond sweetly. Oh how stupid you were to realize how INlove she was with you. But she plans to show you sooner or later. As she's the one you should truly, be with.

[readerthatreadsss]

Requesting more dom!peter 😮‍💨🥵

𝗔/N: Your request is my command! (especially since I've been searching for more dom!Peter fics myself and have been failing so I might as well do it my damn self!) Also, yeah, it's been a damn long time lmao. I planned to finish up and release this like 4 months ago. Then a whole bunch of bad shit happened and I kinda gave up on writing for a little bit (outside of school cause I need that damn Bachelor's degree) BUT I've slowly started reading again and that bled into me opening up my drafts and finding this and spending some time with it. If you couldn't tell I had a shit ton of fun with this one...so feel free to check my newly updated Masterlist and request guidelines and send me more requests! The more I get, the more I'm gonna force myself to actually write them. (If you already sent one just know I’m working on it I promise)

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗧𝗮𝘀𝗺!𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿

(heavily inspired by the song with the same title by Adele.) It came up in my shuffle and when I started listening to the lyrics it was just too perfect.

he's so fucking pretty aghhhh (gif not mine)

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tasm!Peter Parker x Vigilante!Fem reader

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.6k+ (This is my big comeback so I might as well feed yall)

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: You and Peter have been broken up for about 3 years, but when an impromptu visit to your apartment takes a turn...that may no longer be the case...

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 (𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜): SMUT!, lil bit of angst at the end (ex to lovers so ofc), minimal use of y/n, P*rn-with-plot, Reader and Peter are FERAL for each other because of their powers (enhanced senses and all that), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), a lil possessive Peter, oral (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, Peter using his webs to restrain reader (pre-consented ofc), dom!Peter, sub!Reader (bratty at first tho), pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, angel), choking, rough sex, brief spanking, other positions, creampie, etc...

The remaining sunlight of the evening bled through your wide studio apartment windows as you finished folding what was left of your newly washed laundry. The plan for the rest of the evening was simple;

Drink two bottles of wine (knowing that your enhanced metabolism would sober the effects), catch up on a few missing assignments to keep your NYU professors off your ass, then jump into your suit and go patrolling.

It was a familiar routine.

Or at least, it had been...since he left.

Your relationship with him ended during your first year of college. To say it hurt like hell would be an immense understatement.

What hurt the most was the fact that you both gave everything you had to make it work...but long distance can be a bitch.

On that warm Saturday night in May, your ex-boyfriend received a call informing him that he had been accepted into a very prestigious engineering program (with a full-ride scholarship attached) all the way in California.

You applied for the very same program, so you knew just how big of an opportunity it would be. And, in good faith, you pushed him to take the offer.

You both insisted, "we'll make it work," and "we'll video chat and text every day. It'll be fine!"

What a load of horseshit.

It took 6 months for you to both arrive at the conclusion that you couldn't juggle your individual academic loads, your nighttime hero personas, AND a long-distance relationship all at the same time. A three-hour time difference didn't help matters either.

It took a while, but you eventually moved on. You kept your grades up, went on a few dates here and there, and even managed to convince yourself that you were doing fine without him.

Until...

*knock knock knock*

Your head peeked out from the fridge to look where you heard the strong yet hesitant knocks on your front door.

Only a handful of people knew where you lived and you weren't expecting to see any of them today.

Assuming it would be a postal worker or someone along those lines, you swung open the door with a polite smile.

"Hi-"

You felt your voice die in your throat as you locked eyes with the deep brown ones you hadn't seen in three years.

"Peter," his name fell from your lips, barely audible.

"Hi, Y/N," he replied with that awkward grin you knew all too well.

His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him, but from the tight fit of his jacket, you could see that was about the only thing about him that shrunk.

You wanted to actually hit yourself in the head for actually imagining yourself doing many things to his large...meaty...biceps- NO, no, no, no get a grip! a voice of logic sounded in your mind.

You hadn't realized how long you stood there silently sizing him up until he spoke again. "Can I...uh...come in, maybe?"

"Umm...sure," you nervously answered, finally taking note of the small cardboard box he was holding.

As you stepped aside to allow him entrance into your apartment, his familiar scent invaded your sensitive senses.

"Oh God," you muttered under your breath, knowing that he heard you, yet unaware that your scent had basically the same effect on him as well.

"You alright?" he turned and asked you in concern trying to hide the tightening of his jeans with the box he brought.

You nodded way too fast, promptly putting some distance between yourself and him. He hadn't been there for longer than 5 seconds and he was already having an effect on you.

"How've you been?" he questioned you, scratching his neck and actively avoiding eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, he was currently repeating every physics law he could remember in his mind to try to quell his growing erection.

It wasn't working very well.

"I've been fine. You?" you quickly spoke, slightly out of breath.

"I-uh-I'm alright," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.

He soon found himself just looking at you. It wasn't a blank stare, no, it was the sort of intense look you unintentionally gave someone when trying to commit every single feature to memory as if you weren't certain when you'd get another chance to.

It was a habit of his you noticed a lot when you were dating. And just as it did back then, it sent chills running rampant down your spine. Not to mention your nipples growing obviously hard behind your large shirt with no bra to hide it.

Peter noticed it immediately and fought back a smile, which you glimpsed.

"Why are you here, Peter?" you decided to get down to business before your body betrays you any further.

The brunette let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before actually coming up with an answer. "I wanted to drop these off," he placed the small box on your kitchen counter.

Your eyes immediately narrowed. "You could have mailed it. Or you could've just dropped it at the door and then left. So why are you really here Peter?" you would have felt worse about your tone if you weren't so bothered.

Why the hell did he feel the need to suddenly show up and make you start feeling things you swore you wouldn't feel for him again?

Peter took a deep breath. "Aunt May called me last week. She's not doing too good. So, I came back to help take care of her."

You felt your stomach sink at his words. While you both dated, May grew to be like a second mother to you. You had no idea she was sick.

"Oh shit Peter-I'm so sorry," you crossed the room to engulf him in a hug, despite your initial reaction to his visit.

Peter immediately accepted your hug and found the anxiety in his body dissipating soon after. Your hugs tended to have that effect on him.

He couldn't stop himself from deeply inhaling and drawing in your hair's familiar scent when he wrapped his hands around your clothed waist.

A few seconds passed before you released each other, with you also savoring the feel of his body against you and the way how your skin lit up with goosebumps though there was a thin layer of clothing separating his hands from you.

"I was just cleaning up my old room at May's and I found some of your stuff so I figured I'd drop by and..."

You nodded in understanding and walked over to where he placed the box.

It was mostly filled with old t-shirts, tools, and gadgets from days when you would sleep over at Peter's or stop by to help each other with school projects.

"Thanks," you sent him a smile as you closed the box.

Your smile warmed Peter's heart. It was actually his second favorite thing about you, after your hugs of course. "Yeah, you're welcome," he smiled back, running his hand through his hair. It was a mess by now, but you still wanted to run your hands through it…or maybe even pull on it-

"Sorting through some of this stuff made me realize how much I...missed you," he said, his tone growing more assured.

Thankfully, you were still facing away from him, not giving him the chance to catch the pained expression that briefly crossed your face.

But you could feel him slowly approaching your frozen figure and found your body silently reacting in ways it shouldn't be, yet again. "Do you miss me?" he asked, his voice heavy.

You held back the urge to scream "Yes!" because admitting that out loud would be taking 3 steps backward.

Admitting that you missed him would be undoing all the work and tears you put into moving on from him and the hopes and dreams you had for a life with him.

Admitting that you missed him would mean giving in to the part of you that thought back to your most intimate moments with him when you touched yourself.

And admitting that you missed him would mean letting him back into the four-cornered box you had locked yourself in for the past 3 years.

But, with every step closer that he took, your resolve disappeared that much faster.

"You okay?" he called for your attention.

Your sharp intake of oxygen brought a tense silence over the room when you turned to face him and realized that he stood close enough for your lips to nearly brush his.

"Peter, I-" you tried to form words, but then you saw his lust-filled brown eyes lower to your lips.

And that was all it took for the last of your self-control to disappear.

"Damn it," you mumbled once you realized what was about to happen.

Before Peter could question your outburst, you found yourself latching onto his jacket lapels and pulling him down to meet your lips.

It took mere milliseconds for Peter to react. After all, he had been thinking about doing this since you swung open the door and looked up at him with those eyes of yours.

His large calloused hands took hold of the sides of your face as you clashed in a heap of teeth and tongue. It was desperate and feverish but it was perfect.

It was a language only you and Peter seemed to master, even now after three years apart.

Your lips moved swiftly against his, eager to taste more and more of him with each passing second. You felt him press his growing bulge flush against you, causing a pathetic whine to involuntarily tumble from your lips and a smirk to find its way onto his.

"I did miss you," you softly spoke, "but we can't do this Peter," the logical part of your brain made an appearance, though you kept peppering his lips with kisses.

As his lips moved to your neck, Peter's hands slid down to your ass where he effortlessly lifted your legs off the ground and up around his waist. The feeling of his hands against the bare skin of your thighs garnered yet another moan from you.

"You don't sound so sure angel," you felt him smirk against your heated skin.

You hadn’t heard that nickname in years yet it sent small chills down your spine for the second time that night.

A mumbled curse slipped your lips when he nipped a particular spot below your ear. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.

You soon gathered the strength to pull Peter's hungry lips away from your body, swinging your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.

"We can’t go back from this, you know that right?" you spoke, the both of you panting from the effects of the last minute.

"I don't wanna go back," Peter shook his head, "I wanna fuck you, right here, right now," his lips immediately found yours before his words could fully resonate.

This caught you by surprise which allowed Peter to slip his tongue between your lips.

As his taste continued to flood your senses, you felt yourself grow alarmingly wet.

Peter knew it too because he slowly pulled back and smirked down at you. "I could smell you from the moment I walked in here. Glad to see three years hasn't changed the way your body reacts to me, angel," he accompanied his words with a quick slap to your ass.

His slap and the familiar pet name left you a moaning mess. Just like he knew it would.

A lovely laugh left Peter's mouth before his lips met yours again.

He walked your entangled bodies over to the kitchen counter without breaking the sloppy kiss.

Peter used one hand to blindly clear the counter and place you on it, which sent your box of things flying toward the floor.

Not that either of you cared.

"Too much clothes," you were barely able to say in between kisses.

You followed up by shoving Peter's jacket off his shoulders which fell to your hardwood floors with a thud. He immediately got the message and got rid of his t-shirt as well.

A shameless whimper left your lips at the sight of his very toned muscles. You easily maneuvered Peter's body closer to you and began kissing and sucking his neck and every other available inch of skin just as you had pictured earlier, making sure to leave a few purple bruises in your wake.

“You’re killing me here baby,” Peter harshly swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as you continued to have your way with his chest.

"Wouldn't be a terrible way to die though, right?" you mumbled between lovebites and licks. You felt like an animal in heat but you just couldn't get enough of him, the occasional flex of his muscles with each slither of your tongue and his deep groans only egging you on more.

The taste of his skin alone could've made you cum easily.

But the same could be said for Peter as the feel of your tongue slithering all along his chest had him practically creaming his pants then and there.

Fucking enhanced senses, he cursed inwardly.

“Alright, ease up pretty girl,” he reluctantly grabbed your head, detaching your swollen lips from his body.

“Your turn,” he tugged at the hem of your top.

You quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare top half to him.

He spared no time in cupping your breasts with his eager hands. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbled.

"Me, or my boobs?" you jokingly raised a brow at him.

"Definitely both," he grinned, bringing his mouth down to your tits.

As his tongue made contact with the soft mounds, you loudly moaned and wrapped your fingers in his unruly tangle of hair.

He switched between nipping and sucking on your nipples, in the way he knew you liked, while his free hand pinched and squeezed the other.

"Just like that Peter fuck-" hearing his name fall from your lips drove Peter insane.

His tongue flicked your sensitive nipples harder, and his eager sucking pleased you to no end.

Peter eventually pried himself away from your supple breasts, remembering the other parts of you he wanted to worship, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of your head. Your lips connected once more in a delicate kiss.

Though you knew what lay ahead for the evening, you were both perfectly content with each other's lips at the moment, just enjoying the constant waves of pleasure from the intimate contact.

But it wasn't long before the kiss grew heated and you tried to take control. Peter, however, wasn't giving you a chance.

"I leave for three years and you think you're hot shit, huh," he smirked.

"Why don't you ask the guy I fucked on this counter last week," you retorted, knowingly riling him up.

"Don't say shit like that, it's not funny," he nearly growled as his grip on your ass grew more forceful.

You secured your grip on his hair before pressing a small kiss on the side of his lips. "Gimme a reason to shut up then," you challenged him.

“Trust me, I will,” Peter grabbed your hands from his hair and forced them to your sides. His movements were swift as he laid you flat on your counter and ripped your thong off your body.

There he is, you smiled to yourself. This is the Peter you wanted to fucking ruin you.

You felt his face ghost your drenched opening as he deeply inhaled your scent. "You smell fucking delicious baby," he praised you, his mouth actually watering at the thought of tasting you.

A genuine smile found its way onto your face but morphed into a gasp when Peter teasingly ran his tongue up your sensitive slit.

"You taste even better," he added, using his strong arms to bring your thighs closer to his head. He wanted to tease you but it was getting harder to resist the urge to dive right into your heat like a man starved.

"Holy shit," you all but screamed as he briefly nipped at your swollen clit before sucking on it to soothe the sting.

His grip on your thighs combined with the ministrations of his tongue was pure bliss.

You attempted to slip your hands in his hair once more, but found that they were suddenly held in place against your counter by two of his webs.

Your eyes briefly widened at the feel of the rough, sticky material against your wrists, not having felt it in a few years. Back then, you expressed to Peter your desire to engage in some bondage, but being the daughter of a super soldier, it was clear that no rope or wire would be able to hold you. Peter's webs became the next best choice.

"That's not fair," you pouted, though it melded into a moan as Peter continued to suck and lick between your glistening folds.

The sounds of Peter devouring you resounded through the small apartment.

"I'm close Pete," you whined, your chest heaving in arousal.

Peter decided to focus his tongue on your eager bundle of nerves while he slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy. He instantly curled the digits causing you to briefly squirm at the sudden pressure against your G-spot.

"More," you begged, and Peter delivered, adding another finger inside of you. He immediately sped up his motion inside of you, making sure his fingers gauged that spongy spot to drive you over the edge with each thrust inside of you.

“That feels so fucking good, Peter, oh my God," you loudly moaned at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, calling forth an orgasm with no warning.

You repeatedly bucked against Peter's face as you came, white-hot pleasure filling your veins. Peter locked onto your stare, still skillfully working his fingers in and out of you, loving the way you constantly clenched around his fingers.

"Jesus fucking Christ," your legs jerked when Peter dove in and drank every ounce of slick you had to give while still fucking you with his fingers.

With his face now damp of your juices, Peter looked up to meet your blissed-out eyes. "Gimme one more, angel," he placed a soft kiss on your thighs, "I know you can do it for me."

You would do anything to keep Peter's mouth between your legs.

So, you eagerly nodded in response before taking a deep breath in preparation for another onslaught.

You didn't have to wait long.

Peter’s tongue went to work on your glistening hole while his fingers fiddled with your overstimulated clit. And, within minutes, your thighs were trapping Peter's head as an even bigger orgasm rocked you again, the borderline pornographic sounds leaving your lips shooting straight to his hardened cock.

Peter seemed perfectly fine with staying between your legs all night, but you had other plans.

"Pete, I need you inside me," you begged, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes.

He rose from beneath you and climbed up to free your hands from his webs. "I know, baby, I know," he softly replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and using his hands to soothe your reddened wrists. Your own taste on his tongue flooded your senses which made you even more desperate.

Peter obliged, slipping out of his sweatpants and sliding his girth between your folds. He used one hand to hold himself up above you on the counter, and the other to slowly guide his dick into you.

You both shared a long moan as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, your wetness making it way too easy.

He held still for a few seconds, waiting for you to adjust and give the all clear for him to move.

Eagerness guided your words. “Fuck me, please.”

Peter set a brutal pace, knowing you were more than capable of handling it. Satisfied cries left your chest as you dragged your nails along Peter’s back, hard enough to leave trails.

“You can take it, pretty girl, I know you can,” he groaned as he continued to pound into you, trying desperately not to blow his load with the way you were constantly clenching around him and marking his back.

You tried to reply, but all that you could form were sloppy moans and broken syllables.

“Oh look at you, drunk on my cock already?” he teased with a particularly hard slam that prodded your cervix, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Pleasure-filled cries mingled with words continued to fall from your lips as Peter gently moved a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear with a hand. "-feels so fucking perfect," you muttered, your lips curved into a drunken smile.

Peter reached down and pinched one of your nipples, gaining a loud whimper from you. “I love hearing you make those pretty sounds for me baby,” his strokes grew harder and deeper.

“All for you, Pete, all for you,” you panted as he fucked into you, the delicious smell and sound of sex lingering in the air.

Peter used a hand to wrap around your throat before using the other to reach down and fiddle with your aching clit.

The combination of Peter’s dick hitting that perfect spot, his fingers massaging your clit, and the lack of air from his hand around your neck was making you dizzy and overstimulated.

You fucking loved it.

“God, I missed you,” you spoke breathlessly.

He moved closer to kiss you briefly and tenderly. “I missed you too, baby.”

No amount of time could take away his knowledge on how to please you, how to get you like this with ease, not when you were all he thought about for years on end.

Peter pressed a quick kiss to your forehead then continued to fuck you on your kitchen counter.

"I'm gonna cum again baby, right fucking there," you moaned out.

Peter's grip on your neck grew tighter. "Not yet, don't you cum until I tell you to sweetheart," he commanded you, removing his fingers from your clit.

A frustrated groan rumbled in your chest as you forced yourself to sustain your orgasm.

"Don't pout," he smirked.

And before you could realize it, Peter had pulled out of you and effortlessly flipped you onto your stomach.

A hand soon gripped your hair, yanking you up against his chest and eliciting a pitiful whine from you.

"Tell me what you want,” Peter commanded, using his free hand to strike your ass. Hard.

You whimpered again at the sting of his slap. “I need you inside me. Please,” you pleaded.

He seized your hair harsher and leaned forward for his lips to graze against your ears. “Beg.”

A small whine left your lips at his words. You were so desperate you didn’t even care how embarrassing this would be in retrospect. “I need to cum, Peter. Please baby you're the only one who can make me cum.”

Peter pressed a kiss to your neck, nearly causing you to lose your footing. And he soon complied by ramming himself back into you.

“Oh my Fuck-“ you cried before biting your lip, suddenly aware that you had neighbors.

But Peter pulled his cock from your heat, with just the tip remaining, before roughly slamming into you, his hips slamming against your ass with the motion. “Come on, lemme hear you angel.”

He repeated the action, knocking the air out of your chest, “Peter!” your hands gripped the sides of your counter with such force you were sure you felt it crack under your grasp.

Peter caught wind of this and freed your hair before using his hands to pull your hands behind your back. "You're so perfect baby," he mumbled in your ear, continuing to brutally fuck you from behind, "So fucking beautiful with my cock inside you."

"I can't hold it anymore," you cried, "I need to cum, Peter, please."

With that whiny tone and those overstimulated tears to top it off, Peter couldn't deny you any longer. "Let it all out for me sweetheart. Cum for me," he littered your shoulders with kisses.

Your eyes slammed shut as your walls contracted around his cock, pleasure shooting through you and rocking you on a seemingly cellular level. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, unable to form a sound from the satisfied tremors attacking your nerves. The intensity of your finish is one only brought on when Peter fucked you and it was damn near cosmic.

"Shit," you groaned in relief, your long-awaited climax passing.

Peter slowed his movements inside of you and released your hands. "You did so good for me angel," he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck, trying to stave off his own orgasm for a little while longer.

Aftershocks rocked your body while Peter continued sporadically moving inside of you, yet you couldn't get enough. Your body was more than ready to keep taking whatever he dished out.

Peter didn't need to read your mind to see that, but he needed to make sure. His lips kept up their onslaught on your neck as he softly spoke, "You wanna keep going?"

"Hell yes," you panted with a grin that he couldn't fully see, "You still haven't cum yet, and my bed is still fully made."

Happy with your response, Peter gave your ass a sharp smack. "That's my girl."

He pulled out of you and turned your body to face him, smiling at the sight of your fucked out face. "Three orgasms and a handful of tears later and you're still the most beautiful girl in the world," he held you by the sides of your face.

His words left you reeling, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks and butterflies to swirl within your stomach.

Before you could form a response, Peter leaned down to kiss you. He soon hoisted up your legs around his waist, preparing to escort you to your bed as per your own demands.

As he looked around for the bed's location, you took advantage of his momentary distraction and latched your lips onto his neck, reapplying the bruises you left there that were slowly fading already.

Peter was the happiest man on earth as he walked over to your bed, his cock prodding your soaked entrance, and your lips ravaging his neck.

He carefully sat on the edge of your bed, with you now on his lap and your legs still around him. You expected him to ease his length back into you but he slowly brought your head down to meet his intense stare.

You carefully wrapped your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself up, the silence in the room growing deafening.

You could tell from his eyes that he desperately wanted to say something, and you wondered if it was the same thing you had been considering as well.

But you were both aware of what saying those words would mean for your broken relationship and simply settled for smiles instead.

Peter brought a hand up to lay your forehead against his, allowing your breathing to momentarily sync.

"You ready for me?" he questioned you with a hand at the nape of your neck to hold your head against his.

You immediately nodded in response causing his own head to shake in time with yours. A small laugh was shared between you both as your nose continued to brush his own.

"You're adorable," you said before you could stop yourself.

That stupid full-toothed grin that you hadn't seen in a while soon spread across his beautiful face at your words, gaining another laugh from you.

"Last round?” you eventually pleaded with a smile.

"Anything for you," Peter replied, meaning it in every way. Adoration littered his stare as he slowly lowered you onto his length.

A satisfied mewl slipped your lips at the familiar feel of him.

The slow drag of his cock in and out of you, while he rocked your hips back and forth to grind on him, had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth with eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure.

But Peter wanted to see it all. He wrapped a hand around your neck and forced you to meet his dilated eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

His soft yet stern tone caused you to swallow back a moan as you continued to move on his girth.

He then slapped your ass with his free hand, silently urging you to move faster.

You leaned down and quickly kissed his lips before happily obliging, now beginning to bounce in his lap, chasing your next climax.

“There you go angel, just like that,” Peter’s stare never wavered.

Peter furiously fucked up into you, your moans and the constant smack of skin on skin filling the apartment.

His other hand which never left your throat now squeezed it harder. “Fuck!” You were barely able to moan out as your breasts bounced with your every move.

“Shit, you’re gripping me like a vice,” Peter groaned, his crude pace never faltering though his orgasm was closer than ever.

Your bed creaked under the onslaught of your bodies, but neither of you payed it any attention only having one goal in mind.

“One more time,” Peter planted his feet on the ground to get a better angle, "Need you to cum on my cock one more time."

But from the broken pacing of his hips to the strong furrow of his brow, you could tell he was close too. “Together?” You breathlessly suggested, grasping the nape of his neck with your hands.

Peter nodded in agreement before engulfing your chest and back with his arms, pulling you closer to his body.

Your breaths mingled, eyes focused on nothing except each other as his grip on your upper body allowed him to help you ride him even faster.

"Yes, Pete, oh my God-" pleas, curses, and moans tumbled from your lips as your skin buzzed at your incoming release.

"There you go, cum for me," Peter's voice grew strangled as his hips stuttered below you.

"Fuck," you wailed, your finish hitting you like a freight train and your pussy leaking into Peter's length.

The intense clench of your walls around him was all it took for Peter to explode with a groan, his pace faltering with that final pump.

"Holy shit baby," he panted, his cum painting your walls in spurts.

His firm hold on your body brought you collapsing on your bed together, satisfied and smiling.

And, for what felt like hours, you lay there in his arms. But of course, your thoughts began to run rampant.

Peter could damn near hear your thoughts spiraling.

"I don't regret this," he suddenly broke the silence you had elapsed into, "Do you?"

"Peter I-...I don't know," you freed yourself from his hold and sat up to look at him.

His brows furrowed at your response, hurt briefly flashing across his features.

"I loved you," you spoke, "I loved you more than anything."

"I know. I loved you too," Peter nodded with a small smile.

"And I will never blame you for leaving. Ever," you slipped a hand in his own and squeezed briefly.

"But?"

Your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. "What happened to us, it damn near destroyed me, Peter. And it took so so long to put myself back together."

Peter swallowed harshly at your words.

"And then here you come, waltzing in here, fucking my brains out and making me feel things," you lowered your head, looking away from him.

You heard Peter move closer to you before feeling him lift your chin to face him again. His expression wasn't as disappointed as you'd expected, just confused. "Spit it out. I know you're holding something back."

"Why'd you come back here and-and do all this? Reminding me of what we had when you know you're gonna be gone again in the next few weeks?" you felt your voice shrink to a broken whisper.

Peter used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that fell from your eye, his previously puzzled look now morphing into a smirk. There was obviously something he wasn't telling you.

You sniffled and lightly hit Peter's shoulder. "Well, now it's your turn bug face, spit out whatever you're hiding!"

You received no answer other than Peter leaning forward and pressing a deep kiss against your lips. You eagerly accepted and returned the spontaneous action but were left even more confused when he pulled away.

"That wasn't an answer," you arched a brow at Peter.

"I'm not going anywhere," he smiled.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm moving back to New York, or already moved, technically," he began to explain.

Your mouth opened and closed in shock as your brain fumbled for a response and came up inconclusive.

"I'm gonna finish out the school year online and stay here to take care of Aunt May. I mean it, baby, I'm not going anywhere," he grinned, watching tears of joy fall from your eyes.

"This better not be some sick fucking joke Peter, I swear to God," you pointed a finger at him accusingly.

"Can you shut up and just come here?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you obliged and grabbed Peter's neck before pulling him in for another kiss, your face still wet from tears and a smile almost permanently etched onto your face.

You pulled away but sank into his open arms. You relished how securely he held you. "I'm so happy," you said aloud, truly meaning it for the first time in a long time, though it was only meant to be an inner thought.

Peter kissed your forehead and looked down to meet your eyes, "I'll never stop making you happy, Y/N."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

[teyamsgrl]

fruit picking ✧ neteyam

THIS FUCKING GIF IS LEGIT MAKING ME CRY RN 😭 LOOK AT HIS SMILE I CANT DO THIS

anywho, here is my first fluffy fic! i normally stick to smut but figured i should throw some fluff (and a lil angst) into the mix so here we are! plus i love neteyam and the thought of him as a perfect mate 🫠

°˖➴ warnings: fem omatikaya reader, pregnant!reader, agedup!neteyam, l-bombs, a little angst, fainting mentions, worried teyam, happy ending dw - yawne: beloved

being three quarters of the way through your pregnancy was crazy to you and neteyam, wondering where the time had went. your stomach had quite the swell and neither of you could wait to meet your little one. despite being very pregnant, you didn't let it hold you back from doing what you loved. you had only taken a pause on your tsahik practices just recently, much to your dismay but mo'at insisted that you take a break from your duties and cherish the last bit of your first pregnancy. you still traveled through the village, picking fruit and even hunting.

today was just like any other day, out for a stroll while neteyam was doing his own duties throughout the day. you came across some fruits, deciding they would be a perfect snack for neteyam's arrival home later on. you pick a few, putting them into a woven basket that kiri had made you. you hummed as you continued on, suddenly feeling a sharp pain shoot through your head. "ah.." you wince at the sensation, placing your free hand upon your forehead. you move to lean against a nearby tree, pain becoming worse by the second. you search your surroundings, noticing that your vision has now become blurry. your eyes begin fluttering, and next thing you know you are seeing black.

"grandmother!" kiri announced as she barged into the tsahik tent, holding you up with the help of lo'ak. "what happened here?" mo'at questions, helping kiri lie your currently unconscious body down onto a woven mat. "go get neteyam" she gestures to lo'ak, urging him out the door. "i just found her in the forest, slumped down against a tree like this, i don't know how long she was like this before i got to her" kiri rambles as she grabs your hand, praying to eywa as her other hand rests atop your baby bump. mo'at collects items before she gets to work on you. neteyam bursts into the tent with lo'ak on his tail, breathing coming to halt when he spots you on the floor, his grandmother moving around you as kiri still remains at your side. "my brother, come" kiri motions for neteyam to take a seat beside her, "kiri, what happened?" he questions frantically, intently watching mo'at's actions. "i don't know, she passed out i guess? i was just walking and saw her like this, looked like she was picking some fruit.." she gestures to the basket that lo'ak had placed near the doorway. "fuck..." he mumbles and pulls on his braids, feeling angry and anxious all at once. "she will be okay, and so will the baby. grandmother is an amazing tsahik.." she hugs him from the side, his eyes filling with tears and dropping onto his crossed legs. "she has to be okay, they both have to be" he whispers, leaning more into his sister's touch. mo'at says one final sentence before leaning back on her knees, hand pressed against your forehead.

as if on cue, you take a sudden sharp breath and shoot up slightly, eyes flickering open. "stay down, my child, relax" mo'at says as she lays you back down onto your back. "yawne!" neteyam exclaims, moving to come into your view. "you're okay, i'm so glad you're okay" he exhales, placing his forehead on yours, some tears dripping onto your cheeks from his own. "i'm here, ma'teyam, don't cry" you move one hand up slowly to wipe away his tears, stroking his cheek after. he smiles softly and pulls away to kiss your forehead, looking to his grandmother, "grandmother, is the baby alright?" your breath hitches as you await an answer, that being your next question as well. "yes, healthy and well, as are you, y/n. your great health allowed your baby to be protected in this moment" she smiles and begins to clean up her items, kiri gives your hand a squeeze before getting up to help her. "both okay..." neteyam whispers, kissing your forehead again. "i don't even really know what happened" you sigh, bringing a hand to rub over your bump, "all of a sudden i got this pain, then everything was blurry... now i'm here" neteyam places his hand on top of yours, nodding as he listens to you. "i'm sure it was scary, luckily kiri stumbled across you" you smile and grab kiri's hand just as she goes to collect the last of mo'at's items, "thank you, kiri. you literally saved my life," you nod down to your stomach "and theirs". she smiles back, "you do not need to thank me, i would do anything for you and the baby". you allow her to grab the items, looking back to neteyam.

"can you help me sit up? i'm feeling a bit more steady" he holds one arm out for you to hold while the other helps you up from your back. you get a better look around the room, spotting your basket of fruit by the doorway. "my fruit!" you giggle, spotting lo'ak against the wall beside it. "lo'ak, did you save my fruit?" he nods and chuckles a bit, "i did, kiri was a bit ahead of me and found you first, then she called for me and demanded i bring the fruit as well", "well thank you, i'm going to enjoy that later after all this" you giggle a bit more and look to neteyam as he shakes his head. "what?! it was mainly for you, by the way" you smile and kiss his cheek. he laughs quietly, "are we okay to head home?", "yes, but be careful for the next few days, stay close to home and rested" you nod and stand up slowly with neteyam right beside you, "thank you, mo'at. you are not only my mate's grandmother and my teacher, but a wonderful tsahik. thank you" she places her hand on your cheek, smiling softly before gesturing you two to head out.

once you arrive home, neteyam hugs you as tightly as he can with your bump in the middle, hands rubbing along your back. "scared me back there, yawne" you nod and hug around his neck, toying with his braids. "i know, i was scared too, when i fainted... had no clue what was going on. and i worried about the baby... first thing i thought of when it all went black, same with when i woke up" you sniffle a bit and nuzzle into his neck. "well you're both healthy and both here, which is what matters most" he whispers as he continues rubbing your back, pure love and relief surrounding your bodies. you nod into his neck, relaxing instantaneously under his touch. "i love you, ma'teyam, thank you for being the best mate and best soon to be dad" you move out of his neck to stare into his eyes, sparkling with adoration, "i love you too, so much.. you're the best mate, honestly, and i know you'll be the best mother" he leans in, lips interlocking with yours in a devoted kiss.

[onlyseokmins]

a tiger's dominion [2] • k.s.y.

"Some days you tame the tiger, and some days the tiger has you for lunch."

Pairing: kwon soonyoung x afab!reader Genres: porn with PLOT (minors dni!), camstars!au, university!au, best friends/idiots!au, goofy comedy, cheesy fluff, and angst Warnings: cam shows and camera sex obv, swearing, me thinking I'm funny, sex toys, alcohol, food, gym/exercises (reader works out), innuendos, perv behavior from everyone ngl, boob obsession, switch!Hoshi and reader, light-hearted threats, denial of feelings and lots of advice, subpar communication, spicy shower time, insecurity, lots of pet names, mentions of dacryphilia, fingering (fem. receiving), nipple pinching/pulling, slapping, spanking, crying after sex bc it feels good, lil bit of pain/temp play, multiple orgasms, grinding, dry (wet) humping, thigh riding, slight ab riding, face-sitting, slight punishment (?), nasty and messy 69, marking, slight possession, titty job, squirting, spit play, cum-eating, and it's just WET MESSY SEX FILTHY GRRR with a touch of sleepy after-care WC: 21.3k A/N: finally!!!!!!!!!!! the long awaited part 2!! this is such a huge labor of love for me despite the many hurdles, i am so proud and happy to post it finally! i would like to give a huge thank you to @duhnova and @onlymingyus for doing the big deed of beta'ing for me. without their help this would be an even worse mess ajdkfs <3 so so appreciated and a big thank you to the anons, readers, and kind blogs that left so many nice tags on the first part, i hope you enjoy the continuation just as much and look forward to the finale!!

➯ a tiger's dominion ◇ [teaser] ◇ [part 1]

Seokmin's a safe bet. 

He's clumsy, awkward, and kind of weird enough to distract people from the fact that he is absurdly handsome and his endearing nature easily melts everyone's heart. You like Seokmin a lot, you really do. 

Plus, he's a taken man, and that makes it even better for him to be the one to drive you out to the repair shop. The same one that he was ever so kind in recommending to help you save money.

Seokmin's best boi.

But you kind of wish he would shut up.

"You're telling me that the guy you've had the hots for — mind you, for eons — admits to jerking off to your sexy videos… and all you say in response is 'great'?" 

You cross your arms in defense, thankful the car's stopped at a red light when he throws his hands up in the air in disbelief. "What was I supposed to say? And it has not been eons."

"As long as I've known you, you've liked him. And that has been many, many, many years."

"We've been friends for a little over two, Seok. Besides… it's not like I 'like' him like that entirely."

Lee Seokmin. Better known to some as Dokyeom or DK. He's a fan-favorite and still rated number one on Svthub's audio porn section despite the sudden "retirement" announcement a couple of months ago. You're more familiar with the joint viewer account he shares with his girlfriend though — deathbyd1cks — and the expensive gifts they love to send.

They taught you a lot about the streaming world. The do's-and-don'ts. How to gain and maintain viewership, safety, and money. You hadn't expected to end up with mentors (turned sugar daddy and mommy, let's be honest) when you'd messaged his girlfriend — who was single at the time — for advice. Neither had you anticipated being the leading factor in pushing them to confess their feelings for one another. 

Nor could you have guessed they were locals attending the downtown city's university, not too far from your own. But here you were and boy — were you grateful to them. Because they were now dear friends. Although you saw Seokmin in person a lot more than you were able to see his girlfriend lately, as his schedule this semester was much freer than hers. Hence why he was the solo figure driving you out today.

"I can't wait to watch this stream," Seokmin mumbles as he excitedly taps his fingers against the steering wheel. "If you're already super dick-drunk now, imagine what's gonna happen when the real thing's in front of you. I'm tingling!"

You scowl. "Why are you more excited about this than I am? And I am not dick-drunk!"

"Because you're gonna see his dick — that you're totally drooling over — in the flesh… speaking of which, you're both all tested and clean, right?"

"It's not like I don't already know about ninety percent of his sexscapades as it is." You roll your eyes at the reproachful tone he uses when saying your name. "Yes, of course, he sent me his latest results and everything's fine. And you already know about me."

You hear him hum in agreement. His girlfriend really likes you — so much that she even offered to invite you to become part of a potential threesome. Not even for a camera act but out of pure (as pure as you can get with that kind of request) intent. 

Of course, you declined though. As much as you loved them and were flattered by becoming somewhat of their sugar baby, you had rather strict rules on engaging in any sexual activities with your friends. Or anyone for that matter. Regardless of how tempting. 

Until now.

Your head thumps against the headrest of the seat. "Why the fuck am I doing this to myself?"

"Doesn't have to be this agonizing. From the vibes I'm getting, he's into you. Definitely thinks you're attractive."

"This isn't some fanfic where the best friends fuck and there's this grand reveal that they've had mutual feelings for one another all this time."

"You don't know that."

"Don't make me question reality, Seokmin — my problems are real and there's no way there's some silly little author out there with their evil mind deliberately making me go through all this shit."

His shoulders reach his ears as he shrugs. "Maybe we're all just some god's little playthings in the grand scheme of the universe."

"You're literally so irritating when you get philosophical and ambiguous. Revoking your friend rights." When he simply snickers, unaffected by your empty threats, all you can do is shake your head. "I don't want to go off of vibes. And I don't want him only liking my body. I know, I know — as cliche as that sounds, you've got to understand where I'm coming from."

"You want his heart."

You purse your lips as the autobody shop comes into view. "I actually… don't want anything. It's better for everyone that way. Besides, he still has that date this week."

"Ouch," Seokmin winces at that as you get out. Rolling down the window, he calls out to you. "Still rooting for the best outcome, though. You know we've always got your back no matter what!"

A fake smile and thumbs-ups are all he gets before you wave goodbye. Once the car has disappeared down the gravel road, you turn and approach the open garage door. Jeon's Repairs looks like something out of a horror film. A creaky building covered in dust and located out in the middle of nowhere. 

Maybe if you were murdered out here, it would be better. But you know that's not going to happen.

"Hello?"

"Hiiii!!!!!"

It's just as much of a shock as the first time when you see the six-foot-two mechanic wave energetically as he stands up to full height next to the open car hood he was bent over. A thin, white wife-beater is barely able to properly cover his large chest muscles. The minuscule shirt is basically ruined from oil spills coating it, the shiny amounts of perspiration from the hard manual labor he performs, and various upper body sinew bulging as he moves.

"Hey, Mingyu. How're you?"

He sweeps back the curly bangs that fell out of his man bun and shoots you a dazzling smile. "Right as rain, like always, Sugar. Your car is too. Fixed 'er up and she's runnin' like brand-spankin' new! You'll be ridin' a beast in the streets for sure."

Mingyu's a funny guy. You already like him and this is only the second time you've met. That's why you can't help but tease him back with a mischievous smile. 

"How do you know my car's a girl?"

"Ah," he walks over to the stall where your car sits and you follow, eyebrows raising at the affectionate slap he gives to its side before leaning against the front, thick and muscular arms crossed. "'Cause I know my way best around the ladies. Always get them makin' the prettiest noises for me jus' right."

"Don't let him lie to ya, sweet stuff." The new tone you hadn't heard the last visit makes your eyes widen at the new visitor's entrance. Long legs on perfect display with short denim shorts and a white tank somehow even scantier than Mingyu's. They send you a saucy wink. "Why don'tcha tell the truth 'stead of bein' a creep, Gyu?"

"Sorry, Bun." When Mingyu grins this time, it's all teeth. "Not tryna steal your thunder or anythin'."

"'sides, if anyone knows their way 'round women, ya know who's best 'tween us."

"Although it's true Bunny is our star mechanic and a star at… other things, you're embarrassing me." The door to the office opens and the man in charge steps out, peeking at all of you with a stern gaze over his wire-rimmed glasses. "I apologize for their antics, it's a pleasure to see you again."

He greets you formally with a handshake that you return. "The pleasure's all mine, Mr. Jeon."

"Wonwoo is fine, 'Mr. Jeon' sounds like you're addressing my father."

"Wonwoo it is then. You can call me by my first name as well and please, it doesn't bother me whatsoever, my good friend is much worse, I assure you."

"Gyu said you're friends with MinMin."

"Uh, Seok… min? Yeah, he spoke highly of here."

"He's always been such a good boy." You would wholeheartedly agree but the way they say it almost hints at something else. "Dare I say it's a shame he's now hitched. Or prolly soon to be."

"Hey," Wonwoo calls their name warningly even as he's busy cross-checking your total but they don't pay him any mind. "Seok told us — "

Nor to Mingyu who is elbowing them not so discreetly in the side. "He also told us not to — "

"We're streamers!" they exclaim excitedly, interrupting both men. "Well… we were. Kinda hard to set shit up when yer out here fuckin' like — haha, bunnies all the time, ya know?"

The boss now refuses to look up from the papers he's writing but his partners' two pairs of sparkly eyes with matching, mischievous grins beam at you. Your cheeks burn at their openness but you do smile back.

"I see."

Flawless (despite the grimy work conditions) French manicured nails tap excitedly along your wrist before pulling you in close. "Don't worry, Seokminnie didn't say anythin' but ya know how ya can tell when he knows somethin'? So, we did some deducin' and detectin'. And we're sooooo excited for yer collab!"

"Ah, thank you? I didn't know I had such... enthusiastic supporters here."

"Friends can always be found in the most unsuspectin' of places!"

"Truly, um… I hope you didn't give me a discount or something just because of that." 

You chew on your lip out of concern because your car looks polished like brand new and you're sure it'll run great — even better — as Mingyu declared. All of that for the price deducted from your bank account almost seems unfair to them. In fact, you could return most of the sum Soonyoung had given you, perhaps rendering the collab null.

Except he'd already made an announcement on the forum page and then accidentally locked himself out of his account for forty-eight hours. And the post is still up for a ton of people to see and share around the community. Your notifications are blowing up — some in excitement, others jealous — but all in anticipation. Evident from the fact that the people way out here in the countryside with spotty internet knew about it.

And you hated letting people down. Or thinking you chickened out. 

Wonwoo finally unfreezes to refute and shakes his head adamantly. "No, our pricing is standard as always so please don't worry about any illegal or favorable treatment."

"Good, 'cause I don't think I can afford to go to court," you laugh. 

"It's only fun if yer on a reality TV show, hon. We don't intend to go to court unless we're on one 'n it's guaranteed we can win the case."

"Remind me to never get on your bad side, then."

"Oh, sweetheart — all I have are good sides." They turn in place, swaying and showing off the best parts of their assets. 

Mingyu wolf-whistles while you clap along politely and Wonwoo takes that opportunity to sidle up to you, returning your credit card, keys, and receipt. You thank him and he nods, subtly gesturing to follow him outside.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you. Hopefully, you'll consider coming back again if you need any more fixer-uppers. As long as the crew didn't scare you away."

"They didn't, I think they're lovely."

He regrettably looks over his shoulder and you peek along. Trying your hardest not to laugh at the scene of Mingyu having whipped out an expensive camera from who-knows-where and is now snapping shots of their partner dancing.

"Yeah, they are. They just get really excited meeting new people, especially fellow streamers."

"So, it's true, you used to stream?"

A wicked smile is shot your way. "Sure did. But watching is just as fun, if not more. Especially with folks as excitable as them."

"Oh, I'm sure you get into lots of trouble."

"You couldn't even imagine." 

"I can't." 

Wonwoo clears his throat after that comment. It's not surprising that he's good at picking up on things and reading the room. A nice expectation when you're in any type of relationship, especially given his shared dynamic. After a drawn-out goodbye with the lively throuple, you finally slide into the driver's seat of your car to leave.

The ride back to the city in relative silence allows your thoughts to wander. It's true. You couldn't imagine such a relationship filled with laughter, trust, and positivity. Now you're sure it wasn't perfect, obviously. But that's probably where a good amount of open, clear communication helps fix whatever issues arise.

It seems like something out of a fairy tale. Just as you told Seokmin, a fanfiction plot built to accommodate its main characters and their perfect story. 

You're not sure what role you're destined to live out and honestly, you don't care. You're goofy, impulsive, damaged, insane, and doing the best you can. That should be enough in this wretched world, right?

Although you decide it's not enough for you personally and make the split-second decision at the stoplight to pull into the parking lot of Limbo. Your favorite supply shop for some much-needed stress relief and serotonin boost.

"Welcome to Limbo, where our prices are as low as they go, and our products will — oh, heya!"

"Hey, Jun."

The welcoming slogan is always cut short when Junhui's on the clock and you walk inside. As the owner, he's all too familiar doing business with you. He might even consider the two of you as more than acquaintances. Friends maybe. Dropping the customer service routine, the attractive blonde smirks at you with raised eyebrows and leans against the counter.

"And what can I do for my favorite customer?"

"It's not good to play favorites."

"Who says I'm playing?"

You roll your eyes. "As the biggest playboy I've ever met, when are you not?"

"Touché," he laughs and quickly stops the fake flirtatious act. "Honored to be pulling more bitches than your furry 'boy friend'."

"I don't have a dog so you have to be talking about… why is everyone bringing him up today? You know he's not my boyfriend!"

"Because someone tends not to realize how much they overshare and don't worry, dearest. I know that foolish boy hasn't made a move on you yet, hence the air quotes. Shame on him."

"Don't talk about it," you mumble, "and he's not a furry. He genuinely thinks he's a tiger. Maybe that's how he's able to pull new dates out of his ass all of the time without a tail plugging it." When Junhui erupts into more manic laughter, you cross your arms. "Just tell me what you've got new in stock, please. It's the only reason I'm here."

"Of course, of course. Let's see — ah, do you know how revolutionary this is?"

You dubiously eye the large cardboard box he pulls out and starts waving around. "A… card game?"

"Bingo," he snaps his fingers, "except a hundred times better. It demonstrates the best way to find the clit through an interactive and compelling game!"

"Why are you showing me this? I know where the clit is."

"Congratulations! But not everyone does, do you think your friend can find it? Maybe you can buy it for him."

"How are you still in business, your sales pitch is terrible," you complain with half a mind to strangle said salesman right then and there. Your eyes drift over to what's behind him on the wall, eyes widening with the ideas suddenly flowing through your head.

"I thought we were besties, I just wanted to show off goods that aren't attached to my body." Junhui pouts, albeit good-naturedly but you're not paying attention anymore — despite his next words. "Perhaps, you can be the one to educate him."

When you don't respond sardonically as expected, he follows your zoned-out gaze with a questioning brow raised. Meanwhile, Mingyu and Wonwoo's partner's kind words before you'd left play over in your mind.

"First non-solo stream, eh?"

"Oh, um. Yeah."

"A word of unsolicited advice, darlin'? Enjoy yourself. Make it fun. The feelin's can figure themselves out after, yeah?"

After you'd assured them their advice was very much welcomed and that you appreciated another steadfast supporter you know in-person, you'd exchanged numbers. Now, their final parting words before driving off echo in your ears like a haunting siren's call. Bidding you to do its will. Your neck heats up, remembering their mischievous smirk and saucy wink. 

"I didn't peg you for someone into collars and leashes."

You're snapped out of your hazy thoughts. "Well, don't because you so aren't. Ever."

"Yeah, yeah. Well, I would have thought you were someone who'd prefer these more," Junhui snickers wickedly, an atrocious set of fuzzy pink handcuffs he'd pulled out from under the counter dangling off his pointer finger. "A more hands-off, no touching approach."

The vision that scandalously pops into your mind is quickly dispelled. Banished even. So you refute by lying and saying, "It's not cuffing season."

"Oh, you're down bad. So bad." He shrugs. "Think of it as a bonus then." You watch in mild horror as he also throws them in a plastic bag. "I'll even give them to you free of charge. So, what color do you think will compliment your boy toy best?"

"He's not my — " You close your eyes, taking a deep breath and trying again not to think too hard. "Any will do. Just give me black… oh, and that too."

A wolf whistle. "Someone's in for a treat. Or trick. Something."

"I will literally cry if you say another unnecessary comment."

"Luckily for you, dacryphilia isn't really my thing. Yet."

"Oh my god!"

"All I'm saying is, this'll be some good shit." 

"Do not — and I repeat, do fucking not — make me commit murder in broad daylight, Jun."

"Alright, alright," he holds his hands up in surrender, biting back the endless jokes and puns that always threaten to roll off of his tongue. Instead, he changes the subject to something you're less likely to kill him over. "If things get boring, tedious, heart-wrenching — text me. I can set you up for some decent mixers!"

"By my stupid luck, you'll be the only one who shows up."

"If you wanted to date me so bad, all you had to do was ask." He takes the credit card from your iron grip and swipes it with ease while batting his eyelashes at you. "Tempting but no thanks, darling. Though trust me when I say I have tons of acquaintances who know how to have a good time. And get down and dirty if you'd like."

"I don't even want to date you but… I'll think about those mixers," you concede and grab your purchases. Given the nature of his job, it's obvious he has all kinds of connections. "See you around."

When the little chime marks your farewell and you step back outside, you're not sure how much of a stress reliever that even was. The back of your head hits the headrest of the seat with a defeated thump once you're inside your car.

Damnit, Junhui!

Peeking inside the bag with a grimace, you toss it onto the passenger's side. What were you even thinking? The buzz of a phone halts you. The name belonging to the very bane of your existence flashes across the screen.

"Hello?" It's silent. The line crackles and you think he might have just butt-dialed you until a desperate call of your name comes through via a different but not unfamiliar voice. "Oh, hi there, Chan. Please don't tell me a certain someone's in trouble."

"I'm so sorry to bother you but… yes. He's um… very, very, very intoxicated." 

You glance at the clock on your dash with a frown. "At this hour?"

"We went out for a lunch break and he ordered a drink. Maybe two…"

"Oh, no. Why? He knows he can't handle liquor at all, especially at restaurants and bars."

"Like it was great to go out for a good time since he's seemed out of it. And we did try to stop him but…"

"You're not his babysitter."

"Yeah." You both fall silent. You're mentally cursing Soonyoung for embarrassing himself in front of his junior dance team. As their captain, no less. At least Chan had experienced this too many times. Unfortunately. "Um, and… he won't stop talking about you so… I thought the next best bet was to call you."

Your blood runs cold. "Is he saying weird things?"

"N-no… of course, not! You know how he gets."

Soonyoung's more of an emotional, lovey-dovey drunk than a secret spiller but maybe you have too much faith in him, judging by Chan's rushed and uncertain response.

"Yeah, I do," you sigh, "where are you?"

"We were at his place and tried to get him to go inside but," — "no, stop trying to kiss me!", someone in the background shouts in protest — "um, sorry but anyways, he keeps insisting to come see you. And none of us knew if you were home or not."

You can hear the drunken slur of your name clearer now and assume Soonyoung is getting all up in Chan's business while he's on the phone. Possibly to say hello to you. 

"I'm out right now —  "

"Oh oops, sorry! I'll try and get him to calm down — "

"Wait, so you're at his place?" you rush to ask after he accidentally cut you off. 

"Well," he lowers his voice as best he can, "we're just driving around with the excuse that he'll think we're taking him to see you." 

"Okay." Glancing around the parking lot you're in, you know you would die before admitting to the young, up-and-coming dance crew member that you were anywhere near a sex toy store. "How about we meet at my place? I'll be back home in about fifteen?"

He agrees readily, apologizing once more with a guilty tone at having to bother you. Soonyoung being a chaotic drunk doesn't occur as often as one might think but when it does happen — it's always an experience to remember. And somehow you and Chan always seem to be the victims of circumstance when shit goes down.

"I'm… I'm really sorry about this."

"Don't be. If there's anyone that has to apologize, it should be the one that caused the situation in the first place." You attempt to lessen the intensity of your glare when facing the younger man. "Unfortunately, that will have to be after he sobers up."

Chan shuffles his feet, cheeks dusting a light pink because he's not sure where exactly to look. After dragging his senior's body out of the car when he'd arrived at your place and then lugging him up to the door, the inebriated man completely melted right onto you and is now intimately nuzzling at the crook of your neck. All while you remain expressionless, arms crossed above Soonyoung's that embrace you.

Something gnaws at the young man, telling him that this is a bad idea. "Um, are you sure you don't want me to take him back? Drive around a few blocks before he passes out?"

"Wasting more gas in this economy? Don't worry about it… besides, he doesn't deserve to wake up by himself with the sun shining through his window and birds singing now, does he?" Your rather menacing tone causes Chan to instinctively step back to leave until you blurt out, "Oh wait!"

"Yeah?"

"You said that this buffoon kept talking about me, right? What kinds of things did he say this time? Y'know, wanna make sure it wasn't slander or something gross."

Being buried six feet under would be much better than ratting out his mentor or becoming the victim of your misplaced wrath. "Ummm… he said you have pretty… eyes, yeah! Pretty eyes!" When you blink them once — twice — Chan uses that as his cue to escape with a rushed "See ya!", taking two steps at a time to scramble back in the car with his friends.

Pretty eyes, my ass, you think to yourself and glower at the man clinging helplessly to your side.

Slamming the door shut a little too harshly causes Soonyoung to flinch and nestle impossibly closer to you. His clumsy hands knead the skin below your breasts, innocently inching a little too high for comfort. Gripping at the strands on the back of his head, you tug him away only to grimace at the inappropriate moan that escapes his mouth.

"Shut up."

"I… said nothin'?"

"Yeah, well. I've heard enough already," you snap and urge him forward until he topples onto the couch headfirst. "What's got you acting up like this?"

His eyes have stayed squinted this whole time even in the dim area of your living space, a perpetual frown on his puffy red face. It's cute even if he looks like he might cry. Although a closer glance and being all too familiar with his drunken habits, you think he might actually be on the brink of tears.

"…me."

"Hm?"

"You been… 'voiding me."

"No, I haven't."

"'course, that's what you think."

"I've been busy."

"'s what you always say."

"Do not," you argue. As a point, you stare directly into what you can see of his dilated pupils only inches away from those pursed lips of his to fluff the pillow on his right. "Had to pick up my car and everything. It hasn't been that long since you've seen me."

"No texts?"

"I'm not on my phone twenty-four-seven."

"Liar. Going without me."

"You wouldn't have even known where the place was. It was in the middle of nowhere and recced by a friend."

"You have friends?"

You sigh in defeat. "Yes, I do, Soonyoung. Whatever, it's not like you're comprehending or going to remember any of this anyways."

"I will."

"Yeah? What's two times two?"

"… Twenty-two!"

You nudge him over in exasperation and he falls down on his side, head perfectly landing on the pillow you propped up while he lets out a heavy sigh that you echo. "Sleep tight, dumbass."

Throwing a blanket around the lower half of his body, you know his tolerance has improved enough that he won't make a mess of the furniture. Shaking your head — albeit fondly — you head inside your room for the evening. Later on, lulled into a dreamless sleep by the even-tempo snores of your best friend.

Drunk Soonyoung is a deep sleeper — easily knocked out for more than twelve hours. 

By the time he's come to, he's slept through you waking up early, fussing in the kitchen, starting laundry, and stumbling around looking for your shoes before leaving (you needed to get out before you grew too soft over seeing him asleep on your couch). You don't even bother to keep quiet, knowing the man won't stir until his body has detoxed all the alcohol out of his bloodstream.

He's a little upset to find you gone, the living quarters noticeably a bit chilly without someone else — you — in it. Though a sheepish smile lights up his face after seeing medicine and a glass of water on the table. Plus, the usual post-it note with a frowny face scribbled on it that you left for him.

Like it's a habit, his fingers slide across his phone screen rather efficiently to speed-dial your number, smiling at the profile picture he chose. A candid picture of you laughing so hard at his funny antics you didn't hear the shutter clicking. Sometimes being bad at using technology works to his advantage.

"Morning, how's the hangover?"

"Barely feel a thing, must be the magical fairy dust you sprinkled over me."

You make a disgruntled noise before playfully asking, "Four times four?"

"… is sixteen. Whatever I said last night you cannot and will not hold against me, okay?"

"Sure."

He notes your noncommittal response. It's strange when you'd normally fire back at him. Rhythmic pounding noises thud in the background, and if he holds his breath to listen closely — he swears you're panting.

"What're you up to?"

"Workout. Treadmill."

Soonyoung blinks. 

Forbidden thoughts of your pretty tits and ass deliciously bouncing in time as you jog flood his mind. Licking his lips, the imagery turns to you bouncing on something else. Like his cock, for example, that's already starting to swell and stiffen up at the thought. His attractive best friend panting hungrily for him instead of in the gym. Exactly as when you squirted all over that pathetic vibrator of yours.

You're a goddamn perv, he chastises himself. 

Groaning as quietly as possible, he clears his throat. "You're not a fan of exercise routines. At least, you've always hated mine."

"Yours are stupid, insanely hard. A friend of mine said to keep fit, you know — to look nice for that."

"Friend? What kind of friend says shit like that?" You're reminded of his question last night but he continues on with sudden passion. "You're already pretty just the way you are!"

"Mhm-hm, and what exactly about me do you think is pretty?"

Heat burns on Soonyoung's neck, traveling upwards to set his cheeks aflame. There's no way you know what he's picturing right now. Banishing those scandalous ideas far, far, far away (for later maybe), he scrambles to answer. 

"Your… your… eyes!"

He's not sure what he's expecting but it's certainly not a scoff of disbelief coming out of his phone's speaker. Only the wall you're facing can see how hard those very eyes roll.

"Lies. All men do is lie."

Before he can ask you to elaborate, a male voice he can't make out nor identify takes your attention away. Soonyoung frowns, eyebrows furrowing in perplexity at your amicable, "Be right there," before you bid your friend a rather miffed goodbye. 

"Please lock the door when you leave."

"I can't stay?"

"… Just don't destroy anything."

A toothy grin emerges on his face as he thinks back to where you told him the spare key was. "I wouldn't dream of it, babe."

"Uh-huh. 'kay, bye."

"Bye!" The suddenly smug man hangs up. Donning a smirk on his face for no audience to see, one that Jihoon would shake his head and say his roommate must be up to no good.

Well. If you're going to do a workout with some other guy just because his routine is too intense — in more ways than he could ever know — Soonyoung's going to have to show you what you're missing out on.

Meanwhile, a chill runs down your spine. Puzzled, you pat at the sweat glistening on your forehead, neck, and back with the towel looped over your shoulder as you cool down. Turning off the treadmill, you join Seokmin on the large floor mat where he's attempting to stretch but has given up in pursuit of draping his body over a stability ball.

"What are you doing?"

"Becoming one with the ball."

You snort. "Is it working?"

"Yes." Turning his head, sparkling eyes stare up at you. "The universe has spoken to me and told me that was your special tiger boy. Does he miss you? Long for you?"

"There's a twenty-five-pound weight next to your girlfriend's foot. Don't make me go get it and throw it at your head."

He whines out to said partner about how mean you're being to him, only receiving delighted laughter as meager consolation in return. Setting down the heavy bar, she swings her legs off the bench and saunters over. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, a bejeweled eyebrow raises at how Seokmin forlornly rolls across the floor before he drops the act to grin at her knowingly.

"I don't like the look you two are sharing."

"Relax, sweets. When have we ever done something bad?"

"Do you want the evidence mailed or faxed by the time I gather up all the receipts?"

"You're so funny and cute," she coos, fiddling innocently with your workout bra strap. 

"And you both are insane. Lovely. But insane."

"I promise it's nothing crazy, right Seok baby?"

"Yeah, it's really tame. Nothing big either."

You shake your head. "So, it's not another extra, extra large-sized vibrator? 'Cause I was told that wasn't big either."

More bubbly giggles fill the empty gym. "How 'bout we grab some food on our way out and we'll share the deets?"

"I suppose so, could definitely use a cold drink now."

"A drink? At this time?" Seokmin teases as you search for your cover-up hoodie and zip it up. He'd wrangled all the details out of you this morning about last night's events while you helped spot him on the chest press. "Was taking care of your tiger boy really that bad?"

"… How you haven't broken his perfectly shaped nose yet is beyond me."

"'cause he's adorable. And frankly, dearest, you can be a real sour puss sometimes."

"Sorry, I'm surrounded by irritating idiots all the time that test my patience."

"Even me?"

"Never you." You loop your arm through her free one, causing the fake pout on her face to disappear. 

Seokmin hangs giddily onto her other side, matching his girlfriend's radiant smile. He's used to the usual light-hearted jabs thrown his way and knows they aren't meant with any ill intent.

The three of you traipse outside where the fair sunlight and time of day increase the crowd of people milling around. Business always flourishes for the food stalls lining the sidewalk when the stroke of good fortune smiles down on them with pleasant weather. Especially when hungry gym-goers stop by for a refreshing drink or delicious snack like your trio needs after a hard routine.

"So, what's the grand secret you're hiding?"

Shiny, long hair is flipped over a tattooed shoulder with such a sure smile on her face and for the umpteenth time, you wish to have even a fraction of the self-confidence Seokmin's girlfriend exudes. "Got a sexy little number for you, darling. Nothing insane but I know you'll just love it and well," a glee-filled snicker, "I know he'll absolutely adore it. Isn't that right, 'Min?" she asks louder.

Her boyfriend nods in agreement even though he probably hasn't heard a thing other than his name from where he's busy paying at the stand. You roll your eyes.

"Thanks, but is that really necessary?"

"Of course!" she gasps, "it would be a bit of a shame, really, but I wouldn't be surprised if he tore it right off. Hah, it will be easy to tho… but anyways, the setup is always key. Remember, I told you it's just like foreplay and equally as important. You're already hot stuff and you're just gonna look even hotter flattering your best assets. He's gonna end up blowing his load, I just know it!"

"I'm going to have a meltdown," you state rather evenly while she squeals. Quite proud of yourself for the fake calm demeanor. 

A hand wraps around yours, squeezing encouragingly. "Listen to me. I was in the same boat a year ago and what great advice did I receive?"

"That was different."

"How so?"

"I mean look at you two now."

"Yeah, I found the love of my life. But that's not what I'm referring to. You know how murky our feelings stupidly were at the time and what did you tell me?"

You sigh in defeat and repeat, "'Whatever happens, happens but at least you know you tried'."

"Exactly." She puts a hand on your shoulder and the other one tilts your chin up so you have no choice but to meet her firm gaze. "And I wasn't happy when you said that but it's true. Plus, my intuition deep down is never wrong and something tells me this will be good either way. It's why we got you something to help boost your confidence, yeah? Think of it as armor… even if it doesn't cover much!"

You groan her name. "Geez, alright. You're right. Someone else said the same thing but I'm just — you know…" You wave your arm around and she nods understandingly. 

"I get it. It's okay to feel that way, perfectly normal. Be honest with him, at least about the nerves part if that's what you're only comfortable sharing. I think he's gonna treat you right during this, though. You're his best friend when it all comes down to it! Remember, you both have equal control over this so make sure to express and communicate at all times."

"I don't know if he'll have any control with what I have planned," you mutter and her eyebrows raise up in surprise before they wiggle suggestively with a salacious grin.

"Oh? There's my spicy sugar baby."

"Hah, stop it, you! I dunno, I mean we didn't discuss what we would be doing anyways so…"

"Mhm-hm. Well, don't forget we're always one phone call away. For anything."

"In fact, we could just book a nearby hotel." Seokmin returns and hands out your respective orders. "We haven't spent the night in one for a while, have we?"

You make a face of disgust following the couple to their parked car. "There's only trashy motels that reek of sex out my way. Like the dorms on campus but five times worse."

"Whaddya mean, that sounds perfect?"

"C'mon Seokmin," you grumble and he chuckles. 

His girlfriend takes out a white clothing box wrapped with an elegant black ribbon. "Don't open it until right before you're ready to stream. I know you'll overthink it if you see it any sooner."

You bite your lip but nod, pulling her in for a hug. "Thank you a lot. For everything you always do. I know you're right." Taking in a deep breath, you stand back and nod at both of them. "I'm going to do this."

"Yes, you are! You're gonna take that dick and own it, regardless of fuzzy feelings, you better enjoy it for what it's worth!"

"Baby, we're in public!"

"What, that's never stopped you before? You just handed over a lingerie set on a public street!"

As they bicker, you hear your phone ding. 

You gasp. For multiple reasons. None of them good ones.

Throwing your head back, you let out a frustrated groan before turning to face your curious friends. "It was great seeing you guys but I have to make a call and hurry home. Love you, will talk to you later."

They blow you kisses goodbye, acting as if they aren't chortling like little demons to each other that you have a very important dicking-down appointment to make. You pretend like you don't hear them, urgently dialing Soonyoung's number.

"Heya."

"Tell me you didn't bleach and dye your hair in my bathroom sink!"

Your devious best friend can't help but find your fuming cute as he plays with the tattered strings on his sweatpants. "I didn't."

You halt your fast stride and accusingly huff into the phone, "Then you're just fucking with me?"

"Not yet, actually."

"Kwon Soonyoung!"

"What? You didn't answer my question. Y'know I was gonna call and ask you what color you'd prefer but I didn't want your gym buddy to overhear."

"So you left and came back just to make a mess of my bathroom, maximizing the chances of my landlord potentially killing me?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"If you thought Jihoon was pissed, I can get much scarier than him."

"Oh trust me, I know. Better hurry that cute ass of yours home to get me to behave."

He hangs up, leaving you standing on the side of the street with your jaw nearly hitting the concrete. You hope that Soonyoung had learned his lesson after horribly — albeit accidentally — staining Jihoon's brand-new sink the last time he'd had done something crazy to his hair.

But as usual, he never fails to surprise you in the worst of ways. For as irritating as he was, it was honestly sometimes a surprise that you were best friends with him — let alone ending up with stupid feelings that totally don't exist.

The heavy weight of male testosterone hanging in the air smacks you right in the face when you open the door. So much so that you have to take a step back, shake your head, and approach your own living quarters with much more caution.

"Honest to god," you mutter to yourself, only just able to hear Soonyoung's grunts, groans, and controlled exhale over the obnoxious blaring of his workout playlist. You pray your neighbors won't file a noise complaint. "Is he for real?"

Like out of a wet dream (yours), the lean arms of your best friend curl inwards to bring the dumbbells toward his head. Biceps bulging, the rest of his muscles visible through the thin white tank draped over them ripple in time with his precise movements. An audible hiss from the burn of exertion is followed by furrowed eyebrows, lips curling inwards before he relaxes and releases the tension. 

The only thing keeping you from fainting is the sight of his fuzzy bleached hair sticking out at odd points. Reminding you of why you stormed home in the first place.

Having seen your reflection in the blank TV, Soonyoung sets down the weights and turns to face you with a lazy grin. Shaking out his arms, the bracelets on his wrists jingle and jangle, silver beads against his tanned skin make it glow even more.

Like who even wears jewelry when they work out, you think to yourself with critical disdain to distract away from the fact that you're staring. In disbelief obviously. Pure and utter judgment.

As if you don't have a dainty golden chain around your own neck, the pendant resting demurely above the low zipper of your hoodie. 

You miss the hungry dark brown irises following the way it dangles back and forth above your chest when you bend over to set down the bags you're carrying. Unconsciously biting down on his bottom lip at the pretty view presented to him. Hurriedly flitting his eyes away with slight shame when the charm nestles itself exactly where he was staring as you stand back up. 

Just in time to meet your fiery glare that burns into his dilated pupils — this time, not from alcohol.

You're too busy staring at the mess on his head to really notice and he uses that to his advantage. As much as possible. But the attempt at sexily brushing back his frizzy bangs only makes them look worse and causes your scowl to deepen. A failure in making you swoon or laugh as intended, he sighs in defeat and turns on the kicked-puppy-dog act. Even though he's a self-certified tiger.

"Don't give me that look."

"I'm not doing anything."

"That's what you should've told me on the phone."

"Ah but… oh, wait… " he calls out as you stomp over to the bathroom only to let out a frustrated shriek. "See? Didn't ruin your basin, babe."

"Oh, you! Like you even know what that word means!"

"I do!"

A withering look is shot his way on your return but it has no effect. Neither do the next words out of your mouth. "I'm going to strangle your rat-lookin' ass for giving me a false heart attack!"

"Hah, I might be into that if it's you doing it."

This time, though, the way you whine out his name causes Soonyoung to shiver. Tiny hairs stand at attention, eliciting bumps to cover his body despite the sheen of perspiration already coating his skin.

God, does he want to hear it again.

You turn away from him, having said enough of your mind and knowing he probably wasn't even listening. Which would be correct. Instead, he tugs at the hem of your shirt and taps your shoulder so you'll face him again, allowing him to put his hands on your hips to keep you in place.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you. Obviously."

"Trying to escape me in your own place?"

"Oh, trust me. I can evade very well while you… work out whatever alpha male energy you need to release in my home."

"But I'm a tiger — a solitary creature with no social structure." 

"No social skills, more like it." You push at his chest, hand jolting back like it'd been burnt upon the realization of just how thin and useless the almost-sheer fabric of his tank top is. Cheeks burning only hotter when his shit-eating smirk widens. 

Absent-mindedly kneading at your covered skin while mentally taking note of how short your attire was on your lower body, Soonyoung chuckles. "You're a tiger too, you know?"

"Stop, I could never compare to the level of your tiger-isms. Because I'm not a furry or whatever you like to call yourself."

"I could convince you to be my tigress," his breath hot against your already burning cheek, "change your mind a little bit, you're already halfway there as it is."

Any biting remark fizzles out in your throat like an opened soda can turning flat, knowing it'll only come out sounding like a whimper with how close he gets. Firm and warm — so warm and his dazzling, brilliant display of teeth only makes everything burn more. Your legs are as shaky as the breath you would have let out if you weren't holding it in just as hard as the grip on the last shred of your sanity.

Your best friend must deviously know who now has the upper hand at your ducked head. Sweatpant-clad knees knock into your bare ones. Urging you back, back, and back until you obediently sit down on the couch. 

Reminiscent of the night before. Opposite positions.

Soonyoung cages your head between his arms, wishing he was shirtless so you could see the way his abs flex in order to hold himself up, not solely relying on the strength of his arms. Your silence and stunned look are enough to boost his ego though, and he knows he can make it up to you.

"Have a few more reps to do, why don't you wait 'til I'm done?"

It's adorable, he thinks — how you're only able to cutely nod, mouth slightly ajar. Completely overwhelmed by him and him alone until he backs away to give you space to finally exhale in relief.

"And why would I do that?"

Broken out of the spell long enough to grouse at him and be taken aback by the unfamiliar but familiar pull-up bar station he's headed toward. However, before you can chew him out again, he easily targets your Achilles heel. Sometimes he's smart like that (or lucky), able to pick up on your strengths and weaknesses you don't realize or try to hide. Either for or against your well-being.

"'Cause I'll make it worthwhile, babe."

And right now, Soonyoung's actively using every effort to work against you. 

Pulling out a baseball cap from who knows where to cover his hideous hair and tossing away his useless top, you have no choice but to momentarily gawk at the defined valley between his back muscles with nothing shielding your view. It's up to your filthy imagination to envision what disappears under the waistband of his gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

"Yeah, right, I'll just look at my phone," you grumble, although you can't tear your gaze away despite unlocking the device with your thumb. 

"See something you like?" 

His teasing is relentless, your shrunken reflection on the TV screen becoming his focal point. Grinning to himself with his tongue sticking out, panting and moaning as acceptable as one can when doing pull-ups.

"No," you lie flatly, "I saw a lot of that not too long ago at the gym." More lies. Seokmin is a respectable man and keeps himself well-covered. "I'm just wondering how you got that damn thing in here."

"I'm stronger than I look."

"I know. Doesn't explain why you bothered to set it up here."

It's hard to shrug in the middle of a pull-up so he hums. "Change of scenery?"

"There's a great view at your apartment. A huge, wide window overlooking a green yard, not some beige wall."

Like he'd admit right now that he'd rather look at you. For amusement. For other reasons. Especially because he has a pretty good idea of how lovely you are undressed.

Continuing to ramble, you carry on. "And if you're all wrung up about me avoiding you — which I'm not — because of the collab, don't be. 'Cause I'll still do it — "

One of Soonyoung's hands almost slips off the bar, losing his grip in his sudden excitement at your words. Stabilizing himself with two feet planted on the ground, he faces you — chest heaving, abs rippling to catch his breath.

"You're still okay with it?"

"I mean why wouldn't I be? I just… had to process things. I'm a bit… well… nervous, okay?" You look down, expecting him to laugh at you.

"I'm nervous, too. Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with the things I texted you, was just caught up in the moment, and I… " He rubs his neck, backpedaling when you flinch. "I meant it! Oh god, I mean… I didn't intend to be a creep, I just wanted you to know that…"

A deep inhale gives him enough air to rush out, "I do find you attractive. I mean you're hot, duh. And… I would and will do anything and everything to make sure you're comfortable at all times and… also… feel good… and… and stuff."

Soonyoung's voice fades away, the idea that he's fumbled the ball so hard and lost the game is super embarrassing. Defeat isn't common. Flirting and securing dates were his forte, his special skills, and the things he never failed at. Yet, with you sitting right in front of him right now — someone who is always by his side — he keeps fucking things up.

It gives him a small flutter of hope though when you raise your head to steadily meet his eyes. A hint of a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You're strange, you know that?"

"I'm trying to have a heart-to-heart for the third time and you're telling me I'm weird?"

"Strange, not weird."

"They're literally cinnamons."

"… Synonyms?"

"Yeah, you know when two different words mean the same thing."

"I — " You shake your head. Typical Soonyoung behavior. Attempting to get back on track, you mumble an apology. "You know, I've been caught up in my head without thinking about what or how you're feeling at all even though you've been pretty open."

"More than open."

"True. It just…. scares me. You're my best friend, Soonie — I don't want to lose you."

Your fearful whisper comes out more like a plea. The both of you search each other's shared gaze, unable to recognize the exact emotions you seek are in plain sight. 

Soonyoung frowns. "You aren't going to lose me over this."

"You don't understand."

"You haven't been upfront with anything if I'm being honest so, yeah. I don't."

"I'm — I'm sorry — "

"Don't be," he assures you with a wave of his hand and comes closer, "I get that it's new, scary, and gonna take time. I'm not expecting anything nor am I gonna leave when it's over, okay? Just want us to enjoy ourselves." His soft approach — the clumsy steadiness of the man you know and love — only makes your heart melt devastatingly so. "I promise this is gonna be great."

"It… it will be. I trust you."

He beams at you, holding out his hand. "Why don't we shower together then?"

"What?" Your body jolts, not at the coldness of the phone you had a death grip on falling onto your thighs but at the shock of his words. "Why?"

"To make up for the time we could've had during the communal shower incident?"

"Ugh, omigod, you perv…I should've known way back then."

Soonyoung wiggles his eyebrows and fingers enticingly. "How about just getting comfy and calming the nerves a bit? No cameras, no viewers, no one else — no pressures. Just us. Whatcha think?"

"No funny tricks," you warn but take his offered hand and stand up. It's horrible how the idea is enough to make your body thrum in anticipation.

"'course not, wouldn't dream of it, babe."

Despite the growing trepidation, neither one of you is eager to move too fast and disturb the careful equilibrium established. 

Once he's secured your hand in his, Soonyoung leads you toward the bathroom but pauses right outside the door. You peer at him curiously — thinking he's chickened out — but he simply winks, apologizing that he needs the bag left by his workout equipment.

"You little shit, you had this all planned, didn't you?"

"No, but I brought a few things in the hopes you'd at least let me stay over again. You see, Jihoon was planning a big romantic dinner tonight."

"Aw, was he? That's cute. Can you grab my stuff too? I'll… meet you in the shower in a few… gotta run to my room real quick."

"'kay, but you better not run from me," he whispers in your ear and delivers a playful slap on your ass before leaving.

Your legs wobble. Weird excitement mixes with the butterflies in your gut and then you're dashing off into your bedroom to glare at the flustered expression reflected in your vanity's mirror. Sorting through and tossing around various panties, undergarments, and casual clothing only to huff at yourself because what does it matter what you wear to the shower? 

Damn you, Soonyoung.

Patting at super flushed, hot cheeks causes you to unzip your hoodie and throw it in the hamper. Left wearing only a sports bra, the urge to waste time and calm yourself by staring at the glowing, rotating stars on the ceiling is strong. Instead, you crouch down on the floor to give yourself one final pep talk for mental fortitude and then head back to join said man in the bathroom.

So caught up in trying to steel your nerves, you don't realize how long it took him to get the bags. Nor the flush coloring his neck a scarlet red and even spreading across his shoulders after he dropped yours off in front of the closed bedroom door, having accidentally caught a glimpse inside one of them.

Yes, the unmarked plastic Limbo bag that had been left in your car due to the events that happened after. You had brought it in today and although he'd picked it up without a second thought, he had seen a particular item that left his head spinning. You are none the wiser — forgetting all about it already again because of everything.

Soonyoung's already stripped and turned the shower on, intently watching the stream of water like it's the most interesting thing he's seen all day. You're grateful, though. 

Although a bra and booty shorts are by far not the most revealing thing you've worn or that your best friend's seen, you feel bare before you're even naked. Quickly discarding them, you wait for his next move, shifting on your feet. Both bashful and antsy.

"You ready?" The soft way he calls your name has your stomach doing somersaults. 

"Yeah."

"C'mere, then." Brown eyes crinkle to match his smile at the way you shyly sidle up next to him. "Don't know if the water temp is good for you."

"It's fine."

"After you, then."

You snort at the so-called gentlemanly nature, stepping inside while Soonyoung fidgets. It's funny because he's never failed to ogle you before with clothes on. But now he's unsure where to even look, choosing to focus on the water flowing past your painted toes and down the drain.

"You coming?"

"Yeah, uh…" He asks himself why he was doing this despite knowing the answer. "Um, nice shower."

You play along as if he's never been inside the bathroom before. "It is a nice bonus considering the rent. Big enough for two people to stand inside and not… touch."

Soonyoung's back is pressed straight up against the shower wall, clinging to it like mold and using it as a lifeline. There definitely seems to be enough space between your two bodies but he would rather slip on soap than move his eyes off the chipped caulking he's focused on right now. Speaking of soap, his singular brain cell lights up for a moment and he grabs the shampoo bottle that's thankfully to the right rather than behind either of you. 

"You wanna wash my hair for me?"

"What did you do to it? Obviously, it wasn't bleached if you're getting it wet. And it doesn't look much different."

"Chan helped me lighten it. With apple cider vinegar."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah." 

Another mistake. Not his hair. But asking you to wash it. Especially when you tell him to duck his head to his chest so you can lather it up properly. Though your nails feel great against his scalp, he squeezes his eyes shut — afraid to look again. Even after straightening up and you're rinsing out the suds.

"I thought we were doing this to ease up the nerves but why do you look ten times more uncomfortable?"

"… I'm trying really, really, really hard not to be a creep right now."

You have to laugh. Endeared and amazed, you tap at his hands which have curled into tight fists to try and get him to relax. "Don't you want to look?"

One eye opens to squint at you, a strangled groan escaping his throat. "The goal was to get you more comfortable with me. Not the other way around?"

"But it looks like you're having a harder time." The not-so-subtle innuendo has him groaning again, running a distressed hand through his wet locks. You're having zero difficulties checking him out, undoubtedly noticing the effect this is having on him. So of course, your ego grows just like his cock. "Do you wanna touch me, Soonie?"

"I… I…"

It's your turn to reach for the shelf of toiletries, the snap of the body wash's lid opening causes a shiver to run down Soonyoung's spine and his nostrils flare at the familiar scent. He's helpless to your sweet, seductive tone and lets you lift up his hand, squeezing a generous amount from the bottle onto it.

"You can get me all nice, clean, and pretty for our stream, yeah?" 

Which is a lie — you're not looking to get clean, necessarily. The hot water and occasional soap suds are enough to wash away the sweat and grime from both of your workouts. An actual scrub could come later. 

After the festivities. 

"Don't waste my expensive products," you teasingly beg and bat your damp eyelashes at him before turning around. How the tables have turned. "Please?"

He swears under his breath, muttering, "This is all your fault," (a lie) before running his hands along your shoulders to spread the cool gel. Circular motions bring them down closer and closer before cautiously, but eagerly, cupping at the underside of your breasts.

"Knew you always had a thing for them," you giggle.

"Can you blame me?" Soonyoung bites back and starts to knead at them the same way he's done to other parts of your body without this kind of intent. "They're fucking gorgeous. Can't believe I finally get to touch them."

Your sigh comes out more like an airy moan, leaning back against his firm body. Two and two click together. "So these are your favorite parts of my body, huh? You've been talking to your juniors about my tits?"

"No way!" he assures you, "It's true that your eyes are beautiful as well but I can talk about how pretty you are…. you know, as a person."

"I don't even want to know."

"Like… you know!" 

"No?"

"I mean all of them have the hots for you, I'm just making sure none of them make a move because that would be weird."

"Oh please, it's only weird if you make it weird."

"Think about it. If my best friend dates my younger peers and exposes all kinds of embarrassing moments, how am I supposed to hold onto my authoritative position?"

"You expose your stupidity all by yourself as it is and still somehow maintain it. I think you terrify them in so many ways you don't even have to worry."

"I dunno. Whatever, are underclassmen even your type?"

You shrug. "I don't really have a preference but I guess not."

"Good, let's keep it that way."

"You're incorrigible."

"And yet here we are." He points out, noting that his hands groping and squeezing at your chest has to feel good. A little too good, if you're the one being honest. "You still want to stream, right? Like tonight?"

"Mhm, we might as well. Besides, you have your date really soon and — " You yelp at the sudden pinch and tug at your nipples, lurching forward.

Soonyoung follows your body's motion, ensuring you won't slip or hit your head. You can feel the hot press of his cock laying heavy against your back, bodies melding together as he rises back to his full height and brings you up with him. He doesn't move away, one hand brushing across your stomach while the other soothes the harshness just enacted upon your breasts.

"Do you think you can handle one sweet orgasm for me? Before we put on a show? Please?"

"Wha — Soonyoung?" you splutter out, brain trying to catch up and process the change of his demeanor. 

His mouth is on your skin, not quite kissing and not quite biting or sucking. Just lips pressing along your neck with an occasional prod of his tongue that licks up water droplets as he pleads for permission. Followed by a slight grind of his hips that steals away your breath, his heavy cock swirling against the curve of your ass, its heat matching the heat building up in your abdomen.

"Just my fingers, baby. There's no way I'd have trouble getting hard again but I need… no, want to stretch you out first. Please."

Breathless laughter bubbles in your chest at his desperation. And of course, you find yourself equally as turned on — easily able to distinguish between the hot shower water versus the release of arousal that bursts from your gut and trickles out to coat your sensitive folds.

You tell him "okay," and then he's goddamn thanking you. Already panting. Would get on his knees if he could but it's too risky, even though he reaches behind and shuts off the water that's rinsed away all of the unnecessary suds. Now, Soonyoung can resort to using his fingers to explore where he hopes his mouth and eyes can later.

Prodding at the crease of your thigh, he mumbles more to himself, "Is this where it's at?", causing you to grimace. Not knowing he's referring to your tiger lily tattoo. 

"Thought you were a sex maniac? But you don't know how to finger someone?" Maybe Junhui was right. "I should've bought you a guide or something, my bad."

He scoffs. "A little mouthy, aren't we? Not that I was expecting anything less. Saw you bought some fun sex toys, babe and I assure you — I know how to use them and find my way around a body."

"We might use them in ways you can't imagine," you gripe and he silences you with a bold swipe of his fingers against the smooth folds of your cunt.

"You're shaking in my arms already and you don't think I know what I'm doing." He doesn't speed up his pace or make further movements, content to tease. Though his lips turn downward when you clasp a hand over your mouth. "Going quiet on me before I've even started?"

"I'm cold," you mumble behind your palm. 

Soonyoung's hand leaves your lower body so he can place it on your elbow instead. Not moving your arm away but it's a tight enough grip that you know he wants to and could if he tried. He feels the bumps covering your skin everywhere he's pressed against and shivers himself.

"Let me warm you up then. But you're going to have to let me hear how it feels or I won't know if I'm doing a good job." Fingers trail down your side again and you relent, tentatively dropping your arm down and letting out a soft, wobbly moan at his tickling motions. "And I very much like knowing that I am."

You can feel his smile against your neck. He can't help but be fond of such cute shyness that you don't normally exhibit around him but even that's not enough to feed the ravenous tiger. Soonyoung understands though, aware of some of the differences between sexual acts for a camera audience versus doing it with another person.

Especially if it's him. Not that he's actually aware of that fact.

"Words, gorgeous." But the man still desires to ask, intent on getting you to actually say something, breathy and sweet all for him — and him alone. Hopefully not just an act. Besides, he knows how mouthy you actually are whether there's something in that cute cunt of yours or not.

"Mhm yes, Soonyoungie…"

"Yeah?" He rewards you with a return to your damp folds, gently brushing back and forth to get his fingers thoroughly coated with arousal. "Tell me what I should do, what you like. Wanna hear it all from those pretty lips of yours."

"Hm, want… want your fingers."

"Where?"

"In… inside."

"Huh, inside… here?" A finger slowly eases its way into your warmth. "In this lovely little pussy of yours?"

Your reaction is incredible, arching your lower back to press even closer to him, wedging his cock between your ass cheeks, and throwing your head back. A louder moan echoes in the shower. One that glimmers with more confidence. 

You're no longer cold, sure the water droplets glistening on your skin are sizzling now and evaporating from the feral heat rushing through your body. And it is absolutely everything to Soonyoung. Almost.

"How many? How deep?"

Despite having shorter fingers, they make up for the lack of length with thickness and technique. You can clearly feel by the one alone that he obviously knows how to utilize as it explores the spongy walls of your cunt. Your moan turns into a whiny huff as he stills his digit and your foggy mind finally registers you need to answer.

"Two, please. Not… not too deep."

"'course, baby. Whatever you want. I know you can take more but I'll be gentle." He nips at your ear as he slides his ring finger next to his middle one inside, teeth bared hungrily at the filthy squelch. Pointer finger soothingly pets one side on the outer lip of your pussy that snugly wraps around him, tiny tremors of its nerves fluttering across it. "Anything for you."

He continues to mumble, stuff along the lines of "only for you" and "never do a thing to ever hurt you". But it's drowned out by the blood roaring in your ears, melting against Soonyoung's body, and attempting to keep standing. It doesn't matter too much, his strong grip ensures you won't fall — it'd be a waste of such a rigorous arm workout if he couldn't even brace and support you while he finally gets to stroke your velvety walls like he's fantasized about.

Or maybe that's fueling his strength alone. It's startling, how fast you rush toward that peak. The sensitivity of someone — him — touching you for the first time in years, the smell of your scent on him… everything in that moment, within the intimacy of your shower, is just you and Soonyoung.

It's intimate. Much too intimate. 

Emotions collide and crash, causing an intense ache that leaves you in a fragile state of vulnerability, stealing your breath with a sharp gasp. Paired with the slow, concentrated strokes of his fingers that are intent on helping you reach that peak, you have no choice but to follow along. 

Embarrassingly climbing up the hill and hurtling to your climax at a raging speed, like a roller coaster that races downwards off-track. And like its unfortunate passengers, you scream — albeit silently, the pleasure so mind-numbing that it steals away every single one of your functions. 

It satisfies Soonyoung though. The lack of noise from your mouth lets him appreciatively hear the accompanying squelch of your darling cunt pulsating around his fingers. Gummy walls squeeze his fingers in rippling waves that make his cock ache. You tremble in his arm and he feels hella pleased, content to support your shaking frame until he realizes you're sobbing.

Mush. Your brain, your body, your heart. It feels so so, so good it almost oddly hurts so, so, so bad.

Your best friend is quick to wipe your cheek tenderly, brushing away the trickling tears with his cleaner hand. "Hey, you okay? You still with me?"

It's hard to trust yourself to speak, the lump in your throat is too big to allow for speech anyways. Instead, you nod at him through bleary eyes, waiting for the roar to fade from your ears. Soonyoung scans your face repeatedly, worry knitting his eyebrows.

"Baby," he whispers, pet names slipping out without thought, and pulls down the fluffy towel on the nearby hook to drape over your shoulders. "Talk to me. Too much? I'm so sorry… gosh, I really am sorry, love."

Regret immediately eats at him. Regret at what, he's not quite sure. But like a stone is crushing his chest, he watches you attempt to talk to him — to actually assure him that you are okay — but your body refuses to cooperate in its hypersensitive state, stuck heaving dry sobs. So, you timidly open your arms, asking for a hug and he steps in to embrace you without a moment's hesitation.

Although it's like he's touching glass, afraid you'll break with one wrong touch so he's extraordinarily gentle. Your head buries into the crook of his neck. Toweled arms wrap around him, luckily sharing a bit of warmth and dryness. Breathing in his comforting scent that lingers beneath your shampoo, and the supportive strength of defined, moist skin pressed against yours. Both of your hearts beating rapidly off-sync starts to ease the shaking in your body. 

Every swallow you hear and feel from his throat continues to bring you back down to a calmer wavelength. Unsure of how much time passes until you no longer feel like you're a balloon floating away in the stratosphere. But once you finally come down and feel a sense of stability, you lift your head.

Soonyoung's quick to crank his neck just for the tiniest glimpse to gauge how you're doing when there's zero indication of you releasing him from your embrace. In fact, your arms might tighten even harder around his torso. A thumb reaches up to cradle the side of your cheek he can reach, swiping tenderly at the salty dampness.

"I'm sorry." It's your turn to croak out an apology and he frowns.

"Why are you apologizing? It's me who should be — "

"No, it's not you! Well, not exactly. Forgot how it feels to be touched by someone else and it's just… a little overwhelming. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Wasn't scared but definitely worried I took it too far. I didn't want or mean to."

"You didn't," you assure him, hands wrapped in the bath towel running up and down his lean back. "I'm fine. It felt… good. Really good. Probably too good. Guess you weren't lying about your skills."

Embarrassed laughter is muffled by burying your head back into the space between his neck and shoulder, a slight nuzzle against his warm skin. Refusing to look into your best friend's brown eyes yet upon the recollection that he'd just had his fingers deep inside of you, bringing you to a pleasurable precipice that you think is the best you've ever experienced.

"Ah."

When that's all he simply says, you have to lean away, honestly a little puzzled. Now it's his turn — once again — to not meet your eyes. A pretty flush illuminates round cheeks that are only emphasized more by the shockingly bashful smile growing on his lips.

"'Ah'?" you repeat in surprise. "I thought you'd be all… cocky and proud. Y'know, like earlier."

His hands rub up and down your arms, unintentionally but successfully finishing drying you off. "Hey, don't get me wrong. I am proud, it's not every day a man gets his pretty bestie to cum like that."

"I am pretty, aren't I?" 

"Yeah, you are." He confirms that by resolutely meeting your gaze and the moment stretches on until you blink to shatter it. "Don't like making you cry though."

"Really? That doesn't seem like your normal MO, Mr. 'I get told off for having too high of a sex drive'!"

"Well… you're different," Soonyoung huffs at you mimicking his words from days ago, and scratches the back of his head as you step out of the shower. Shamelessly ogling your backside in mild retaliation as if you aren't giving him a free show on purpose when you reach for another towel. It's pointless if you don't see and he's allowed to look. "You know that."

All you do is chuckle and shake your head, humor being your favorite defense mechanism. You don't dare to ask him to elaborate. What do you know? Sure, he treats you differently… because you're his precious friend. Because he —

You focus on his matted hair that kind of makes him look a bit like a drowned rat. Though your affection doesn't dwindle, at least you can focus on the conversation rather than Soonyoung and his undeniable attractiveness that now makes you weak in more ways than one.

"What I know now is that my best friend has a dacryphilia kink."

"Do not!"

"Sure," you say, the word absolutely coated in sarcasm but you don't push it. Instead, you ask, "What about you though? Anyone ever made you cry?"

Soonyoung tongues at his cheek, as he joins you at the sink counter, towel politely covering his modesty like yours. "And now who has a kink for tears? I'm aware of how much you love it when viewers are sobbing for you to squirt for them, all pretty like you do. Bet they wail into their pillows every night because they can never, ever have a chance with you."

"Ha, talking about yourself, Tiger?" Boldly, you run a finger down the crevice formed by his pec muscles, just stopping before you reach his abs. "Didn't someone admit to being a frequent viewer of mine?" Watching as he visibly gulps despite the smirk starting to quirk the corner of his lips up. "Ever shed tears for me, Soonie baby?"

It's a miracle that the poor man is able to remain standing with every single one of his nerves tingling and firing off at your words. His entire being thrums while he wiggles his eyebrows. 

"Wouldn't you like to know," he teases, unsurprisingly finding himself breathless.

"I guess I would. Or… I could just find out for myself."

"Fuck, so those toys I accidentally saw weren't for you, were they?" When all you do is bite your lip to try and hide your grin, he laughs and swears again. Turning away to run another hand through his hair, he looks back at you with an eager sparkle in his eyes. "I should've known, you naughty tigress."

"Are you up to it though?"

"Clearly."

"… I mean mentally, Soonyoung. Want to make sure you're okay with that."

"As okay as you were with what we did in the shower," he affirms, "because I trust you, too. Besides," his gaze lowers to drag across your covered body though you might as well be naked with the hungry way he stares before meeting your eyes again. "That sweet pussy of yours could bring anyone to tears. Hmm, maybe I do have a dacryphilia kink… "

"You think?" With a giggle, you try not to melt at his words. The whiplash of him jumping between hot and goofy still leaves you reeling. "We'll just have to confirm between ourselves, won't we? Let the viewers decide on the consensus."

"I'm all yours, baby." Always have been, rings silently in his mind though you likely fail to receive the message. "No matter how many people are watching or what they're saying, we'll go at your pace."

"Our pace."

"Our pace," Soonyoung repeats affirmatively and holds out his hand.

You clasp onto it like an anchor, an unspoken deal mutually accepted by the action. And then you're using it as a way to pull him out of the bathroom, eager to share with him all the ideas you've brainstormed for tonight's livestream.

This was it.

Your camming setup was in its desired location after making Soonyoung sit in various positions on the bed while you adjusted the angle for the best view. Then you turned everything off with strict instructions for the technology-inept man to not touch anything while you were gone and he lazily reclined on your bed to wait. 

He agreed just as amicably as he had after patiently listening to you stutter when finally discussing what you both felt comfortable doing on-cam. Winking lecherously as you leave the bedroom with his arms propped up behind his head causes his upper body to automatically flex. You'd probably seen more of his muscles today than you ever did over the couple of years of knowing him, the man only donning — startlingly normal-colored — boxers and various silver earrings dotting his ears.

"No tiger print?" you had asked, half teasing, half shocked.

"C'mon, it wasn't like I was that prepared. Besides, what's it matter when we'll be naked soon?"

And now you stand back in your bathroom with a cross look. Twisting and turning in different directions to assess your appearance in the vanity mirror. 

Seokmin's girlfriend has never done you dirty. In fact, she just seems to get better at buying things that not only flatter you but stuff you actually enjoy and feel comfortable with or in. And clearly, with this set… frankly, you think she's hit the nail on the head. But Soonyoung's casual words about getting naked eat at the normal self-esteem boost you would expect to be instilled by the beautiful lingerie.

It's simple and classy. Delicate yet sexy. Still, you don't feel as confident as you'd like to. 

But then you jump at the loud drawl of your name followed by, "If you don't come out here soon I'm gonna start touching stuff!" A beat of silence. "Hm, I wonder what this button does…?"

"Hey, you'd better not!"

"You're right, I'd rather be touching you! So get your cute butt over here before I count to three, ahem, one… "

"And I thought it was me who was supposed to be the one counting," you call back and roll your eyes. 

"Two… "

"Omigod! I'm coming, you beast of a man!"

"Yeah, that's what I want you to be say — oh, damn… oh wow… "

You barge back in and Soonyoung hasn't moved, still lying on his back and yelling on your bed like a child throwing a temper tantrum. But he turns to look when he hears you approach only to do a full-body jerk at the sight. 

Because his traitorous eyes are immediately drawn to the large but darling satin bow tied below a flattering display of cleavage created from the two matching pieces of fabric pulled comfortably snug around your breasts. Licking his lips subconsciously as his gaze follows the line of your body to the two additional bows adorning each of your hips and keeping the material of your panties on with one simple knot tied in each one. 

The man is mumbling all kinds of stuff you can't really make out as he sits up besides, "Oh my god," and probably something along the lines of "holy mother of —," and then curses. Suddenly your insecurity flares back up and you recoil instinctively to cover yourself even though he's already seen you naked.

"Wait, wait… don't hide from me…! No, no c'mere, baby. Please," his voice actually cracks as he begs and reaches out his hands, "let me see you… all of you."

And how can you resist when Soonyoung looks at you like that, glassy-eyed and tender? You go to him with timid steps until you're close enough to feel his body heat once more. 

"Sweet thing." Strong arms wrap around your thighs, hands gently laying against the back of them as he nuzzles tenderly around your stomach with his nose. "How are you gonna order me around when you get all shy on me like this?"

Your hands flutter at your side, twitching unsurely before they dare to settle on him — one plays with the tip of his ear free from piercings, and the other scratches his scalp with your nails right above his forehead. And Soonyoung practically purrs in contentment, strangely putting you back at ease. 

"Oh, you'll be surprised at what I can do."

He chuckles. "I always am. You're so beautiful and gorgeous, there's no reason to hide, okay? Never forget that. You still feeling alright?"

"Actually, yeah I'm… good. What about you?"

"Couldn't be better. Except my dick feels a bit numb as fuck but that's okay." When you snort, he smiles against your skin. "I'll manage."

"I'll take care of y — it soon, I promise."

He groans. "Might actually bust a nut at this point."

"Dear lord, Soonyoung… "

"Just kidding. Mostly." Backing away to get a better look at you again, his eyebrows crinkled. "You know I have excellent stamina and control. I'm as cool as a cucumber right now."

"Yeah, okay. Whatever."

"But you do look good enough to eat, goddamnit." Fingertips dare to caress the free end of the ribbon hanging from the knot tying your bra together. "This is new."

"Are you keeping track of the lingerie sets I wear?"

"Mhm… vaguely?"

You roll your eyes. "Yes, it's new."

"Thought so 'cause you've never worn dark green before but damn, do you look good." 

Soonyoung wiggles his eyebrows and you flick him gently on the forehead before turning around at his command. A low whistle and awakening twitch in his boxers at the satin that thins at the back, showing off the round perkiness of your ass. 

It's true that your normal colors are orange, black, or a combo. But the dark green material looks amazing against your skin, is fresh and new, and unsurprisingly — he finds himself hella down bad, noticing the way it also draws out the colors of your tiger lily tattoo that he's never really paid attention to before, when you've completed your 360-spin to face him again.

God, you're a vision.

"Hot, sexy, perfect… buy it for me to unwrap you, babe?"

You glance at the bows with a pout. "A friend bought them for me but I guess it makes sense, doing it with someone else is definitely more exciting with these."

"You said a friend?" Of course, that's the only thing he acknowledges even if he's indeed dying to undo all of the ties right away.

"Yes, Soonyoung. Again, I have friends besides you." 

"One that buys you lingerie?"

"Last time I checked, you weren't."

"Then I'll amend that problem."

"No thanks," you wave him off as you head over to your camming setup to start. "I get enough stuff as it is."

"I guess I should have my kittens gift me things." A hint of satisfaction fills his chest at the downward tilt of your lips when you turn back to the setup. But a pang overrides it because he can guess why you're really grimacing. "Since it's so worth it and all."

"Don't get all salty, I'll help you find a safe place to receive things if you want." You glance over only to find his arms crossed and a frown set on his face. "What's wrong? Did your cock fall off? Do I have to drive you to the hospital?!"

"No."

You're puzzled. "Then are you good to go or…?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine," he huffs, "sorry, got in my head a little."

"We can wait."

"No, it's all good. Let's get this show on the road."

"Alright… " 

You hesitate for a minute or so before decisively starting the livestream, the telltale red blinking dot starting after the countdown. Though your next words make Soonyoung feel like somebody dumped an ice-cold bucket of water over him, a cruel jerk back to the reality you'd both created. And maybe you just doused yourself with it too.

"Let's finally just get this thing over with."

TigerLily_61596 is now live… with a special guest!

The air has definitely suddenly shifted and both of you need to dial it in and dull it out. Whatever it may be. Because you've got an audience to perform for.

Luckily, it's easier than expected. The brief silence as you wait for viewers to tune in ends up permeating a blanket of calmness. The view count rises fast, everyone's excited anticipation is so palpable that it's starting to rouse in your body as well.

"Horang-HEY… " Soonyoung murmurs the infamous tagline while using his phone to monitor the chat. He's pleased to recognize many of the joining screen names consist of his regulars. "Yeah it's me, Hoshi AKA 0riginaltiger69. He/him pronouns, if you please."

He continues reading with a dubious adjustment to his covered crotch. "Ah, wooluv, kitten! No tigerprint…? Yeah, things are gonna be a bit different tonight anyways. Yeah, good to see you too. Miss me? Aw, missed my rowdy lil pussycats."

kingh0ng: im early for once but there's some just random dude talking abt his underwear?????

kingh0ng: and CATS????????????????? NOT PUSSIES???

NewUser4950: it's gonna be a collab

horny49yu: it's a good day to be a bisexual >>>

sugacub3s: and a furry apparently 🤨

"Hey now, no kink-shaming is welcome here."

While he starts an easygoing back-and-forth about whether or not kink-shaming could classify as a kink itself, you re-approach where he's seated on the edge of the bed. Fingers press into the firm muscles of his deltoids after you crawl to sit behind him and he sucks in a sharp breath.

kitkat69: 🤤 mama has finally arrived 

"Hi kitkat69, darling," you smile in comfort at the familiar user while peeking over Soonyoung's shoulder, a hand creeping over to brush above his pectoral muscle. 

NewUser3939: what are you okay with us calling u?

"Yeah, if you're new here… I don't care how you address me, I'm fine with anything. The regulars call me Mama, Tigress… all sorts. Spoiler alert though, I'm probably not the one you're going to want to be calling names tonight."

hoshis_d1ck: oh damn???? 🫦

wooluv: 😢 im so jealous 

You dare to tweak at the man's corresponding nipple. He grunts and leans forward into the camera, bare upper body hiding from the lens the way your lips purse at his actions. 

"'kay kittens, I hope you enjoy what we have prepared so get all comfy while the tigers set up their playpen." 

Once he moves to situate himself in front of the pillows piled by the headboard, you're quick to turn and kneel between his thighs. Dutifully showing off an enticing backside perched prettily on the back of your heels and the black leather strap draped over one of your legs hinting at what's in your hand.

s0turned0n: leash?! ummmmmmmm 👅

AnonymousUser4442: toys…….. oh- 🙃 😵‍💫 🥴

newuserjk: even between the 2 of them? yuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

deathbyd1cks: you look great in that set babe~ 😍 💦

crazy4w00: too true 😳

m3rs: HOT

"You're so cringey." Your whisper is just loud enough so only he can hear.

"And? They love it."

woolove: why can't that be me 😩😩😩😩

cumdaywh0ring: 😔 same here but which 1

horny49yu: again a great day to be a bisexual!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Soonyoung's still reading the comments and you huff. "You're supposed to be paying attention."

"I am."

"To me," you clarify and take the phone out of the man's rather loose grip. Placing it on the nightstand, your covered breasts softly press against his firm ones and another quiet grunt escapes his mouth.

He's still not looking directly at you even as you loop your arms over his shoulders to put the collar around his neck. Bravely, you place what could almost be considered a kiss — featherlight — to the rapidly pulsating vein, raised and visible on his neck due to an extremely tensed jaw. 

A whisper of "Soonie," in his ear and you feel the tiny hairs on the nape of his neck rise despite how the flesh beneath the pads of your fingers burns. "Relax for me," you continue in a low, seductive tone and then fasten the collar with a resounding click. 

deathbyd1cks: 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 everyone shut up they r having a moment 

NewUser1920: feeling inherently single! ✌️

crazy4w00: may be the point lololol

wooluv: 🥲

Leaning back to assess how good he looks with the black leather stretching around the honeyed skin of his throat, the defiant spark that smolders inside of a swift glare before he's glancing away ignites something within you. Maybe he's doing this on purpose. Egging you on to deliberately provoke what happens next in the hasty script you're both choosing to act out, weird feelings be damned.

It helps. 

Hesitation is nonexistent when your hand runs along his sharp jawline until it reaches his bottom lip, pulling it downwards with your thumb. Two fingers slip inside Soonyoung's mouth and push down on his tongue, encouraging him to open wider which he readily obliges. Your other hand sneaks into his boxers, just barely grazing the head of the growing bulge confined in them, and decisively pulling out the second surprise toy of tonight's show.

kitkat69: jsfkdjafkjfkJDKJdfjjdf

cherry_scouper95: 😏😏😏 my colors ayo ❤️ 🖤

8starfucks: this fucks 1000/10

4ngelic_m3nace: me n who ME AND WHO??????

The red sphere of the ball gag is filled with holes but the solid surface molding the circular shape lays sticky between your fingers. Holding it enticingly between your own teeth, you can't help but stick your tongue out and let out a tiny moan at the salty excess purposefully left behind by his neglected, leaking shaft.

You're not sure when Soonyoung placed his hands on your sides but he kneads the bare skin with usual familiarity, squeezing just a bit rougher after the sound you made. Before you dare let yourself wander too far off track, you lean in close. An accelerated heartbeat mixed with ridiculous flutters can be felt in your chest, your stomach, and even between your legs. So traitorous that you would grit your jaw in irritation if you could.

Instead, you tilt your head, raise up onto only your knees, and place your arms around his neck again, this time for support. Using a skilled tongue — while continuing to tease yourself with the taste of his precum — to nudge the ball into his awaiting mouth. Lips dangerously brush together and you're surprised he doesn't flinch away.

"No kissing."

"Okay."

"Not gonna question why?"

There's no need to because you respect his boundaries as he does yours. But as familiar as he is with your idiosyncrasies, you also realize Soonyoung is pushing the matter because he wants you to ask. 

"No one gets to kiss your virgin lips, I know."

"Wha — "

"That's what your drunk self — that kisses people very often — told me once."

"Oh, hm…"

"Don't worry, I get it. You should save kissing for someone special. Like maybe Yuna."

"Huh… I guess?" He shrugs noncommittally. In a way, you almost feel bad for the girl he's going on a date with. In fact, that's why you're trying so hard to protect your own heart, dare it get treated so flippantly like this.

"Besides, there's no reason for any kisses."

Not unless it's you, think two dumbass minds.

And maybe you linger a little longer than necessary or needed during the brush of lips that's clearly not a kiss. Surely Soonyoung doesn't lean in a little further, pressing up closer against your entire body. Perhaps it's simply your imagination when his hands move behind your back as if he would never let you move away from him again.

deathbyd1cks: 🍿 😎

Anonymous33001: i feel like i'm intruding on smth v personal 😭

jejusb00s: it's called intimacy 🤌  a connection

s0turned0n: sad lonely n horny

But you do distance yourself. You have to. 

Once the ball is lodged in his mouth, you drop your arms down, guide his hands onto the bed, and lean to the side to secure the strap of the gag behind his head. He's a vision and you know it. 

He probably knows it too.

Loose bangs are pushed up off his forehead that glistens in the low light of the room. Sweat also shines between the peaks of his tiddies and valleys of abs that flex and unflex with uneven breathing. Saliva starts to pool past his reddening lips. A hazy look in his eyes that has to be mirrored within your own. There's no other choice but to be proud of such a masterpiece — him.

You also can't help but show a cheeky smirk to the viewers when you turn around. Seating your ass right on top of Soonyoung's large bulge like it's no big deal that the moist wetness soaking the satin covering your cunt blends right into the seeping mess of fabric covering him. Bracing yourself with hands set on the two strong thighs below, you start a lazy grind of your hips that have you biting your bottom lip coyly when he throws his head back with a series of frustrated groans.

kingh0ng: woooo some action from the fav

Putting on an act, you frown as if hurt. "What do you think I've been doing all this time darlings?"

NewUser9031: not paying attention to us :(

"Aw, I know you need attention too."

The pleasant sound of tips pouring in is satisfying as is but you always have ideas on how to rack them up even more and rile the dirty minds of the viewers. Drive them crazy. Seemingly Soonyoung has the same thought process and acts quickly. Quicker than you can even react.

tigressb00bl0v3r: finally my time to shine!

Deft fingers loosen the bow of your bra causing it to easily slide down your arms. Warm hands palm eagerly at your breasts, kneading and squeezing and squishing them at a much more aggressive rate than in the shower before. 

kingh0ng: now we're talking

cumdaywh0ring: SCREAMING

cumdaywh0ring: creaming

cumdaywh0ring: jerking off

cumdaywh0ring: yEs

tigressb00bl0v3r: i love boobs &lt;3

Soonyoung's harsh yet pleasurable groping means you've stopped moving, the attention to your chest keeping you captive both physically and mentally. So he kindly picks up the initiative, desperate rutting of hips up against your pussy as if he was actually fucking you from below.

The man wishes he could be whispering all sorts of naughty shit in your ear but the ball gag keeps him silent save for the groans and whines coming from his chest and throat. Drool dribbles onto your left shoulder creating a shimmering sheen of saliva for the camera that eventually ends up coating the upper swell of your breast. 

tigressb00bl0v3r: god i wish that were me 😩

dickarawrous420: u and me both 🤝

He goes on long enough for a copious amount of spit to aid his hand in gliding with smoother ease across your skin. Messier. Faster. Harder. The extra slipperiness only makes him apply more pressure to grip and grab at your tit, causing a low moan to build in your throat out of pity for the more neglected one. You feel the rumble of humor in Soonyoung's chest against your back and your brain has to fizzle out the tingles and remind your body to fight against the pleasure you're receiving in order to take back control.

Who's the one holding the leash anyways?

"Stop," you say sternly and place a hand on his forearm, noting the way those muscles twitch in response.

kitkat69: mama using big words now 🫢

sugacub3: seriousness is such a turn on

But the little bastard continues to fondle your other breast without pause so you reach behind, yanking at the band of the collar. He moans. The audacity.

"What did I just say, Hoshi? You know only good boys who listen get rewarded, do you not want yours?" You pretend to wait for a reply. "Oh, that's right you can't talk, so I guess someone else should make that decision. What's the verdict, loves — has he earned his?"

dickarawrous420: absolutely not

wooluv: he's a good boi to ME

h0n3ybun: even good boys need a lesson

deathbyd1cks: punish him! 😈 make him beg bby!!

NewUser88963: tie him up and teach him some manners

8starfucks: touching w/o permission is a BIG 🙅🙅🙅🙅

"Should've kept your hands to yourself, baby boy. Looks like they wanna see you pay for not listening. And honestly, I do too."

You're quick to switch to your original position so you can face him again and Soonyoung isn't afraid nor ashamed to admit to himself that the wild, unhinged look in your eyes is crazy sexy. It's almost enough to make up for the loss of contact with one of his favorite parts of your body. He would have never, ever pictured himself submitting to anyone during sex but it comes quite naturally when it's you. Though a part of him that's not his cock aches, wondering if this is truly all for the camera as usual or what you're really like.

Will he ever know?

Those thoughts are luckily banished quickly when you dictate he put his arms behind his back. He complies, grateful to even have this kind of opportunity despite the circumstances, and focuses on doing his best to enjoy every moment.

"I'm even going to do you a favor because I like you so much and would hate to punish you more for additional misbehavior."

deathbyd1cks: oh??? 🫢

horny49yu: 🍿 😋

crazy4w00: 😎 this is better than a kdrama

newuserjk: am i the only one who feels like im missing smth???

4ngelic_m3nace: yeah im missing some1 tied up on MY bed 

cherry_scouper95: idk bout yall im just here to get off 😗 ✌️

To be honest, you planned on never touching the hideous handcuffs Junhui gave you even if they were free. For multiple reasons. Banished and stashed away in the very bottom of your dresser drawers, you are quite proud of the substitution you'd chosen to use instead.

Unclipping the leash in case Soonyoung might accidentally choke himself anyways (though he might like that), you loop the leather strap across his wrists and forearms until it's bound tight enough just to remind him it's there if he gets too impatient. It'd be a joke to think that could actually restrain him if he really tried to break free. Still, it's great for theatrics.

All the while, you're murmuring in his ear if he's doing alright even though the establishment of safety words and signals were already made very clear before this all started. Your best friend assuages any worries with an imperceptible nod that only you can feel though he whines audibly over Svthub's steady cash flow notification at your bare chests brushing against one another.

You relieve him (thankfully) by moving away (sadly) and deliberately brush against his cock (evilly) with your knee when you sit yourself prettily on his thigh. His eyes roll back instantly, hips stuttering at the teasing action as well as the spongy material of your panties saturating his bare thigh.

He huffs wetly, chin and throat, inside and outside, coated with drool. Incoherent noises, a mixture of whimpers and words he's trying to say, grow louder in desperation when you start grinding with no mercy, riding his thigh at an unforgiving pace that's wildly fast. Your hands grip at the covers behind you for support as you thrust your hips towards him and then away, knee inching closer to once again nudge his hardness with your motions. Messy cunt oozing so much arousal, the viewers don't have to listen too hard to hear the nasty sound of soiled fabric sliding against skin.

beg4gyu: i debated if i should watch this or not

beg4gyu: i caved,,,,,,, im weak

beg4gyu: i can live w/ this tho

beg4gyu: esp if tigress uses him like a hq dildo 

wooluv: hey!

beg4gyu: hi!

wooluv: (derogatory)

wooluv: sorry it's not my strong suit

beg4gyu: 🤨 um 

beg4gyu: n e wayz glad to see i didn't miss much

Comment wars rage on as usual but you're too occupied to care. It was a hard choice to decide on at first. The ridges of Soonyoung's abs and the insane vein that leads down all the way to the mushroomed tip of his cock surely would have felt divine rubbing between the folds of your pussy. Perhaps that would have to wait until you were unclothed next —

Or just forget about it. There won't be a next time. There can't be. So you must let it leave your mind. 

It's not hard because his thigh wholly takes away any thoughts that even might enter your head, by far surpassing your expectations and dispelling any indication of disappointment. He flexes and releases the muscle just enough so it catches that sweet clit of yours at different points and angles while you slide back and forth. He'd give anything to push his knee up and temptingly stuff your soaked panties a teeny tiny bit inside your hole with a sinful squelch. 

Alas, he fears the repercussions if he tries to do too much. Content with the way your breasts jiggle cutely, wishing you were still wearing the pendant that you came home from the gym in so he could watch it bounce and sparkle in time with them.

You're moaning shamelessly now, mouth set in a gorgeous "O" and cute moans, almost squeals, coming out as you ride his thigh with even more vigor. Soonyoung hopes — prays — that you'll cum. Nearly cracking the ball gag with how hard his mouth squeezes around it in anticipation. 

The minute that thought resonates in his head, your body seizes up. Lower body shakes and shudders, lifting upwards… up, up, and up… enough for him to spy a hint of the dark green satin color turned black where it's wedged in between the puffy, soppy lips of your cunt that spasms slightly around the ruined fabric.

His eyes threaten to roll up out of pure delirium but he can't bear to look away and miss this moment.

Oh god, and then when you somehow have the wherewithal to move off of his thigh to engage with the hungry viewers that adore watching you come undone (who doesn't?), he just about faints. You even have the gall to wink at him over your shoulder and bet how many orgasms he can give you. He can't bother to try and pay attention as you continue to praise him in front of everyone watching just to egg on the comments and the long, blazing bling of money pouring in. 

Something itches at him. Soonyoung's well aware of the incredible amounts of arousal you're able to conjure with some lube helping you play with during your streams but he's floored. He could definitely feel the wet mess you were making on him. And then to see it. Slathered all over and across like he'd been oiled, it strikes a pleasant possessiveness as if you staked your claim on him. He watches star-eyed at the tiny quivers in your legs while you try and regain your breath.

Down bad, the poor man is. You'd be the death of him.

wooluv: i might have to accept i will never be as cool as tigress

wooluv: or as hot

"Aw that's not true, wooluv baby!"

h0n3ybun: believe in urself luv!!

wooluv: 😭 💔

"Seriously. Oh and hello, beg4gyu! Missed you."

beg4gyu: 😳 ME?????

"Yes, you silly. You were fighting with Hoshi during my last stream!"

beg4gyu: i was?

"He was under a different screen name but yes, it was so funny."

beg4gyu: yeah i mean i was and i was totally winning

You snort, shaking your head to hide your eye roll. "If you say so!"

beg4gyu: also… important -

deathbyd1cks: 🥱🥱🥱🥱🥱

crazy4w00: 😴😴😴😴😴😴

horny49yu: 😪😪😪😪 

beg4gyu: what's w/ all the haterz???

beg4gyu: this is a judgment free zone

beg4gyu: N E WAYZ why is he called 0rginaltiger if he's 69th 🤔🤔🤔

That makes you laugh and turn back to Soonyoung with a devious smirk, hand brushing against his bulging cheek. "Wanna tell 'em, tiger boy?"

It's a mocking tone you use, the ball gag still in his mouth obviously preventing the man from uttering anything except incomprehensible sounds at this point. He's not below begging in whatever way desired — rather be drowning in your arousal than his own saliva — and raises his eyebrows pleadingly. Dancer hips hump up pathetically but oh-so-temptingly, another strangled whine thrown in for good measure and shiny eyes threatening to tear up. 

Of course, you concede to finally taking it and helping with his boxers after removing the leash that's left pretty red streaks across his forearms showing where he strained against the binding. Your hands brush tenderly across the marks, a questioning hum while you wait for him to collect himself to respond.

"Guess we should," Soonyoung eventually chokes out in a raspy voice, "ya know…" a little too eager in the way he reaches for your hips, "demonstrate."

You click your tongue and gently yank on the collar before he can touch. His upper body jerks forward, merely inches from your face, nose brushing against his. 

"I don't remember you having the control here, Hoshi."

"Ah, but don't forget to lemme know if I'm doing a good job like before… "

And with that, you respond by pushing against his chest after the saucy wink and smirk sent your way. Urging your best friend to lay down on his back so you can place your knees around his waist, untying one side of your panties with a flourish while he rushes to slide a naughty hand over to assist with the other. Across the room they fly, joining the discarded toys on the floor with the nastiest splat imaginable.

NewUser94594: holy shit! 🫣 💦

dickarawrous420: my god... 👅

deathbyd1cks: 👁️ did sum1 say before? 

deathbydicks: hahaha n e ways — ruined ☑ 

You can't even be bothered to care, all your focus instead on the heat of your bare cunt pressed against Soonyoung's hard abs just as you imagined. He seems to be in a better mood and is finally obeying. But you don't like the look of the mischievous glint in his eyes when his teeth sink into his bottom lip, feeling what a sopping mess you still are.

He's covered in it. And he hopes for more. 

"You're so fuckin' beautiful," slips out before he can stop it which causes you to click your tongue to cover up the fact you're extremely flattered, cheeks aflame.

"Looks like I'll have to shut you up, huh?"

Twisting around and moving further up his body until your fluttering hole is over his mouth, you see his brow raise questionably.

"Aren't you gonna... ?"

"Work for it," you interrupt with a command and don't wait for his reply before seating yourself against his swollen lips. "Work for it and maybe I'll suck you off as a reward, baby boy."

sugacub3: this is SOOOO unfair

kingh0ng: im abt to unalive 

kingh0ng: i cant keep edging myself like this

kingh0ng: the drs r getting worried

AnonymousUser9999: weak

jejusb00s: concerning

There is zero hesitation in doing as demanded. Obviously. A vigorous tongue swirls to spell out his own name sloppily — s o o n y o u n g — against your sensitive clit, dipping into and all around your quivering pussy with each swipe, prod, and glide as you settle more and more of your weight onto his face. Tiny bites of cold metal from his earrings sting as they dig into your skin and only add to the pleasure. 

The man underneath you growls, absolutely feral in his euphoria, not minding being smothered one bit as your knees practically crush the sides of his skull. He would die a happy man this way. Nodding his head up and down in agreement then back and forth, nose coincidentally brushing against the rim of your asshole. 

You shiver at the sensation. Despite never having done any anal play, it's not that much of a turn-off. Paired with the vibrations from the noises he's making that fires off and alights your nervous system somehow even better than the XXL vibrator gift from Seokmin and his girlfriend, you're on some kind of otherworldly high. And his dick isn't even inside of you yet —

"Hah, he's… gawd, he's so good… at this!"

It's not like you forgot the only plea Sooonyoung asked of you but it's also not hard to fake or hold back the moans and praises that fall easily out of your mouth with his ministrations. Fully sitting back all the way, a treat to the viewers who can get a peek at your occupied lower body atop his shiny chin. Watching his jaw and tongue fervently working in tandem as he continues autographing your pussy. Sitting on his face like you belong there — which you do.

Only because his lungs are screaming for air, not because he's satisfied, is the reason he taps your ankle three times. Honestly, you find it a struggle to lift up and fall forward onto your forearms instead, the rest of your body prone against his. Soonyoung's rendered you weak, especially as he parts from your cunt with a lecherous wet smack like he's just had the messiest make out of the century. 

He kind of has.

You're left with your mouth hanging wide open and panting — though not as hard as he is — a flurry of emotions as your mind can only think of one thing. It's no surprise when drool dribbles out of the corner of your parted lips, perfectly falling onto the angry red cock below you that jumps adorably in shock at the contact.

deathbyd1cks: hehehehehe dick drunk dick drunk dick drunk 🙇

deathbyd1cks: called it! 

deathbyd1cks: 💵💵💵💵💵💵

h0n3ybun: i mean it IS pretty

horny49yu: THICC

newuserkjk: still feel like im missing smth

beg4gyu: its like a 100

beg4gyu: out of 100000000000000000000

wooluv: jealous much?

A wonky, dazed smile and a flutter of eyelashes dampened by tears is sent to the camera. While you might not be reading their comments, you can only imagine how they're eating this shit up. You let more drool accumulate and collect on the center of your tongue (easy with how good you feel and the sight before you), sticking it out so a singular clear strand can drip down from the tip. 

Like a baker drizzles icing on their cake with a spoon, you direct your head in various directions over his length. Eyeing greedily as it twitches agreeably and leaks more precum at the teasing, barely-there warm liquid that instantly cools beginning to coat it.

Whether out of repayment or retaliation, Soonyoung catches his breath and gathers up the moisture in his mouth (that probably consists more of your arousal than saliva), and then spits. Right at the pretty folds of your pussy that are eye-level if he keeps his neck lifted. Hungrily watching through a lidded gaze as it slides between them and mixes in with the sloppy cream that's starting to seep out and threatens to spill onto his chest. 

"This pussy…! Fuck, is it so perfect… totally made f'me."

His voice is choked and raspy. Like hell he'd waste any droplets of yours, vowing for them to only fall on his tongue. Hastily grabbing at your hips, pulling you back onto his mouth, and kneading at the plushness of your asscheeks before delivering a playful and light slap to them — daring you to finally suck him off.

And you do, reverently picking up his thick length with trembling hands. Marveling how it even makes your hands look small around it. Lying hot and heavy in your hold, you can feel the blood raging through its veiny prominence.

Then your lips are suckling at the tip, re-addicted to the salty tang you previewed thanks to the ball gag. Soonyoung lets out a grateful moan of relief and you echo it because of the satisfying taste of him.

horny49yu: actually

horny49yu: bad day to be a bisexual if youre not between them

4ngelic_m3nace: where do i sign up to be a part of this???

beg4gyu: bruh

beg4gyu: not b4 me 😑

deathbyd1cks: is sum1 having their bi awakening?

beg4gyu: no but

beg4gyu: ill do anything for tigress

wooluv: 😳 i think i might

deathbyd1cks: amen to that 🙏

Your best friend's now almost halfway inside your mouth while he's been tongue-deep inside of you in exchange. Granted, Soonyoung is only occasionally flicking your clit now, much lazier thrusts as he tongues and laps around your hole because it would be a lie to say he's not mildly distracted at long last by being enveloped with your warm mouth.

That's perfectly fine though, allowing a clearer mind to pay attention to him instead. Your head bobs up and down in a methodical, slow way until the tip of his shaft slips down your throat. Staying like that for as long as you can without breathing before popping off, proud of yourself for not gagging. 

Practicing with your toys for the past week must've paid off.

(Of course, you would die before you ever admitted that to Soonyoung, and likewise. Because if you asked him if he wanted to hear your gags, the answer is an obvious yes — but admitting it? Over his dead body.) 

You get more comfortable, breasts squishing against his thighs, forearms strewn across his calves so you can fondle at his ballsack while you work him deeper and deeper down your throat each try. Soonyoung mimics you, arms thrown across your lower back as he moans against your pussy. More than pleased when you start an unhurried, inconsistent grind that he happily continues to supply his drenched face for.

You're not even trying to look pretty for the camera, slobbering all over the place like you're devouring one of those ginormous round lollipops, nor did you intend to make such a mess. Who knows if it's precum or saliva dripping down between his balls? But there's so much that you can smear all around and all over like a heathen.

Only adding to all of it by briefly neglecting his cock (hand replacing your mouth to jerk him off because you're nice like that) and giving a love-suckle to each one of them simply because you can't resist with them right there for the taking.

kingh0ng: can it be a concern to cum sm???

cherry_scouper95: dude fr?? need to work on ur stamina

cherry_scouper95: get laid finally or smth

kingh0ng: im not a virgin!

h0n3ybun: no shame if u r

kingh0ng: w/ the amt of times i use my hands to these shows i could be tho 😔 

Soonyoung must be feeling the same way you do if his loud, open-mouthed moan and warm breath ricocheting against your clit are anything to go by. It might just be the hottest thing you've ever experienced, cunt squeezing deathly around his poised tongue that dips in and almost gets trapped. 

He growls, freeing it, and slaps your ass again, soothingly squeezing the sting away. Arms muscles taut as he holds your hips up and away so he doesn't quite literally drown in all of your arousal.

Still, licking his lips and tasting more of your tantalizing essence on them, he desires more.

"Think I can make you squirt?" He also thinks he deserves even more. "With just my tongue? Or… " A finger traces around the soft skin of your pussy lips, admiring the clenching and unclenching hole above him. "My fingers? Think you can do it for me, sweet thing?"

Instead of replying, you simply turn your head to the side so you can meet his dark brown, carnal eyes. Teeth scrape along that devastating vein and nibble on the sensitive skin that connects his pelvis to his cock.

"Watch it," he hisses, "easy, babe."

You whine, batting your eyelashes and mouth first curving downwards as it presses against his lower body before curling upwards in a smirk. "Only ever squirted with a dildo."

Soonyoung eyes your tiger lily tattoo and places an oddly domestic-like smooch to it. "Of course, the brat would challenge me."

"Wasn't — "

You let out the most unflattering squeak as he drops you back down on his mouth, slurping at your cunt again with an addition of a harsh suck. Before you can let him get too carried away, you match his pace.

beg4gyu: am i just a fly on the wall????

beg4gyu: do i even exist here?????

wooluv: 🥲 no 

wooluv: none of us do

deathbyd1cks: baby im not even here im a hallucination 👍

Licking from the base up to the slit that's trembling in your hold as your hand runs up a different vein, this time on the underside of his dick after another teasing squeeze to his balls. Deep-throating with much more ease, swallowing two to three times before coming up for air, and diving back down again. 

Rinse and repeat.

Soonyoung's hand sneaks between your body and his lower lip to fondle at your clit, pinching and pulling like a demon, though gentle in his actual administrations. The lovingly clumsy mannerisms of your best friend before are nowhere to be found in this pussy-drunk beast of a man who aims with precision at all your exact weak spots. Or maybe he was like that all along… 

And that's perfectly fine because damn Seokmin but he was right — you're positively, utterly, completely dick-drunk.

"In love with… in love with this pussy of yours," he rasps out and you mumble nonsense with a full mouth, responding more with the enticing wiggle of your hips. Encouraging him to bring you to that precipice, over it, and more while you return the favor.

deathbyd1cks: 📹 damn almost caught it in 4k

AnonymousUser7021: was there a lag??? did i miss smth??

deathbyd1cks: the confession of the century 😔 ✊

wooluv: HUH?

beg4gyu: HWAT???? THEYRE A THING???

crazy4w00: well not yet…

wooluv: 💔 so there's still hope 🥹

h0n3ybun: cute

cherry_scouper95: cute n all but r we ever gonna finish here??

cherry_scouper95: this dude's stamina…

kingh0ng: now who's weak? 😆 🫵

cherry_scouper95: 🖕

You're almost just as frustrated as cherry_scouper95. A mix of a growl and whine rises in your throat whenever it's granted reprieve in between thrusts, nails scratching and leaving crescent moon marks along his tense, sticky thighs. Because goddamn, even though his cock looks so achingly hard that it could probably stay up straight on its own, growing more difficult to bend it down your throat — he shows barely a hint of nearing that sweet release. You huff, cold air whooshing across his shaft and balls that has him jolting beneath you.

A brain cell lights up.

Sliding down his body, away from his mouth, and ignoring the devastating loss as well as his surprised groan of disappointment. Focusing as it turns to one that is pleasantly breathless in enjoyment when your breasts squish around his length instead. Pornographic moans ring out as the back of his head hits the mattress and shameful cries of "baby, babe, love," fill the air, so loud that the viewers have to lower their volume by a few decibels. 

"Oh, fuck… "

It only takes two slides up and down between your tits before Soonyoung's hips take on a mind of their own without your hands to hold him still. Rutting unapologetically and unforgiving up into the enclosed space, using your chest like it was nothing but a cocksleeve or fleshlight toy. 

You revel in it. 

Appreciating the pathetic grips and grabs at your asscheeks as he fails to ground himself. Sticking out your tongue to meet the pretty pink head that pokes through with each thrust tugging the foreskin back and forth as it rubs against your soft, tender skin.

You're positive he's almost lost control, surely chafing your skin despite the insane amount of wetness. Of course, you don't mind at all and add whatever moisture is left in your mouth so it can drip down your shared bodies, mixing in with the filthy, sopping mess that's probably ruined your bed. 

Soonyoung's intent on that promise, finally gathering hold on some of his wits to raise his head back up. Removing a hand to prop it behind his neck, the other one trails downward, pulling the fat of your ass slightly up. Your lower body presses into his to support the actions of your chest and torso but he's still able to see your empty hole leaking arousal all over the front of his body. 

You're right where he needs you. Wants you.

A digit pushes in to bury inside your cunt that greets the welcome, thick intrusion with a sickening squelch. He starts knuckle-deep out of caution before exploring farther, middle finger (essentially giving the viewers a big "fuck all of you" while inside your pussy) readily seeking out that bundle of nerves to brush against that he found in the shower. Stroking them relentlessly once found by his finger nestled within, and grinning sadistically when you cry out. Clit rubbing against the rough, top indentations of his abs.

"C'mon, baby… soak me. I know this nasty little hole can do it, know you can do it." Soonyoung growls when you feebly garble out his screen name. "That's right… mark me, baby 'n make me yours. Bet they're all crying out for you right now. But you'll do it all for me, just f'me, right?"

A strangled "Yes, Hoshi!" is ripped out of you followed by a wrecked sob as you grope at your nipples out of habit, coincidentally continuing to squeeze and release your tits around his weeping shaft. 

"Together!" you also beg with a scream, pleading for his release as well. The repetitive pulsating of his cock gains more consistency to match the rapid thumping of your heart beating in time against it which thrills you.

"Together," he confirms, "always."

AnonymousUser1205: wow hot damn

beg4gyu: just bc hes right doesnt mean he has to say it

beg4gyu: esp if he gets to be w/tigress >:(

cumdaywh0ring: let's gooooo

cumdaywh0ring: let's fcking gooooooooo

There's an audible hiss heard from both of you as your pussy lips tighten around Sooonyoung's finger, almost cutting off his circulation like a rubber band wound too many times. Cunt suctioning yet pushing him out, trapped as if his digit is a fish caught up in a dam, as you start to gush. Droplets of your essence dribbling down his flexed wrist that attempts to thrust within its limited range to coax you through your climax more.

"That's it, that's a good fuckin' baby," he praises and grunts, white spurts of cum erupting as his own release hits. "My baby. Take it, love. Take all of it 'cause you're mine, aren't you?"

The feeling of his cum hitting your face, tits, and mouth that's open already from moaning like the true star cammer that you are plus his hoarse voice repeating the demanding possession of, "Aren't you?," has you screaming out a confirmative "Yes, baby!". And then you're really gushing, squirting as desired because of his fingers and mouth, harder than you ever thought you could be capable of. Successfully ejecting Soonyoung's digit out in a spray that seems to last an eternity as you seize up and shudder and shake until you can give no more.

Most of it lands on his chest, dousing him and wetting the poor bed. With both of his arms free, he can basically do a light curl-up, tongue sticking out to catch whatever he can like a heathen. His balls empty and empty out across your face until his cock finally plops against your rubbed-raw chest, almost as weary as you are as it starts to soften. 

You may look like a complete and utter mess and wreck. But no one thinks you could look any prettier than you do now in this moment, especially Soonyoung whose muscles protest when he forces himself to move.

kingh0ng: is this heaven or hell

newuserjk: why not… limbo 😼

h0n3ybun: oh?

deathbyd1cks: 😏

newuserjk: $5 off, sale ends in 2 min! 

wooluv: my god… 😓 these ads

kitkat69: imma need 10 business days to recover,,,,

He fumbles a bit, hazy mind struggling to stop the livestream as he hastily thanks everyone for watching. Once it appears to have turned off, he chews on his bottom lip and decides to just power off the whole computer system for good measure.

"Hey." Handing you a water bottle after downing a few sips, he also grabs the towels and wipes from the table you'd prepared beforehand. Laying them down on the upper, cleaner part of the bed and collapsing back on the mattress with a bounce. "You with me, babe?"

Though your eyes are still glassy, you nod. Relief as the water soothes your scratchy throat. "I am, you good?"

"Perfect."

You both know you need to clean up properly before resting but it seems alright for now to just lay there and catch your breath. Soonyoung pulls you into his chest, rubbing circles on your back as a chill sets in — metaphorically and physically — in the sudden eerie silence shared between just the two of you in this room.

"Thank you."

Your best friend giggles. He goddamn giggles. "Was I that good that you're thanking me?"

A beat of silence.

"Honestly, yeah you were. More than good, you were great. With everything. So yeah, thank you."

"No, thank you." It's said with such gratitude, such conviction, and then a kiss is placed on the top of your head. Your heart thuds erratically. "You were perfect. Everything I've ever imagined and more."

"S-Soonyoung? "

"Hm?"

"… Wake me up in ten."

"Okay. But we'll have to wash up after, alright?"

You nod against his chest, shutting your eyes tightly. He inhales deeply, jostling you a bit to reach his phone and set the timer before tossing it onto the bed. Both of you miss when your respective phones light up with new messages.

"Soonyoung?"

"Yeah?"

Despite the way you want to relax and pretend like there's not the looming elephant in the room to face, you have to ask. 

Even if it hurts.

"So… what happens next?"

◇ Find out more in Part 3... cumming soon 😉 (like to charge, reblog to cast)

onlyseokmins: April 2023 ©

[moonknixght]

Jerk [Marc Spector x GN!Reader]

Summary: Despite having plans for a date with you after meeting with his ex-wife, Marc seems to have suddenly gone off communication, leaving you to be a bundle of nerves until you decided to call him. Heavily inspired by episode 3 of scenes from a marriage. Word Count: 2k Warnings: Angst with no comfort !!!!!!!!! foul language, Steven cameo (that's a sweet surprise than a warning), no mention of jake A/N: Gosh! I apologize for being super late with this one,, this was meant to be a drabble but i got carried away lol. And I'm a little rusty with writing atm, so don't look at me if the writing feels a lil wonky. though, Constructive Criticism is greatly appreciated! PS; The ex-wife mentioned in this is NOT layla its some other lady because we love layla in this household

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

The drawn out rings of the phone was slowly aiding to a upcoming migraine as you paced between rooms, silently praying that you would get an answer to your frantic texts. A rather uneventful Friday night that you expected to spend with the person you were recently seeing, an unpredictably mysterious man, had come to an abrupt stop.

There was a lot you didn't know about Marc Spector; and that was okay, because it was just the process of 'getting to know someone' was, right? Sure, You had rambled your head off on the first date, all which he listened carefully; but with Marc, you never felt the need to push information out of him. It was like befriending an fragile animal that takes time to trust, but the epiphany that comes after is unexplainably amazing.

Growing from acquaintances to actually seeing each other and looking forward to spending time as a couple was unrealistic, which was why your entire relationship was so fascinating. The patience of talking things out was a quality that you both shared; likely being the reason of such a bond with each other. If anyone would listen, you would never stop talking about how perplexing that was.

As you both started building a line of trust, You came to learn that he was divorced and was in the process of sorting things out with his ex-lover— which, of course, you were fine with. And today, he had mentioned about her coming over, which you were also on board with. But with the plans that were arranged for today still being overdue and Marc falling off the face of earth, you couldn't help but feel.. jealous? worry, even?

It was exactly why you were frantically texting your boyfriend, questioning on where he was and if his ex-wife had taken her leave. The only response that you received was being left entirely on delivered, adding fuel to your already anxious state. You felt like you were just being extremely clingy— and that they were probably still talking.

Your gaze travelled to the clock. 15 minutes to 1 am. Holy fuck. Had you really been texting him for over an hour? Had it been over two hours since you had set your dinner table, waiting for him? The latest that Marc had promised he would be was by 10:30, so it was just utterly ridiculous that it was past midnight and he was still unresponsive.

Swiftly grabbing the unopened bottle of wine kept on your table and making it to the couch, You set your phone down on the coffee table as you took a swing of the drink. It was crazy how this entire thing had gotten you so riled up, but as much as you hated to admit it, you were head over heels for this guy. So committed infact, that you were desperately checking on him for the past two hours; that you haven't even had your own dinner yet. One last call. Maybe he'll pick up.

That was the words that your guilty conscious prompted while you sat in the uncomfortable silence, eyes falling on the phone that lay discarded on the table. Obviously, you were going to feed into your thoughts. Of course you did.

And much to your surprise, it only took three rings to connect to the voice that you were just waiting to hear— but it didn't take you long to notice that it came off in a growl, much to the contrast of the soft spoken tone that Marc usually carried.

"Marc?" "Hey." You let out a sigh of relief, shaking your head ever so slightly at your own frantic actions. Atleast he was doing okay. "Are you okay? Where have you been? I've been—"

"Good. Uh, yeah, but listen, it's not cool to, like, bombard me with messages."

There was a short pause where you sat slightly bewildered. before you felt yourself sink into the seat, like a child who had just been scolded. Even with guilt creeping up, You wanted to still defend your own case, which was the endless worrying you had endured for the past hour, waiting for anything from Marc. Just a simple notice to cancel their date for the night or even to say that he was okay. But instead, You were simply left in the dark.

"Because you were supposed to call me, Marc."

"I told you, I'd call you when she left." "Oh, so she hasn't gone yet?" "No, She hasn't. She's still here." Sipping from the glass of wine and setting it onto the table nearby, your mind was quick to rush into many conclusions, but you kept your mouth shut. Whatever they had to discuss must have been really important. "Isn't it late? How are you both still talking?" "No, She— She's in bed." An exhale could be heard from the other end, as your brows furrowed. In bed? Marc lived in a single bedroom, so did that mean he was taking the couch? But before you could even question it, it was like the male at the other end had almost read your mind, because he immediately cleared your doubts, Albeit, you would have wished he never said anything. "..My bed." Oh. Feeling betrayed and lost would be an understatement of how you currently felt. Confused even, to some extend as a steady silence began to occupy the call. You weren't quite sure how Marc wanted you to respond to that. Did he want to hear you weep from the other side? Or be upset at him? Maybe even yell a few select choices of words for wasting your time? But instead of any of that, pure silence rang through the call and if it weren't for Marc checking if the call was still running, he would've thought you hung up. "Hello?"

The feeling of being let down was coursing through your veins at this point, making itself obvious with the lump that grew in your throat and how you stiffened up in your seat. You weren't sure what exactly to feel, a floodgate on sadness and anger opening like it was a pent up dam that was released. You sniffled quietly, trying to bite back the tears that were pricking at the corner of your eyes. It was unfair how distraught you felt. Another audible exhale could be heard, before you heard Marc's voice again. You weren't even sure why you felt like crying, but it was clear that this wouldn't end well. "Look, I'm suggesting that we should take a break because this is just not.. Not working out right now." "When did it work out, Marc?" "Wh— What are you talking about?" "I said." You spoke, recollecting yourself in a suspiciously gentle manner. "When were you not trying to use me as a way to move on?"

It was his turn to grow silent, and that was pretty much the answer you needed. To think that you gave him the chance, thinking that maybe this time around you could actually be with someone who cared— There were no other words to describe what you've been this entire time. You were foolish. "Goodnight. Sleep well." You'd be lying if you said that you didn't still want him to come back to you. Justify himself properly. Say that this was all some sick joke. But you were also aware that there was probably nothing that would save this. Still, You stayed when he spoke up again, for whatever reason. "Stop. Just Listen. This doesn't have to be.. what you think it is, I just need time to collect myself and honestly, I've been feeling for a while that—"

The urge to laugh was overbearing, and you didn't hold back. "You're so full of shit, Marc." Anger was finally settling in before the male at the other end could even respond to your words, but this wasn't about being courteous anymore. It felt like if Marc had cared for you even a little, this wouldn't have happened like it did. "Own up to what you're doing, asshole. I know you like to evade your responsibilities but just for once, if you have any respect for me, stand up like a man and say it to my face so I can just accept the fact that I've wasted my time and effort on you."

"Okay, Let me stop you here before you say anything else that you're gonna regret."

"No, fuck you. The only thing I regret is thinking that you actually cared enough to be with me. Turns out, your only concern is keeping yourself occupied and acting like you don't give a shit about everything that leaves you. You're a selfish prick."

"Fine. It's over then."

"Good. Lose my number and Have a good fucking night, Spector." The call was immediately cut, and so was the brightness of the candle that you had lit earlier by the dinner table. The dimness eased your volatile temper, but it bought the dejection and uneasiness that had failed to show up during the call. There was an option for you to cry it all out, but for reason, you didn't. A soft sigh escaped your pursed lips as you rubbed your eyes. Maybe you'd end up bawling your eyes out about this when you were nestled into the cold embrace of your bed.

You didn't even feel hungry anymore; so shoving the pasta that you had cooked hours prior into the fridge and cleaning up, you tried your best not to think of everything that just happened, which was difficult in it's own volition. It was just a few dates, so you were technically the one in the wrong for letting your guard down so easily and falling for a man who barely talked to you. That conclusion stung a little, but it helped you feel better as you picked up your phone and the bottle of wine again— too exhausted to take off the gorgeous outfit you had picked out for the night as you opened tinder; trying to scroll away like you were gonna move on.

—

On the other side, Marc had made the mistake of pacing through his room as he made the call, biting his cheeks as it reached it's abrupt and upsetting end. Guilt did lace his features, but reminding himself that this was the last he would ever hear from you made the circumstances a little less horrible. Glancing at the phone as his thumb hovered over your contact, He heard a meek voice call out to him. Not that of his ex-wife, but that of Steven's— who had seen everything from the reflection of the mirror that Marc found himself standing before. "Marc.." The reflection called out to him, a clearly disappointed expression lacing his features as he tried to find the words to even begin expressing how regrettable this would be. Steven didn't have to elaborate, though, because in the few seconds that Marc met Steven's concerned eyes, he knew this would just add into the contrition that already plagued his mind.

Marc tore himself away from Steven who made a lowly attempt at trying to reason with him; walking back to where he had just been previously. It was because Steven knew, and so did he, that he found what it felt like to be loved again through you. But he was undeserving of it. With everything he has done and all the secrets that he hid, he only deserved the toxic relation he had with his ex, which atleast kept his needs at bay; a fair trade for all the arguments he had with her. You were right about him being a selfish jerk. Though it was for all for the wrong reasons.