#I will write more little!reader if that is what people would like :)

[verdantchan]

Always You

Pairing: Best friend! Bangchan x Afab! Reader

Summary: It’s hard to enjoy a party when your best friend who you’ve been in love with for years turns up with his girlfriend…

Warnings: MDNI, dom!chan, sub!reader, possessive!chan, unprotected sex (don’t be like them) dirty talk, cum eating, multiple orgasms (f!rec) fingering (f!rec) mentions of mastubation, spitting (chan spits on it yk..) tummy bulge, creampie

Wc: 2.7k

a/n: did I write and edit it this in one sitting? yes I did,,, is this also my return to writing fics after 5 years bc I’m so attracted to chan idk what to do?? Also yes 🤪

‘‘Lixieee watch my drink, I nearly dropped it’’ You roll your eyes and smile at Felix as he practically jumps on you. His parties were always rowdy, especially when Jisung wormed his way into the planning. Colourful lights strewn around every pillar and doorway, countless bottles and cheesy red cups littering the granite countertops in the dorm kitchen, the air thick with smoke and the sickly sweet scent of liquor.

Part of you loved how committed the boys were to throwing the most stereotypical frat parties, the perfect way to unwind from the stress of uni life. You scan the room for that all too familiar face but find no sign of him, your shoulders dropping slightly, the disappointment in your chest too strong to ignore.

You and Chan had been best friends since you were 12, your parents pushing you together as an unlikely duo. You'd immediately become inseparable,spending every second with each other. People had always questioned your relationship, everyone thought you must be dating if you were so close, but you and Chan were just friends, at least that's what you convinced yourself it had to be.

You first started having feelings for Chan at 18, you were university freshmen starting the next big chapter of your lives together and you couldn't get him out of your head. His deep brown eyes that sparkled when he spoke about the things he loved, his soft curly black hair that you loved ruffling to annoy him and his dimples that became impossibly deep when he smiled. Being around him was both torture and comfort. Three years later and you were still completely in love with someone who views you as his best friend, nothing more. In other words, you're utterly fucked.

‘’Lix, have you seen Chan tonight? I thought he was coming’’  Felix still clinging to you in his tipsy state. His messy blonde hair slightly covering his eyes and freckle-dotted cheeks, a pink blush dusting his skin thanks to the many drinks he’d already knocked back.

‘’Nah not yet, he said he's coming later after his date’’ he slurs his words a little, all giggly and happy, not knowing the ache his words cause you. You hum in response, suddenly feeling less sociable than a few minutes ago.

‘’Ahhhhh speak of the devil’’ Felix laughs and nods toward the doorway, Chan's broad shoulders making it look tiny. His hand interlocked with hers, observing the room and briefly locking eyes with you before looking away.

Chan had been dating Euna for a few months, but it never got easier seeing them together. 

They'd met in one of your classes, Euna was sweet, pretty  and very popular with both the students and teachers. It hadn’t taken Chan too long to fall for her and spend less and less time with you. He swore nothing had changed between you two but you knew better. It wasn't long after they started dating that Chan began cancelling your plans because ‘Euna planned something’ or he ‘just couldn't make it that day’ You wanted to believe that it would all go back to the way it was soon enough but that day never came, Chan drifting further as time passed. 

You missed his smile, the way he would make you laugh, the way he would bring you your favourite food when you were tired or upset. You thought that maybe one day you would be together, that Chan would see you as more than just his best friend. Sometimes it felt like more between you two. 

He and Euna weave their way through the crowd, her trailing slightly behind, Chan looking back at her every so often with a smile, the sight of them making you nauseous though you wish it didn't. Chan lets go of her to pull Felix into a hug, Euna eyeing you awkwardly as the two of them catch up. Euna had never been rude to you, never made a snarky comment about you being friends with Chan, but she never really said much around you if you were honest. 

‘’Your dress is super pretty’’ you squeak out attempting to break the silence between you two, She offers up a small thank you and a tight smile and turns to Chan as he pulls her into his side, his attention now on the two of you instead of the tipsy blonde Aussie

 ‘’Hey y/n’’ Chan smiles as he lets go of Euna and pulls you into a quick side hug, letting go as quickly as he’d pulled you in, his soft musky scent filling your senses. The four of you make small talk, Chan's eyes catching your own as Felix rambles to Euna about his current pc build. The air starts to feel suffocating, his glances making you feel trapped. You quickly make an excuse to leave, Chan's smile faltering as you excuse yourself from their conversation and disappear into the crowd of bodies. 

It was impossible to think while Chan was standing there, his arms wrapped around Euna unapologetically. The jealousy burning more than the straight tequila sloshing around in your cup, you start to sway to the music begging yourself to forget about him and enjoy your night. You feel a pair of eyes follow your silhouette but you continue to drink and dance, the alcohol making its way through your system and drowning out every thought.

 You feel a figure behind you grabbing your hips and swaying with you, turning your head to see the blurred outline of Hyunjin, his hair in his eyes, a pair of red sunglasses perched on his nose. You let yourself melt into him, you'd always found him attractive anyway. You and Hyunjin move together perfectly, his smooth movements guiding your own as he whispers the lyrics to the song in your ear, his plump lips catching your skin slightly. You finally move your eyes to Chan still feeling someone watching you, secretly wishing it was him. You’re met with a sharp glare, his eyes never leaving you and Hyunjin, his jaw locked in annoyance, you roll your eyes at him and turn around to face Hyunjin winding your arms around his slender neck. 

You turn back to glance at Chan to find him charging your way, ripping you from your dance partner's embrace and towards the stairwell. 

‘’Chan what the fuck are you doing?’’ you yell, trying to wriggle your wrist from his strong grip as he pulls you upstairs and into one of the empty bedrooms.

‘’What the fuck am I doing? What the fuck are YOU doing y/n? Grinding all over Hyunjin like that’’

‘’We are not doing this right now, why does it have anything to do with you, Chan? Why do you even care?’’ venom coating your words, attempting to open the door and leave but being stopped short when he stands in the way, eyes burning into yours. Chan had never been like this with you, what had gotten into him?

‘’What? Are you suddenly into Hyunjin?? We both know he's not right for you y/n’’  his eyebrows knitted in annoyance.

‘’And how would you know what's best for me Chan? We hardly talk anymore!’’ you run your fingers through your hair, easing the tension building up behind your eyes. 

‘’Of course we still talk, you know i've been busy’’ he fires back, disregarding how much space really had built up between the two of you. 

’Give it up Chan and go back to Euna, what I do with Hyunjin has fuck all to do with you’’ you can't deal with the confusion, why is he acting like he's jealous of you and Hyunjin? Why does it matter to him? 

‘’’I’m your best friend y/n of course it has something to do with me, he's not right for you’’ 

‘’Oh my god get your head out of your ass chan, just like you said, you're my best friend not my boyfriend. You can date but I can't? I'm not gonna wait on you to notice me for the rest of my life’’ You turn your face away from him, your confidence and fire slipping as Chan studies you intensely, the room silent apart from your breathing. 

‘’My god you’re an idiot’’ Chan mumbles before grabbing your chin and smashing his lips onto yours, you melt into the kiss at first before snapping out of it and pushing him away

Chan what are you doing?’’ You feel dizzy as you maintain your balance, your hands still pressed against his toned chest. your lungs heaving in time with the thud of the music coming from below. 

‘’You really have no idea, do you? I’m fucking in love with you y/n, why do you think I even started dating Euna in the first place, I wanted to get over you, why else would I jump into a relationship with a girl I hardly knew??’’ The annoyance in his voice evident as he goes on, he runs his hand through his hair repeatedly,  messy waves falling in his face. 

You stare up at him stunned, your lips parted in surprise, he pulls you back in, his lips covering yours as he presses you into him with fervour. He deepens the kiss and walks you backwards, his hands pressing into your hips, his hold nothing like hyunjins. He pulls away his eyes searching yours for something, anything. 

“Tell me to stop, if you don't want this I’ll walk away” his voice is breathy and pained, evident that the last thing he wanted was for you to say now.

You've waited too long for this, for him to need you, touch you. You know it's wrong, his girlfriend just a floor below but you’ve wanted and waited too much to stop and walk away, you can deal with your moral shortcomings tomorrow. 

‘’Please, Chan’’ you whisper, desperate for him to touch you again, clenching your thighs together as heat pools in your lower stomach, your insides on fire for him. He watches how desperate you are for him, your answer clear.

‘’Fuck you’re perfect’’ you look at him pleadingly and he can't hold back anymore, he’d thought about you like this too many times to count, in dreams and when awake. When he can't sleep and he fucks his fist wishing it was you, how pretty your moans would sound as he rocked into you, how tight you'd be around him, how his cum would leak out of your fluttering hole. He was too far gone, a man possessed. 

You gasp as he pushes you back on the bed, his weight pressing you into the mattress perfectly, he licks and nips at your jaw, his hand finding your soaked underwear under your skirt, circling your puffy clit through the slick fabric. 

“You’re so wet for me baby, bet Hyunjin could never have this effect on you. Gonna fuck you so good you'll forget he exists’’ his words making you tingle, his fingers exactly where you need them.

‘’Only want you’’ Your voice comes out breathy and fucked out even though he’s barely touched you and it sends a rush of blood to Chan's already rock-solid cock, straining against the tight fabric of his black jeans.

He sinks two fingers into your tight pussy and you scream in pleasure and pain at the intrusion, his fingers so much thicker and longer than yours, the stretch taking your breath away 

‘’Yeah be a good girl and take my fingers in that tight little cunt, I know you can’’ The way he whispers as your pussy stretches around his fingers and wet squelches echo through the room has you throwing your head back, Chans other hand finding your tits as he stretches you out for him. You shake as he moves his fingers in and out of you, the stretch now dissolved into intense pleasure. He can tell you're close, your eyes closed in pleasure as you sigh out his name.

‘’cum for me pretty, cum around my fingers’’ You moan his name over and over as he rubs your soaking clit and plunges his fingers into your sopping hole,  your back arching in pleasure as he works you through your high. Shouting his name as you cum on his fingers. He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean. The sight alone already making you needy for more 

‘’Need you so bad baby, need to feel you milk my cock’’ he breathes out as he undoes his belt, desperate to be inside of you. You spread your sticky thighs, your glistening pussy on full display for him. His cock springs free from its confines, his pink tip leaking down onto the rest of his thick veiny length. It was no surprise he had the prettiest cock you'd ever seen. He gives it a few pumps, slapping your clit with his bulbous tip, and you moan in pleasure at the sting. 

‘’Take it, baby. Gonna stretch you out so good, gonna make you mine’’ his voice shaky as he presses into you, your pussy spasming around his hard length splitting you open, he slowly bottoms out with a moan stilling inside you. His cock making your stomach bulge with his size 

‘’Fuckfuckfuckkkk you're still so tight, such a perfect pussy’’ his words coming out more like a mantra, the feeling of you around him making him pussydrunk. He fucks in and out of you grabbing your thighs, spreading you wider for him, watching where you’re joined as he takes you. 

 ‘’talk to me baby girl, tell me how I make you feel’’ 

‘’Love it when you fuck me Channie, love your cock so much’’ your voice strained and whiny, writhing against the sheets as he sets a rough pace. He spits on your pussy, the liquid dripping down to where you meet, the sight only aiding his pleasure. 

‘’Bet you thought about this huh? Thought about how good it would feel when I ruin you, hmm baby? Bet you’d touch this little clit thinking about how good I would fuck you?’’ His thrusts become sloppy as he nears his orgasm, his fingers coming to circle your clit. Your moans getting louder as you get close for the second time.

‘’Cum with me baby, wanna cum in this pussy, fill you up with my cum’’ his thrusts getting more erratic and desperate as you orgasm together. You scream his name, your nails digging into his toned back muscles. Chan stills as he spurts his hot release into you, his cum painting your insides a milky white. He collapses onto you, his muscled chest pressed against your fucked out form, both of you breathing heavily. 

‘’Fuck you're mine, just mine’’ he whispers, his cock still inside you, both your release leaking out around his still hard dick.. 

‘’Yeah just yours, Channie’’ you breathe out dreamily, still coming down from your high  

You both lay like that for a while, Chan's face tucked into your neck, leaving gentle kisses, his cock stiffening again inside of you, the party coming to an end downstairs. Things had happened so fast you hadn't realised Chan brought you to his own room, the purple lights giving his skin a lilac hue. 

‘’Chan. What happens now?” You hesitate not wanting to ruin the moment, praying you didn't just fuck everything up with him with a simple question.

He sighs into your skin snuggling closer ‘’I meant it when I said you're mine y/n, Euna knows she and I are done, she knew I was in love with you. I want this, I want you’’ his voice soft and sleepy. 

Your heart nearly explodes, ‘’I love you too Chan, I want you too’’ you kiss him passionately, his tongue fighting yours for dominance, smiling into the kiss as he begins moving inside you again. It feels like a dream and you can't believe he's in love with you too, that he wants you like you want him. Now you have him you'll never let him go, you have always been his, even if he didn't know it. 

‘’It's always been you y/n’’

-ty for reading!! Alr working on more hehe

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

Oh oh I can tell you how I handle this!

First, I must acknowledge that epithets are hard. When writing in a specific character's POV, you have to be careful about describing another character only using descriptors that they would use or it'll feel awkward and weird. (I don't generally think about my sister's height relative to mine and therefore wouldn't refer to her as "the tall one" or even "the taller one", for example, unless it's relevant in the moment. Talking? Not relevant. Her hitting her head on a ledge that I missed? Relevant. That wouldn't be true of someone I just met. If you're tall[er than me] I'm probably noticing it and don't have other ways to differentiate you from other strangers.)

Luckily, I don't usually have to resort to epithets in writing, because readers can generally follow pronouns and support way more proper name uses than you might expect! Pronouns by definition are placeholders for proper names. Where writing gets confusing is when it feels like the pronouns are floating free and unmatched. Reconnecting the proper noun and the pronoun is all you need to reset.

Within a paragraph, use a proper noun enough to be clear. Vague, I know, but it really is an art instead of a science and largely comes down to personal taste. Refining your personal taste can help a ton, and one way to do that is to look at works by people who you feel write these kinds of scenes clearly and cogently. I'm going to use my own writing as an example, just to make it easy for myself.

Structuring your writing so the subject is fairly consistent will help a ton, as will "checking in" with a proper noun when it feels like you've checked in on the other person more recently.

[alt: The muscles in Bruce’s face, Jason realized, were good at going completely still when surprised. That was useful. He had said intervened like Jason had done it on purpose, throwing himself into this nightmare to save Bruce instead of acting like a petulant, stomping child. He had just a moment to wonder if the look from Bruce was meant as gratitude or as an apology when Bruce turned his attention back to the others. “It should reverse in a few days.”]

In the snippet above, because I'm moving tightly between two he/him characters, I use their names just enough to stick into place who's being reference at any given point. If I had wanted to be extra careful, I could have changed "He had just a moment to wonder" to "Jason had just a moment to wonder."

Over multiple paragraphs, when you're sticking with one person, reconnecting (or what I mentally refer to as "checking in") can happen once a paragraph and really shouldn't be needed more than that.

[alt: He really didn’t have much of note to say. Dick narrated his way through the canned goods and the dry goods, making jokes about Wally’s Skittles stash and the cans of Spaghetti-Os Roy demanded be kept on hand but no one else ever touched. He talked about a TV show he had been watching and made a joke that elicited a hrmm from Bruce that would have been a laugh from anyone else. And the more he talked, the more he remembered little stories from his week that he had tucked away with a mental note to tell Bruce.

At last, though, Dick had finished his final story and let the call lapse into a pause that stretched into silence. He bit his bottom lip and fidgeted with the rolls of gauze, stacking them into pyramids outside the gutted medical kit. He could never tell with Bruce whether the silences were contented or an interrogation technique, the patience of an investigator applying pressure to a reluctant witness. In the end, it didn’t much matter.]

But really, truly, the TL;DR of it all is you don't need as many epithets as you think; as long as you don't go crazy with your subject and object switches and check in on your connections regularly, you can lean on pronouns way more than you think; and readers can handle way more uses of names than you might suspect.

Me writing a scene with two or more people of the same gender and trying not to get the readers confused, while also trying not to overuse the characters' names or epithets

[01zfan]

glasses pt. 3

nerd!eunseok x reader | 7.5k words

the third installment to a well liked seriez. this couple is loved by me and so many other people. thank you to my dearie who commissioned me to write this. i got a little carried away (per usual). i hope it's to your liking heh and sorry for making oyu wait forever.

contains: eunseok plotting on the reader a lil, protected sex, fingering, oral sex (female and male receiving)

glasses: one | two | three

You didn’t tell Yunjin and Giselle about your visit to Eunseok’s until two weeks later. When you told them to guess what happened when you went over to his place after class they faked contemplation before answering in a second.

“He played on his computer while you were whoring out on his bed.” Giselle said.

“And he didn't even notice?” Yunjin added.

You had smug look on your face and in a second Giselle and Yunjin were looking at you with wide eyes. They leaned forward over their lunch trays to your side of the booth as you leaned backwards. You crossed your arms and Giselle and Yunjin looked to eachother before looking back to you.

“You’re fucking lying.” Giselle said.

“There’s no way.” Yunjin says.

You shrug to your friends skeptical faces, and then they were gasping so loud you had to preemptively shush them with a finger to your lips.

“You actually fucked him?” Giselle asks.

Giselle’s eyebrows are raised like she can’t quite believe it. Something about your friends doubting the idea of you and Eunseok getting together makes you want to defend him more. You remember Giselle and Yunjin saying he didn’t have it in him, that he didn’t like you to begin with.

“He actually fucked me.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

Yes you may have been playing it up to your friends. By your groups standards, you were definitely the one who fucked him. He was the one who came first (both times), the one you made the move on, the one you instructed. But they were doubting you and the man you had grown fond of. Stretching the truth a little wasn’t a problem. Eunseok was desperate to please and was red all the way down to his stomach, and he genuinely looked mortified when he realized you didn’t finish. He was a person after all, and he was one of the few men you felt fond of outside the idea of having sex. He was so oblivious to your advances but rose to the challenge as soon as he could. You had your fun with him, and seeing the shocked looks and slacked jaws of your friends made you laugh.

“No fucking way.” Giselle said.

You nodded your head and threw up your hands to really sell it. Giselle and Yunjin were giggling like schoolgirls in front of you repeating how they didn’t know he had it in him. You spared them the details, like his friends hearing him moan over voice chat and  how he was packing underneath all those baggy clothes. They were still reeling off the fact that you made it past putting out signals and him missing every single one.

“Have you seen him since?” Yunjin asked.

That’s when you shake your head. Before you can tell your friends that you haven’t been sitting in the same spot in class for two weeks or have been skipping the class all together, Yunjin and Giselle both look over your shoulder before tilting their heads to the side. Giselle looks at you and smiles, Yunjin starts looking at her plate.

“He’s coming over here.” Yunjin says under her breath.

You turn your body in the booth seat, desperately trying to not look over your shoulder but to also confirm who the he is. Certainly it’s not the same he who you were talking about seconds ago. He never comes to the cafe, instead cooking the same meal over and over in his dorm or ordering takeout. The only time you’ve seen him eating in the cafe was on the rare occasion he would join his friend.

But Eunseok was alone. He was alone and taking strides towards your lunch table, hand gripping the strap of his backpack. You stayed still in your seat, fulling eyeing him before turning to face your friends.

“Is he actually coming over here?” You ask, confused.

Although you’ve talked about Eunseok plenty to Giselle and Yunjin, they’ve never met. At most, they had built a relationship of crossing paths and awkward snatches of conversation. You walking with Giselle and Yunjin and calling out to Eunseok just to wave at him. Your unamused friends waving to not be rude and Eunseok waving back because he didn’t know what else to do. Trying to rope him into a conversation with your friends where he would avoid eye contact before making up a terrible excuse about needing to go to his next class.

Your friends had seen you a couple times before or after class when you’d be bothering Eunseok. You’re almost certain they’ve never exchanged words beyond the awkward hey and Eunseok avoiding eye contact. They’d tell him you that Eunseok was weird, but you’d tell him he was just shy. Once you really get to know him he’s a sweetheart, just a sweetheart who avoids conversation whenever he can. So it’s weird, seeing him barrel towards a conversation he doesn’t have to have with new people he’s barely met. But he’s determined, not stopping as Giselle nods her head to your question.

“He’s coming over here.” Giselle said.

Then, as if on cue, Eunseok’s steps started to falter. People pass by him, on their way back to the food for seconds or heading outside of the dining hall altogether. You, Yunjin, and Giselle don’t speak. Three pairs of eyes stare at him, you’re all still watching his next move. His steps get a little slower, Eunseok turns to nod to someone when they apologize for bumping into him. 

A quick glance backwards showed that he hesitated, then looked around, then he started moving with the traffic of people leaving to make a beeline for the vending machines.

“He’s no longer coming over here.” Yunjin said.

You waved your hands in front of your friends quickly, trying to get their attention away from Eunseok and back at you. Now it was you leaning over the table, making them come forward to hear you.

“That’s because you guys are staring at him.” You seethe underneath your breath.

Giselle further proved your point by carelessly looking over your shoulder, staring at Eunseok looking at the terribly curated selection of chips and snacks. After a second she’s already seen enough, looking at you.

“He’s fake browsing the vending machine.” She deadpans. 

Yunjin laughs, finally starting to eat her food. She spares a less obvious glance over her shoulder, a smile on her lips when she turns back to you.

“I think he’s waiting for you.” She says.

You swear you can see Eunseok’s ears turn pink as he presses his hand to the glass of the vending machine. He leans close, tilting his head and moving like he’s really trying to sell the fact that he’s considering buying something. You feel embarrassed that you find him obviously waiting so cute, even when your friends look at you like they can’t believe it. There’s no way the man that allegedly put it down on you two weeks ago is too afraid to walk over and say hi.

“Watch my stuff for me, please?” You ask your friends.

Yunjin and Giselle both ooh and aah at you quietly as you get up from the table. You have to wave your hands for them to be quiet again, and you start walking towards Eunseok. His back is turned towards you, and you know your appearance doesn’t matter. Whatever you do would have him blushing and avoiding eye contact all the same. Still, you find yourself making sure your shirt is falling just right on your body, your hair is laying the way it’s supposed to, and you’re clearing your throat to get ready to talk.

When you make it to the vending machine, Eunseok is still fake browsing. He’s looking at nothing but everything at the same time, pretending like you didn’t surprise him even though he jumps in his skin when he catches you in the reflection of the glass. The fluorescent lighting in the machine shows your reflection, and you can see Eunseok quickly glance to the side before you do the same thing. You find yourself starting to fake browse too, running over the assortment of snacks you don’t even like. 

People leaving the dining hall pass behind the two of you. No one is coming up to the machine, neither of you are making a purchase. Just looking past the glass, waiting for the other to say something first.

“I didn’t see you at class today.” Eunseok says.

The Oreo’s look tempting. You don’t remember the last time you tried Sun Chips.

“Just felt like playing hooky I guess.” You say.

You’re both still locked in on the vending machines. Atleast you don’t have to worry about a line, because no one bothers to waste their time or money to get stale snacks. They also don’t want to gamble either, because these machines are notorious for stealing your cash and not giving you anything in return. You still have the five dollar meal voucher from the lunch lady when it ate your money your first year. But still, maybe an expired Cliff Bar is worth it.

“You didn’t miss much.” Eunseok says. “Just the usual lecture stuff. There’s an assignment due tomorrow, though.”

You hum in acknowledgment, as if you both don’t know that you’ve already seen it. Eunseok has stated the obvious, because you know that he knows you’re not helpless in that class. The Orbit Gum tablets are calling your name in the bottom row. You bring your fingers over the button, before you can take the gamble and insert your five dollar bill you change your mind again.

“Wanna come over?” Eunseok asks.

Your hand freezes. The invitation makes you turn towards Eunseok, who’s still mindlessly staring ahead. You have never been on the receiving end of an invitation from him. Whenever you’ve ended up at his apartment it’s always been you inviting yourself over, taking advantage of the fact that he’s never told you no. Two weeks ago you told yourself you’d take a step back from being overbearing. You might’ve clung to him too hard, bothered him too much in class when he was trying to focus. Interrupting his games too woo him, invading his space since the semester started, disrupting the peace he created for himself. 

Hearing that he wants you over is different. Knowing that he has enjoyed you sitting on his bed and bothering him makes you feel like you’ve done something right. Another thing you find comforting is that Eunseok still stares forward, pretending like you’re not there. He’s nervous too, but you’ve never said no to him either. 

You know Giselle and Yunjin are watching. You’re sure they’re full on peering over the edge of the booth, shamelessly looking to see what the nerd is saying to their bestfriend. You have something to maintain with them and Eunseok alike, you’re not sure what but you must maintain it. So even when you feel like your chest is about to explode you move forward to be in his line of sight, peering up at him.  

His hand is tight around his backpack strap again, you can see the blush across his cheeks. Looking at his glasses takes you back to when they were resting on your flushed face, obscuring your vision while he fixed them crooked with shaking wet hands. You admire that he holds eye contact with you, even through him clearing his throat and his pupils shaking.

“Why do you want me to come over?” You ask.

Eunseok pushes his frames up with his other hand. You have to cross your arms to hide the fact you’re pinching your sides in an attempt to ground yourself. Why are you so much more nervous now than you were on the edge of his bed two weeks ago? The lack of contact since then must be the reason. The fact that you two are both trying to seem unbothered while clearly being bothered  must also be another reason. Giselle and Yunjin watching just a few feet away is the terrible cherry on top.

“I got a drone.” He says. 

When you accepted Eunseok’s invitation and half-assed reason for wanting you over you bounded back to the table like nothing happened. They both imitated how Eunseok was apparently shaking like a leaf while you remained calm and collected. You told them that Eunseok wanted to show you his new drone and they laughed. They laughed at the both of you, because Eunseok was inviting a pretty girl over to play with his new toy and they laughed at you because you accepted it. Giselle remained steadfast in her belief that you were going over there just to play with his drone. Yunjin told you that he wasn’t going to make a move. You excused yourself from dinner quickly, saying you were full before they could get another word in. 

Eunseok was already home by the time you made it to his apartment. You had to take a detour to your place, then a detour to the side of his building to give yourself an impromptu pep talk. There was something riding on you meeting this time after two weeks of radio silence. Things felt less at stake when Eunseok didn’t know or pretended to not know what you wanted from him. Now that you were knocking on his door after sex and two weeks of pretending like the sex didn’t happen you were nervous. 

Usually you had to wait outside his door. He always acted like you were going to recant your invitation, and you had to wait for a break in his games for him to come to you. This time when you knocked on the door you heard things moving, and his rushed steps on the other side. He opened the door a crack and then all the way, presenting his apartment to you like you hadn’t seen it before.  

“You came quick.” Eunseok says.

“I really wanted to see your drone.” You reply.

It’s hard to sound enthusiastic. You’ve been overthinking since the dining hall and you’re not entirely sure the drone even exists. You’re just looking at Eunseok looking at you, nodding before he moves out of the way to let you into the apartment.

When he lets you inside, the first thing you notice is the couch. The first piece of non-bed and non-loveseat furniture takes up space in the living room and the television sits on an actual stand instead of the floor. There’s a coffee table too, another place people can eat food on besides standing at the counter in the kitchen or his gaming desk. 

“It’s like a real person lives here now, Seok.” You say when he closes the door behind you.

Eunseok takes the teasing with a distracted laugh. He’s almost fidgety navigating his space, walking around in bee lines instead of his usual straight path. He walks around you, then the couch, then the coffee table, then his kitchen before he makes it to the counter. You watched his nervous path, all the way until he made it to his drone. 

He looked at his newest toy before looking to you, his fingers tapping on the table. He wanted you to say something, you’re sure of it. The drone is cool, and you can tell Eunseok thinks it’s cool too by the way he set it up on his kitchen counter so it’d be the first thing you’d see. He made sure to turn it so the front was facing you, and the complex remote was right next to it. Like he was trying to tempt you to reach forward and grab the remote without asking.

“You actually got a drone.” You say.

Eunseok nods before reaching for the remote. He’s pushing on knobs and levers, and almost instantly the drone starts hovering above the kitchen counter. You back up by instinct but Eunseok starts smiling, so boyish and happy as he commands his newest toy around. He flies it around the small space of his kitchen, above and over him so he can turn around and follow it. 

The two of you watch in silence and let the whirring of the fans fill the room. Eunseok is already an expert, flying it around the living room and avoiding the fan. He flies it around your tense body and over the couch. He follows it and you watch him, and he turns back to you to show you all of his tricks. He makes the drone flip and fly upside down, then he makes it move side to side quickly. He narrowly misses his new curtains and the corner of the television, but the drone is still in one piece when he makes it land perfectly in the middle of the coffee table. He sits down on the couch the same time the drone lands.

When he’s down he looks over the top of the couch to you, eyes bright with that smile still across his face. You smile with him, you can’t help it as you circle the couch to sit on the other end. 

“That was cool.” Eunseok smiles even more, nodding his head proudly. “Why’d you get it?” You ask.

You try to sound as nonjudgemental as possible. You didn’t think of Eunseok to be a big spender, outside of the skins for the games he’s talked your ear off about and the manga collection lining his shelves. Outside of that, Eunseok is frugal. He buys things he needs, rarely thinking about what he wants. Sitting on a couch with space for more than one personal is already abnormal, and looking at his television rest on a TV stand rather than the floor is weird to. You also believe he doesn’t go outside nearly enough to get a drone. You think this is similar to an indoor cat getting a harness, or a man who values his life getting a motorcycle.

He shrugs his shoulders. He looks at the drone and then his remote.

“Just wanted it.” Eunseok messes with the controller a little more, gripping it in his hands before he offers it to you. “Wanna try?” He asks. 

Eunseok has never been greedy of his belongings, he was never the type to hate sharing. But he’s never had to consider it. He’s lived alone his entire adult life, and even as a child he never had to share. Even when he offered you the remote it was awkward, half placing it in your lap before you even considered taking it.

“I don’t know how to fly a drone.” You say.

That got him excited. He’s scooting to your end of the couch quickly, he’s already ushering the remote into your hands. You take it and Eunseok’s thigh is touching yours, his hand is ghosting over yours as he points to a dial.

“Just push that.” Eunseok gets a little closer, his other hand comes close to actually touching yours. But he keeps a distance, pointing to the other side of the remote to a switch. “Press that at the same time.” He instructs.

This reminds you of something. You’re timid pressing both of the switches at the same time, afraid of doing something wrong. The fear of breaking Eunseok’s newest toy almost makes you want to hand the remote back to him, but he’s urging you to do it and arguably looks more excited for you to use his toy than he was. Even when the drone wobbles on the hover he’s smiling. He follows the drone up, and points at another lever below your finger. 

“Press that to make it move side to side.”

You do as your told, and both you and Eunseok watch the shaky drone follow your movements. Left and right, a little diagonal when you accidentally take your finger off of the switch. Eunseok leans more into the couch as you get used to it, and his hand that was ghosting over yours goes to rest on the back of the couch behind your body. He gets a little closer to you and he pulls his leg into his lap. 

You try to focus on the drone as you feel Eunseok start to caress your shoulder. His hand was hesitant at first, a clenched fist resting on the back of the couch before he finally spread out his palm and let his first finger touch you. He makes it hard for you to focus flying this thing when he fully clasps over your shoulder, rubbing it gently. He also makes it hard to focus because he pretends he’s not touching you, even when you can feel the sweat on his palm. Eunseok points at the drone with his other hand when it starts to get a little too shaky, then to the remote clutched in your hands.

“You have to press both of them at the same time.” He says.

You follow his instructions, until his drone comes closer and closer to the coffee table. The dismount is rough, you clench your teeth at terrible thought of breaking Eunseok’s precious drone. He doesn’t react the same. He continues holding your shoulder even when the controller for the drone rests awkwardly on your lap. 

“Eunseok, I really like your drone. I really do think it’s cool but—”

“I want you to stay.” He says quickly.

“You want me to stay?” You ask.

There’s only been two times Eunseok has directly expressed that he wants you to continue invading his space. The first was right before he came in your mouth two weeks ago, and the second was now. He’s just desperate enough when he says it, his hands still holding your shoulder and the other moves to grab the remote from your lap. The words slipped out before he could figure out how to calmly say it, if he was going to say it at all. 

“Why do you want me to stay?” 

You watch Eunseok try so hard to keep eye contact with you. The way his flat hair is tucked underneath his glasses is cute. He’s due for a haircut too, because it’s getting to the length where it stats covering his eyes and he starts making subtle complaints about it.

“Because I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“You see me nearly everyday.” You push your luck further, trying to see how far you can get Eunseok to go. He already told you he wants you here, he’s already told you he missed you. You let your hand travel to his thigh, right where his basketball shorts rode up to reveal his skin. He’s warm already, he even freezes underneath your touch. “But I’m here. Right now.” You look at Eunseok, and see the rosy tint already appearing on his cheeks. You start tracing the beginning of a pattern, and you look at the crown of his head to see strands of hair sticking up. ”Seok.”

“Take your shirt off.”

He spoke fast. His order fell from his lips and stayed in the air, the two of you eyeing eachother trying to figure out if what you heard was real. Eunseok’s eyes are wide, yours are still blinking as you try to process what’s happening. Not only did he approach you in the dining hall he never eats at, and share things with you he’s never shared with you before, but now he’s telling you what to do when he’s always let you do things to him. Everything from today leaves your hand frozen on his leg and your lips parted. 

You can tell Eunseok shocked himself. The blush on his neck gives him away, and the fact that he’s holding your shoulder makes it seem like it’s for comfort more than anything else. He’s going to recant his order at any moment, or profusely apologize for reading this situation wrong. Before his lip can twitch you let your hands go to the bottom of your shirt too fast, pulling it over your head and then tossing it to the ground. Your shirt ends up crumbled next to the drone on the coffee table, and you settle back into the couch. Eunseok’s arm is still along the back of the couch, and his eyes are even wider. 

You’re sure you still match his frazzled expression. The same Eunseok that struggled to hold eye contact when you first met him is told you what to do. You put your hands on your knees and sit up straighter, doing everything except verbally telling him how ready you are to listen.

He’s slow getting up from the couch. He hesitates for a moment before standing in front of you. On his couch you tilt your head up until it’s uncomfortable, until you can him look down at you and push his glasses up with a timid hand. His body is so close to you. His baggy shirt frames the broadness of his shoulders, leaving everything else about him to the imagination. You’re in your bra and pants, looking up to him waiting for what’s next. 

He reaches his hand to you but you stay still. He lets his hand go to the tip of your head, gliding down until he touches your cheek. His hand moves to your arm then your back, pulling you closer and you lean into his touch fully. He’s holding your shoulders, your eyes almost start to cross from keeping them open for so long. You don’t want to miss a single thing. The way he pulls at you, the way his shirt moves in front of you, the way he parts his lips just to close them before he brings himself to say something.

“Get on your knees.” He whispers.

He’s still looking at you wide eyed like he can’t believe the orders are falling from his mouth. He stutters, but you don’t hesitate when you start sliding off the couch. When Eunseok slowly puts the remote control down on the coffee table you listen, melting fully off the couch to rest on your knees. You’re timid getting into place, the most jumpy you’ve ever been in Eunseok’s presence. 

He’s the same way he was in his gaming chair, nearly shaking as he settles in front of you. The scene is awkward. Eunseok doesn’t know what to do now that he’s lead you half naked to the ground, and you don’t want to do anything to scare him out of whatever mood he’s found himself in. From avoided looks in class to being ordered to your knees you’ve made it too far to ruin it now. You’re overexerting yourself to show Eunseok how good you’re being. Hands folded on top of your thighs, perfect posture, looking up at him with everything you got. The blush creeps to his cheeks as his glasses slide down his nose. You watch Eunseok’s hands wrap around the belt of his pants.

“Can I—”

You nod before he can even finish. You find yourself wanting him to not ask for a single thing. He lets out a silent exhale and starts undoing the perfect bow, the sound of the laces rubbing against eachother makes you shuffle on your knees. You let out an exhale when Eunseok lets go of the loose waistband, letting it pool at his feet. He wasn’t wearing underwear, the baggy shorts hid how he was really feeling about the situation. Your hands ball into fists and you try so hard to keep eye contact, but you can stop yourself from looking down at him.

The quick look up you can see Eunseok impatiently pushing his frames into place. He keeps his thumb underneath the rim and a hand slowly goes to his dick, shuffling forward to your kneeling body. His hand doesn’t leave his glasses until he brings them to your mouth, poking and pinching your sensitive lips.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” He says.

Your hands go to Eunseok’s thighs when he starts dragging his hand up and down his dick. He slows down you give him small nods, letting him know you hear him and you need to see it.

When he starts working his hand again, the sight is unreal. Seeing Eunseok give you a sneak peak of what he does in his time alone makes your mouth water. His hands were barely involved last time, nervously touching you only after you gave him explicit invitations to each time. Now he was skillfully jerking himself off, massaging his tip and letting precum glisten between his fingers.

“I keep thinking about you too.” You say.

Although it seems like you’re saying anything just to appease him, it’s the truth. Like you’re playing the worst game of poker ever, you don’t try to hide anything. You can’t decide if you’ll focus on his hand touching himself or his eyes staring down at you, so you do both. The desperation is palpable, the way you keep fixing your gaze is obvious. You remember how his glasses blurred your vision last time you were in this position with him, and he starts working his hand a little faster at the sound of your voice. 

“You’re so pretty.” Eunseok’s head tilts back when he squeezes himself tighter and you want to cry from the loss of eye contact. He starts fucking his hand and you shuffle forward and touch him so he’ll look down at you again.

“You’re so hot.” His hand still plays with your mouth, two fingers working past your lips to press down hard on your tongue and bottom row of teeth. The intrusion makes saliva collect in your mouth and your jaw parts, making your words sound even more pathetic as they’re slightly gargled. “You don’t even know.” You say.

“You keep telling me that.” He groans quietly.

Eunseok looks down at you again and he presses harder. Your mouth is open the perfect amount, and he stops touching himself to hold his dick steady at the base. Before you can shuffle forward again he taps your lips with his leaking tip. You can feel the slick precum already beginning to chill on your bottom lip. When you stick your tongue out Eunseok taps his tip there too, groaning at the feeling of your warm tongue flat against him. You’re shocked that this was the same Eunseok nervous to even let you touch him. He’s fucked out just from the motions, and he gets so lost the quick taps turn into prominent spaced out slaps. The sound of his heavy dick hitting your tongue makes you dig your nails into his thigh.

“Open up, baby.” His voice is bothered and he’s impatient, pressing your jaw even further apart down until your lips stretch. “Open up for me, please.” He says quietly.

You let his prying fingers open you up until he can slid  into your mouth. Instantly he’s heavy on your tongue, and you can taste him. When you look up Eunseok’s head is tilted back, and he lets out a sigh so wrecked you’re reminded of the last time you were in this position. His hand palms your shoulder, using that as a slow guide to get you to take more of him. His head lulls every direction, and he shivers each time your tongue laves a new area.

“You’re so good at this.” He compliments.

Eunseok starts bringing his own hips forward to fuck your mouth and you hum that you know. Your words aren’t picked up, only the vibration and Eunseok moaning again fills the room.

Even when Eunseok’s hand stopped guiding your shoulders, you continued the movements. Buried in his lap, stretching your lips and jaw as you bobbed your head up and down. Each time you made a gagging sound Eunseok would moan, and his hand eventually went back to your shoulder to grip it with all his might. The pain only motivated you, and the way he was pulsing and getting harder in your mouth told you he was close. His weak whimpers above you were warning signs you were blowing straight past. 

Right when Eunseok’s sounds started getting louder, he pulled you off of him. His dick bobbed in front of your face, and you quickly wiped your watery eyes to get a good look at him. Eunseok was flushed red, and bending down to be eye level with you in an instant.

You could tell something changed when Eunseok started kissing you the second time. Maybe you were still reeling from your overworked gag reflex and the taste of him on your tongue, but it was different. The way he found a slow rhythm it made you think he was doing it on purpose to trip you up. The pace he set was completely opposite of his hands that guided your shoulders. You were the one trying to catch up, not sure if you were going too fast or too slow.

When Eunseok was dragging his tongue over your top row of teeth wasn’t from inexperience, but to get you to open your mouth a little wider. He was kissing just to feel you heave impatient huffs of hot air into his mouth. When you tried turning your head to figure it out his gentle hands kept you in place, making you feel what he was doing to you. Your clutched at the bottom of his shirt hopelessly, fighting back a pitiful sound when he ran his tongue over your lips. 

When Eunseok pulled back and you felt his spit cool on your face, he didn’t apologize or say that he was bad at kissing. He smirked at your glistening face and your mixed drool over lining your lips. He pulled your face back and tilted it up with fingers underneath your chin, smirking at his handiwork. The sheen caught the light and he brought you back in again, just to press his tongue against yours and watch the string of spit connect your open mouths. You didn’t know what to do. You were gormless, glazed over in the eyes as you let your face continue to be tilted by Eunseok. You didn’t even swipe your tongue over your lips to break the string. You kept your eyes on him, suddenly finding yourself waiting for what was next. 

“Did I do something wrong last time you were here?” Eunseok asks.

His eyes are still on your lips, now dry and missing where they were seconds ago. You only think to talk when he looks into your eyes. You shake your head in his hand, eyebrows knitting together to show that you’re sincere.

“I had so much fun.” You say. 

Eunseok stays on your lips, running his thumb over the bottom. He mindlessly plays with your face and mouth, touching you as he brings his eyes up to yours.

“You haven’t bothered me during class in awhile.” He says.

You want to deny it, but it’s the truth. You grip his shirt tighter, trying to figure out why you put off feeling like this for so long. 

“I thought I came on too strong.” You grip Eunseok’s shirt and your back hits the couch. You’re still on the floor and you’re still on your knees. You embarrassingly still need more. “Thought I might’ve scared you away.”

Eunseok kissed you again, deep with his hand holding you steady. When he pulled away you’re eyes were still closed in bliss, opening up again to see his eyes blown out. You were just as wrecked as him, you could see it reflected in his lenses. He was able to see you clearly, the bleary look in your eye and how much of a mess you already were. 

His hands go to the pocket of his basketball shorts, pulling out a condom in the pack you left last time. You watch him tear it with his fingers before his hands are back on you, until you were turned to face the couch. He continued handling you until your legs were spread and your top half was resting on top of the couch. He even fixed your arms until the were laying on top of the cushion, laying the foil wrapper right next to you.

You wait to feel Eunseok’s warmth as he shuffles behind you to slot his body between your legs. You wait for what feels like an eternity, suddenly too nervous to look over your shoulder and see it for yourself. Before you can whine about anything, you feel the tickle of hair on your back and then a wet kiss on your waist.

Instantly you freeze. You can feel Eunseok’s lips travel further down, and a hand on your lower back keeps you from turning to face him.

“Just stay like that.” Eunseok murmurs behind you.

When he kisses the curve of your ass you felt yourself meld into the couch. Your head is resting on the cushion, you swear you can hear your heartbeat when you press your ear into the sofa. Not knowing what’s happening behind you reminds you of the way you had Eunseok two weeks ago. You’re now in his shoes, still reeling from the dried spit on your face while he travels further down.

“Wait.” Your hand is in a panic behind you in seconds, but Eunseok can’t be phased. He grabs your hand and presses it to your lower back, his other hand grabbing your ass. He spreads you out and you whine because you’ve never been like this before, you would’ve never thought Eunseok would have you like this. There’s another wet kiss on your ass and you try to duck away. “Eunseok.” 

His tongue is against your ass, then he works down lower. You’re pressing your face deeper into the couch cushion, scraping against the fabric to try and work through the feeling. It’s wet, he’s messy, he’s loud behind you. You can feel Eunseok’s tongue press into your heat timidly before he’s diving further in. His tongue prods into you, shallow laps that have you instinctually twitching away from his face. Your hand that’s still pinned to your lower back  clenches and spreads out. You try not to make any noise. Like Eunseok’s got your tongue you’re just open mouthed with your eyes screwed shut. There’s no way he has you like this. There’s no way he’s spreading you further, there’s no way you can feel his finger push past into you.

“Feels good, right?” Your entire face is hot. Sweat is lining every part of you and there’s something touching your face to cause the worst kind of discomfort, but you can’t move from the spot he has you in. “You’re so tight.” He pushes your body forward when you jolt from another finger being added. “And wet.” Eunseok adds.

You don’t dare to look behind you. You can hear him situate himself behind you, sitting down and working his fingers inside of you while the other keeps you spread. Any attempt to move your hips away he follows. He doesn’t order you around anymore, accommodating to your swaying hips and your heaving pants against his new couch. You’re sure you’re drooling on his cushions, and you’re making a mess on his fingers. He keeps driving his fingers inside of you, until you’re shaking your head and reaching another panicked head backwards.

“Eunseok I think.” An effort to lift your body off the couch is thwarted when Eunseok’s hand leaves your ass to touch your clit. You’re pressed against the couch again, mouth agape. “I’m close.” You say.

For a moment Eunseok pauses. Just before you rapidly decline from the peak he goes back to the pace he set, constant and grueling and stimulating that drool starts slipping down your chin.

“Really?” He sounds amazed, like everything about what he was doing to you wasn’t calculated. Like he’s just playing with another toy, surprised that you are feeling any sort of pleasure. You nod immediately, and thee quickest look back you can see Eunseok let his glasses slide down lower. They’re foggy, because it’s a million degrees in this room and they’re focused on the part of your body where you’re bent and rocking back on him in the slightest way. Like you’re an experiment he takes you all in. “You’re close?”

If he wasn’t so curious you would’ve thought he was mocking you. But Eunseok is paying attention to everything, recalling what he was doing earlier that made you react to him. You selfishly don’t have it in you to pull him along, tossing compliments over your shoulder to let him know he’s doing the right thing. You’re too distracted, instead focused on crying out when he starts scissoring his fingers and closing your legs in on itself when he starts rubbing your clit the right way.

Eunseok doesn’t even notice that you came. He vocalizes something about how you’re squeezing his fingers, then commenting on how you’re so wet. Then he’s bumping into his coffee table. You’re still weak but he can’t be bothered as he pulls out to wrap an arm around your hip, rearranging you to his liking. You can barely move to follow him, trying to alleviate some of your weight while being moved into place. Eunseok is satisfied quickly with your head resting on the armrest and your hands gripping it for support. You hear him stumble to situate a leg on the coffee table, and he’s back to touching you again.

Eunseok is repeating curses behind you again and again, and you’re trying hard to keep that same form. You have to fight to keep your knee slipping out from underneath you from each thrust. You’re on the brink of overstimulation and Eunseok is trailing close behind you, panting and pressing his sweaty chest to your back. 

“Did you cum?” He asks with the same doubt the first time, and it makes you clench around him again. His shaky fingers loosen the grip on your hip to go to your clit, and just the feeling of him pressing deep makes your entire body twitch. “Did you cum?” 

He repeats the question, and you know it’s because he wants to make sure you’ve finished. But paired with his fingers working through your cries it seems like a threat, almost like a punishment. You lift your head from the armrest, tears staining your cheeks.

When you repeat to him over and over again that you came, and you’re going to cum again, he looks at you like he can’t believe it. His harsh pace with his hips even falter, but you’ve come too far to let anything stop. Now it’s you driving your hips back, working through the burn, the overstimulation, everything to chase after it. Eunseok’s shocked face pulls to ecstasy, and then he’s pulling at your shoulders until your back is pressed to his front. You’re gripping the back of the couch as Eunseok keeps your face turned to meet his lips. Shaky and deep kisses, where he’s just trying to feel the inside of your mouth and you’re trying to focus on getting him to finish. 

Eunseok is the first to pull away to press his head into your shoulder, grunting into your skin as he ruts his hips against yours. You can feel the rim of his glasses press into your skin, and you can feel his hands hastily reach down to grab yours. He’s slipping his fingers between the gaps in yours and holds you tight, rutting into you it punches every breath from your lungs. By the time Eunseok twitches and slumps against you, you’re gasping to catch your breath. He matches your exhaustion, gasping quietly and panting against your back.

His hand is sluggish leaving yours, you stay clutched against the back of the couch and gripping it for support when he pushes his glasses back up his face. You’re staring forward at his front door, trying to come to terms with the fact that you manifested whatever just happened. Yunjin and Giselle really aren’t going to believe you, if you can find the energy to leave his apartment. You feel like you’re stuck now, and you’re about to become an even worse thorn in your side. You pray he doesn’t mind, because he pulls out of you and ties the condom off before he’s lying down and guiding you to lay on top of him. He catches his breath when he wraps his arms around you, breathing deep and rubbing shapes on your skin. 

He’ll never be able to get rid of you after this, you’re sure of it. He holds you tight and you can’t even think of leaving, whatever obligations you had for the rest of the day are cast to the side.

“Seok.” 

You look up to see Eunseok already looking at you. His glasses are halfway down his nose, so far down he looks at you over the rim.

“Can I wear your glasses?”

[spiderb00]

- BACK TO HIGH SCHOOL

Sophia Laforteza x reader  | (request)

"You and Sophia hate each other, but maybe it's not quite like that..."

Genre – Fluff        Warnings – Not reviewed (sorry, I'm sleepy) 

Now playing – Still Into You, by Paramore 

A sigh of breath came from your lips as soon as you parked your car in front of the house of one of your childhood friends. The moonlight illuminated part of the street and when you turned off the headlights of your car everything seemed to have become a little more tense. Getting out of the car, you took a deep breath, bottle of red wine in hand to at least say that you brought something to the small party.   

When you rang the doorbell, your whole body shuddered, not only because it was a little cold outside, but because of the anxiety of seeing all your childhood friends together again, especially one of them.  

When the door opened, you froze, staring intently at the person who had opened the door for you. Sophia Laforteza, in all her glory. Many might say you were sworn enemies in high school, but you couldn't disagree more.   

"Oh, it's you..." Her tone showed that maybe she hadn't let go of the little disagreements you had.   

Giving an awkward smile, you watched Sophia move out of the way, a silent permission for you to enter. The house was full of conversation and laughter, and before you could think of what to say to Sophia, one of your longtime friends clung to you.  

"YN!" Maya screamed, hugging your neck with excitement. "I didn't know if you would actually come, you seem to be always so busy with your company. Come on, come in." the woman said, pulling you by the wrist.   

If you had turned your face, you would have seen Sophia roll her eyes, walking up to one of the closest friends she had at school and collapsing next to her on the couch. 

"Wow, it feels like you've come back with one of the heaviest energies I've ever felt in my entire life. Who was at the door? O Nosferatu?” Abby, Sophia's friend, asked.   

"Worse, Yn." Sophia said, crossing her arms like a tantrum child.   

"Yn? Like, that girl who had a crush on you?" Abby asks, taking a sip of her martini.   

"She didn't have a crush on me, she hated me. She always tried to steal my roles in school plays. Not to mention when she tore up the letter someone wrote to me on Valentine's Day." Sophia's gaze was watching the kitchen, maybe she wasn't in her right mind, and just maybe she wanted to throw the hollow of the coffee table on your head.   

"Girl, that girl liked you, I'm not crazy. By the way, I'm always right, remember?!"   

"What? Don't you remember how it happened?" 

- High School, Manila – six years ago. 

At that school, every sixteen-year-old's dream was to get a Valentine's Day letter. It was a school custom for a post office to be made during Valentine's Day, so when the day came, everyone would write letters to the people they had a crush on, and that letter would be delivered to each other's lockers during class.   

With the classroom still empty, Sophia and Kylie talked freely, cheerful and super excited to see if their passions had sent them something.   

"I don't know, I just wanted Yn to stop being so boring and like me, at least a little bit." The young Sophia said, organizing the materials for the next class and leaving them metrically positioned on the table.   

"I've already told you that I think she only does all that to get your attention." Abby said, looking at herself in the mirror as she smeared lip gloss.  

"You'll still admit that I'm right, Sophie." Abby said, making Sophia roll her eyes at the nickname. "Do you think Dylan likes my lip gloss?" The girl asked.   

"He'd be an idiot if he didn't like it." Sophia says, making Abby laugh. "It seems lovely to receive a letter from him."  

"He's adorable." Abby said, a cocky tone coming out of her words.   

"I don't think he likes me." Sophia said, pointing to a pencil, so she wouldn't have to do this during class.  

"Of course he likes you, he's just shy." Abby said, not wanting her best friend to think bad things about her boyfriend.   

"yes, it could be." Sophia said, not paying much attention to the words of the girl next to her.   

"Anyway, let's hope you get your letter today." Abby said, making Sophia laugh lightly as she shook her head.   

While Sophia and her friend laugh at the conversation, Yn enters the room, accompanied by Zack, one of the nerdy boys who always hung out with her. Choosing Sophia's back seat, Yn sat down, and the Filipino girl observed the girl's different behavior.   

 "Have you finally decided to pay attention in class instead of sleeping in all of them?" Sophia asked, her tone sounding too sarcastic for Yn.  

"Why don't you take charge of your life." Yn said, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair, making the Filipina furrow her brows at her. Turning in her chair, Sophia missed something very important, the sigh and the look of sadness that Yn had on her face.  

After school was over, young Sophia was crossing her fingers. Sophia had asked her faithful friend, Abby, to open the door to her closet, wanting to be quick to pick up the letter, but too afraid to look first. The Filipino girl had her back turned, and when she heard the soft creak of her closet door, only one question crossed her mind.   

"And then? Is there something in there?" Sophia asked, the tone of her voice evidenced how nervous she was.  

"Yes." Abby said, positioning the letter she had ordered inside Sophia's closet, in front of the Filipina's face. 

Sophia's breathing was quickened, her hand rose and her hand was aching, tingling to have the letter finally in her possession. As Sophia's fingers brushed against the envelope's paper, a gust of wind hit her, and along with it Hurricane Yn. On top of her battered skateboard, Yn had just stolen the letter from Sophia's hands, paddling her feet faster on the ground, practically flying with the board on wheels.   

"YN! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"   

Passing like lightning through the students, maneuvering and dodging all possible things, Yn tried to go faster. Looking back, the problem girl saw Sophia running towards her, like an angry bull, a bomb about to explode, like anything that could hurt a lot, and Yn was the target.   

Luckily, some students passing through the front door of the school kept it open, giving Yn easier access to the parking lot. With the passenger door open, Yn's nerdy and rich friend, Zack, was waiting for her, nervous that one of them would get into serious trouble. When the boy finally saw Yn coming towards him, he quickly shouted, warning Yn that Sophia was right behind her.   

"YN, COME BACK HERE!" Sophia screamed, still trying to reach the girl, who was now hanging from the door of Zack's Jeep.  

"SORRY!"   

It was the only thing Sophia heard Yn say before the car accelerated. 

"Now do you remember? You ran with me, the whole school thought we were crazy!" Sophia said, finishing remembering the story to Abby.   

"It doesn't matter, we were children. I remember very well how you wanted to receive a letter from her that day." Abby countered Sophia's line, making the woman roll her eyes. "You always rolled your eyes at me in high school, and I was always right."  

"There's no way she'll like me." Sophia muttered.   

"There's no way she'll like me." The same phrase was repeated in the kitchen.   

Yn, who had now begun talking to Maya and Zack about her complicated relationship with Sophia, took a big sip of the beer she had in her hand, trying to forget what a little disaster she was when Sophia opened the door.   

"I never understood, why did you steal her letter anyway?" Maya asked, making you look at Zack.  

Seeing as you were looking at him, the man quickly prepared a shot of tequila for you, which you readily accepted. The liquid burned your throat, and when you finished feeling the consequences of alcohol in your system (just for now), you hit the small empty shot glass on the counter.  

"Let's go..." 

Games has always been one of your favorite topics of conversation with Zack, but when you got close to the classroom, something a little more interesting caught your eye.  

"He's adorable." Abby said, a cocky tone coming out of her words.   

"I don't think he likes me very much." Sophia said, pointing to a pencil, so she wouldn't have to do this during class.  

"Of course he likes you, he's just shy." Abby said, not wanting her best friend to think bad things about her boyfriend.   

Stopping abruptly, you began to pay attention to the girls' conversation. Zack, slightly confused by your extravagant, looked at you as if to ask what was wrong. 

"What are you doing? Let's go in." Before he made the presence of the two of you recognized there, you grabbed him by the back of his shirt, putting your hand on his mouth as he tried to protest.   

"Shut up and listen." You whispered aggressively, causing your friend to raise his hands in surrender.   

"yes, it could be." Sophia said, not paying much attention to the words of the girl next to her.   

"Anyway, let's hope you get your letter today." Abby said, making Sophia laugh lightly as she shook her head. 

That was it, all was lost, your plan to deliver a letter to Sophia and finally confess your feelings to her was over. Every time you tried to do projects in pairs, discreetly changing the teacher's list of names, or every time you auditioned for the male role in a play just because Sophia would narrow down as the princess who needed to be saved, all of that had gone down the drain, she liked another boy.   

Finally understanding what was happening there, Zack put his hand on your shoulder, your sad look made the boy feel bad for you.   

"I'm sorry, Yn." Zack said, trying to comfort you about your first broken heart. 

"Alright, I mean, at least she doesn't know I like her, it would be a clime." You said, laughing falsely as you tried to mask your pain.   

When Zack was going to tell you not to pretend, your eyes widened, a sensation taking over your body, making you shiver from head to toe, the only thing your mind weighed was that Sophia could NEVER see that letter.  

"Zack!" You whispered aggressively, grabbing the shoulders of the boy in front of you. "She can't see the letter!" You said, shaking your best friend's shoulders.   

"Hey, I'm going to get dizzy..."   

"As soon as class is over, wait for me in the parking lot with your car running! I have a plan." You said, dropping Zack and entering the classroom.   

"After that, I think she started to hate me even more." You said, taking one more shot. Grabbing a plastic cup with something Zack mixed.   

"But you know what, I don't care, I don't feel anything..."  

Without paying much attention, you ended up missing the moment when Sophia entered the kitchen, turning around just in time and spilling all your crazy drink on her clothes. Her mouth was open, the perfect shape of an 'o', just like Zack and Maya's.   

"Sorry, I..." You couldn't even finish the sentence, the Filipina was already going up the stairs towards the bathroom.   

 With a sigh of defeat, you rubbed your hands over your eyes, thinking about why you couldn't do anything right when it came to Sophia.   

"Go over there." Maya said, pointing with her drink towards the stairs.

"I can't, she'll tear me apart." You said, crestfallen. 

"Or you can finally have a conversation as adults and sort out whatever high school craziness you have to sort out."  

Taking Maya's words as an encouraging, you walked determinedly upstairs. When you came face to face with the bathroom door, leaning your body completely against it, you let out a deep sigh, before finally knocking.  

"It's Yn..."  

"Go away, Yn."  

One more sigh. Maybe those shots were a bad idea, now your head hurt.   

"I'm sorry. Not just for the drink, for everything. I was really stupid, I just thought it was the best way to get your attention, but then you started hating me, and I can't shut my mouth." You keep talking as you slide through the door, sitting in the middle of the hallway.   

"It was all a bad idea, I shouldn't have stolen the letter from you, I shouldn't even have sent it..."   

As soon as you closed your mouth, the bathroom door opened. You fell on your back with a dull thud and groaned as your head hit the ground with some force. As you sat down again, you were sure that those shots were a bad idea.   

"Were you the one who sent the letter?" Sophia asked, genuinely interested in what you had just said.   

"It's... I..."   

"Yn, was that letter yours?" Sophia approached, lowering herself to your height and looking at you with a look you had never seen on her face.   

"Yes." You confessed, another sigh coming from your lips, followed by a sob, which left you half embarrassed. "I heard you talking about another guy that day, you know, when I was walking into class." You confessed, another sob coming out of your lips, making you lower your head so that Sophia wouldn't see how embarrassed you were. 

"Wait, man? I wasn't talking about any guy..."   

"Yeah, you were talking about how sure you were that he didn't like you, and then Abby made sure he did. I was just scared of ruining something you really wanted."  

Analyzing your words, Sophia couldn't believe it. You liked her too, you were both hiding your real intentions for fear of something silly getting in the way. Finally remembering the conversation she had with Abby that day, Sophia started laughing, it was a little funny and sad to think that the two of you could have been together all this time. 

"I was talking about Abby's boyfriend, you stupid." Sophia said, pushing your chest, making you look at her with a confused expression.  

"So you didn't like any guys?" You asked, making Sophia deny it with her head.  

"No. In fact, I really wish you had sent me a letter that day, if you had arrived a little earlier to eavesdrop on my conversation, you would have listened." Sophia said, sitting next to you and touching her shoulder with yours.   

"You know, I never wanted to go into the theater to steal your role in the cast." You said, another letting a sob escape. "I wanted to be your date."   

Smiling, Sophia looked at you, the Filipina's gaze going down your chest, until it landed on your hands, which were on your lap. With a slight smile on her face, Sophia took your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers, making you look into her eyes for the first time.   

"Do you still want to be?" 

Hey guys, sorry for the delay with the requests, I'm trying hard. But lately I've also been very busy taking care of my farm and my WIFE Haley, we have a son now, her name is Ani (like anora)

Anyway, now seriously, I'm trying to make the requests, but I'm trying to enjoy my vacation, in a little while my college classes start and then it will get more complicated.

I also created another profile to write about women outside of kpop, the name of the profile is Sipderb00bs (in honor of the anon who always read my name wrong), I will be receiving requests there too, in case you want to take a look.

Stay safe and drink water

xoxo, spider.

[starlit-writer]

in sickness and in health, ch. 2 - alpha!simon riley x omega!reader

here is chapter two!!!! in writing this chapter, i realized that this little fic has taken on a complete life of its own that i never anticipated, and will have many, many more chapters to come, so if you want to be added to a tag list to make sure you stay up-to-date, let me know in the replies! eat well, lovelies <3

as always, if you want to understand more about my omegaverse au, you can look at my masterpost here, and it'll help explain all of the intricacies that may or may not be explained well enough in these short-form fics!

word count: 4,270 chapter one chapter three masterlist ao3 link

You slept. And you slept. And you slept.

But, Simon held tight to his promise to you. He didn’t leave your side for any longer than necessary, and necessary held a very… loose definition to Simon as you laid on his bed, all but comatose. In the three days since you had shown up at his door, Simon had left the bed maybe five times to relieve himself, and a handful of other times just to growl somebody away from the door who had missed the memo that Simon and you would be out of commission for the foreseeable future. The rest of the time, he just laid next to you, curled up like a guard dog. Sometimes he talked to you, but most of the time, he was just watching your chest as it rose up and down, his fingers resting delicately over your wrist to ensure your heart was still beating. That you were still here.

It had been three days. And you still hadn’t woken up. The worry in Simon’s heart was becoming hard to keep down, and the neglect of his own body was starting to catch up with him. He hadn’t done any work, hadn’t showered, and had barely eaten the food that the team had left at the door. He was going insane with panic, with fear, at the thought that he lost you. That he had killed you.

He never knew what he had had until it was gone.

Simon was spiraling. He sat in the corner of the bed, making sure to keep his thigh pressed against you, but his head was in his hands as his fingers tugged relentlessly at his dirty blond strands. It was his fault. All of this was. He didn’t know how to be a good alpha, let alone any sort of partner that he knew you needed him to be. He was so completely lost in his own tortured mind that he didn’t even hear Soap as he slipped into the room.

It wasn’t until the tray full of food that Soap was carrying clattered to the ground that Simon even noticed he was in there. Simon’s head snapped up, his hackles rising as a vicious growl ripped through his throat. The sound was a clear warning to get the fuck away from him and his mate, but all Soap did was roll his eyes in complete exasperation and take a step closer to your sleeping form.

Simon’s growl intensified at the intrusion, his muscles rippling in preparation to fight. It didn’t matter that this was Johnny, one of the few people on this earth that Simon trusted wholeheartedly. His mate was dying, and Simon’s alpha was tearing itself apart, identifying anything and anyone that got too close to you as a threat. But, the other alpha ignored him. The only sign that Simon got that Soap even heard his posturing was the low, return growl that left Soap’s lips as they curled up to reveal his alpha fangs.

“Haud yer wheesht,” Soap grumbled in reply as his hand came up to rest on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing gently over the joint. Soap’s focus was entirely on you, completely ignoring the massive bulk of Simon just on the other side of you. Soap and you had always been friends, and you had sought comfort in him over the last few months of Simon’s neglect. Guilt gnawed at him that he wasn’t enough, that he couldn’t help prevent the bond sickness from stealing you away, but that guilt was far overshadowed by the rage he felt towards Simon.

“How could ye ever do this to ‘er, huh?” Soap muttered, the words low and dangerous as he finally glanced up at Simon. “She was good. More tha’ good. She was a great fuckin’ medic, better teammate, and now look at ‘er.”

Simon’s alpha growled in response. He knew he had fucked up, destroyed you in ways he was only beginning to comprehend. He would take you yelling at him, telling him how shit he was, but hearing it from Soap, another alpha, was a whole new level of shame and guilt. Simon wasn’t built to hold this much emotion, never taught how to properly deal with his feelings, and he was at his breaking point. His rage was rising, like water that had been left on the stove too long without proper supervision, the bubbles breaking free over the steely confines of the walls he had built around his heart.

The very same confines that had kept him from you.

Simon’s eyes zeroed in on Soap’s hand on your shoulder, and he lost it. He scrambled off of the bed, his movements uncoordinated due to the lack of sleep and sustenance, but still full of the undeniable power that lived within the massive bulk of the alpha. He slapped Soap’s hand away, and grabbed at the straps of his tactical vest. Simon picked the smaller alpha up and spun to press him against the wall, Soap’s head cracking off the drywall. But, it wasn’t enough. Simon hated himself. Hated Soap. Hated everything that he could even remotely tie in as a factor to your comatose state on his bed. Simon gnashed his teeth in Soap’s face, pure, unbridled alpha rage pouring off of him.

Soap just smirked, completely unfazed.

“Oh, I see. Now you can be all protective over ‘er when she’s dying, aye? When it’s yer fuckin’ fault that she wasted away like this? You should’ve been better!” Soap was close to yelling now, his own hands coming up to Simon’s throat. Soap wasn’t going to kill him, no, the only thing that that would accomplish right now is causing more harm to you. But, dammit, if he wasn’t close.

Soap squeezed at Simon’s throat, his alpha claws digging into the mating bite on the side of the larger alpha’s throat. “I should rip that fuckin’ bite right off of ye, ye know that right?”

Simon roared, jerking his neck around to get Soap’s claws as far away as possible from the scent gland that held the imprint of your smaller omega fangs - the last thing truly tying him to you. He was far too gone with his rage, his alpha bursting against the confines of his skin, to even begin to formulate a response. All he could see was the red-hot haze of his rage, of his grief, the anguish that had settled so permanently into his bones over the last three days.

Soap grinned, a mean, sadistic thing that did little more than show off his alpha fangs. It was a challenge, an expression eerily similar to what a predator does when defending their territory. But you were not Soap’s territory. He knew that. He wasn’t trying to vye for your affection or to stake claim on you. His goal was single-minded: get Simon pissed enough to finally admit that he needs you, that he’ll fight for you, for your health, and that he’ll never abandon you this way again.

And if he wouldn’t? Well, Soap wasn’t looking for an omega of his own. Mainly just saw you as a constant in his life, in his pack, but he would single-handedly rip out that mating bite that glared, swollen and red from the strain of the bond, on the edge of Simon’s throat with his own claws and claim you as his own, if it meant fixing you, giving you some sort of stability.

“Ye did this to ‘er! Yer neglect, yer fuckin’ issues, made ‘er this way! All because your head was so far up your goddamned arse you couldn’t see it! She deserves better! She deserves an alpha who will take care of ‘er, not someone who will abandon her for months on end in hopes of getting blown to pieces!”

“I know!” Simon roared in response as he lifted Soap away from the wall again and slammed him back into it. “I know!” His grip on Soap started to falter as tears welled up in his eyes. He let go of Soap with one hand, the smaller alpha falling back to his feet on the ground as Simon scraped his hand across his face to prevent the tears from falling.

“I… I just… I don’t know how to do this, Johnny. It’s not like I grew up with a…” Simon trailed off, his voice thick with tears and regret as he completely let go of Soap to run his hands through his hair in anguish. “My father was an awful man. A horrendous example of an alpha. He… the things he did, Johnny, to me, to Tommy, to my poor fuckin’ mum… the only promise I made to myself when I left that place and let it burn to the ground was to never be like him. And that meant keeping myself as far away from any omega as I possibly could. I never wanted this! And then the brass gave that ultimatum, and shoved us together, and… and I sure as shit wasn’t gonna be the reason that she got kicked out of the place that she worked tooth and nail to get to! I didn’t know how to be an alpha! I didn’t know how to protect her, and I had no one to ask! I just… I… I just didn’t know…”

Soap stood against the wall, mouth agape as he looked down at the massive, trembling form of the man he considered his best friend. Somewhere in his monologue, Simon had completely collapsed onto his knees, his head back in his hands, but Soap was too busy listening to the raw, honest truth falling from Simon’s tear-stained lips to even begin to try and guess when it had happened. Soap was in shock. But, he was at even more of a loss at how to comfort the other alpha.

Soap crouched down beside Simon, his hand awkwardly, yet gently, patting his shoulder as Simon’s hulking form shook from the force of his silent tears, his agony. Soap sighed as he rubbed his other hand over the back of his own neck. What the fuck had he gotten himself into?

“Ghost, I… I think you need to go talk to Price. Maybe get in with the base therapist.”

Simon stiffened under Soap’s touch as those words left his mouth. He didn’t want to go talk to Price, even if he was his captain and a part of his pack. He didn’t want to have to admit to his failures to the same person who gave him orders, signed off on his paychecks. And a therapist? Yeah, he talked to a therapist, he’d just about be signing off on his own discharge forms.

Soap felt it. How his words affected Simon. He sighed again, a low rumble reverberating from his chest in an attempt to provide some comfort to the larger alpha. It was normally a move reserved for comforting a pup, or a distressed omega, but Soap was truly at a loss of what to do here. He had never seen Simon break down like this.

“Ghost, Price can help. He’s been with his bonnie lass for years, and they’re happy with pups runnin’ ‘round. Just… you can’t keep doin’ this to ‘er. And if that means you need direction, need to see how to be an alpha… at least talk to Price. She deserves an alpha who can be there for her, at the very least.”

Simon nodded slowly, wiping his hand across his face again. He felt weak, like a failure, but he knew he had to try.

You never knew what you had until it was gone.

Yeah, well, he knew now. And he wasn’t ever going to let it go again.

Simon lifted his head, his watery brown eyes meeting Soap’s determined baby blues. There was still anger in Soap’s eyes, but he was shoving it away. No point in kicking his friend while he was already down.

“I… I can’t just leave her here.”

“I’ll stay with her,” came Soap’s immediate response. You had sought solace in him over the last few months, and as another alpha from your pack, you would probably be the most comfortable with him around, even if your alpha was gone.

Hearing Soap’s immediate reply made something in Ghost’s alpha twist with distress, aching at the idea of another alpha taking care of his omega, even if it was another member of his pack. A low growl born of his alpha’s displeasure of the situation rumbled out of his throat for a moment before he quickly cut it off by clearing it. Simon knew this needed to be done, and sooner rather than later. He had to fix his ways, to see what it meant to truly be the type of alpha that you needed, that you deserved. But, before he agreed, he had to know one thing.

“Do you love her?”

Soap froze, his head rearing back slightly in shock. Did he love you? “What?”

“You heard me. Do you love her?”

“Simon, she’s a part of our pack. She always has been, even before you and her mated. So, yes, I love her, but not… not like that.”

Simon nodded slowly, his joints aching as he stood up to his full height again. Everything hurt. His muscles were sore from lack of movement, sleep, and nutrition, and his heart and soul felt as if they had been ripped to shreds. Your end of the bond felt like it had been shrouded in impenetrable inky blackness, which just made him feel even more empty. Gods, it used to annoy him to no end to feel your neverending presence in his mind, but now he would give anything, his own life, just to feel it again.

Soap breathed out a silent sigh of relief as he saw the acceptance in Simon’s nod. His best friend was going to be okay, both of you would be. He had to believe it. And, in classic Soap fashion, he couldn’t help but try to chip away the sour, somber mood in the room by cracking a joke.

“But, ye fuck it up again, and I really will rip that mating bite right out of ye, ye can bet on tha’.”

Simon glared at him, but it was the first bit of normalcy he had felt in… months. He shoved at Soap’s shoulder, but all it did was make the smaller alpha’s cocky smirk widen.

“Fuck off, Johnny,” Simon mumbled half-heartedly as he pulled off the tank top he had slipped on after you had fallen asleep, and he tucked it gently next to your head to ensure you still had his scent while he was gone. He ran a gentle, almost reverent finger down your cheek, smoothing an errant piece of your hair back behind your ear. He sighed softly, his guilt threatening to break free again, but he quickly stepped back from you and tugged on a sweatshirt. He glanced at Soap, his gaze glinting with a possessive protectiveness.

Soap, knowing exactly what was running through his mind, put his hands up in a placating manner.

“I won’ touch ‘er. Just don’ be gone too long, aye?”

Simon grumbled something under his breath but nodded, grabbing his keys and shoving them in his pocket before he opened the door. He paused in the open doorway with one last, longing glance back at you filled with all of the pain and regret and guilt swirling through his veins before he finally stepped through and shut the door behind him with a soft click.

—

He didn’t want to be here. To be doing this but he would, if it meant fixing you. He stood in front of Price’s office door, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he tried to muster up enough courage to knock. The light was on, so Simon knew Price was in there. Hopefully he was just doing paperwork, and not anything… else.

Simon sighed loudly, scraping a hand down his face before he shook out his arms. He just needed to open the door. And, you know, pour his heart and soul out to the Captain, but that would come after. However, he didn’t get the chance.

“You gonna stand out there all day or are you comin’ in?”

Shit. Simon squeezed his eyes shut for a moment as he took a deep breath. He could do this. For you, he could. He had to. He shouldered open the door, but he kept his gaze on the ratty red carpet of Captain Price’s office. Mmm, low-pile. Probably feel really scratchy on his face when Price inevitably-

“Ah, Simon. I’ve been expecting you.”

Fuck. Simon felt untethered, for lack of a better word. He couldn’t get a read on Price’s expression as the older, greying alpha moved his glasses off of the bridge of his nose and carefully folded the arms in to set them on the giant wooden desk in front of him. Simon made a point to keep his gaze away from the gouged out claw marks on the surface of the desk. Simon swallowed thickly and looked back down at the carpet in front of him. He had never had to ask for help before, at least, not like this. Not anything that meant showing his weakness, his losing hand, the fact that he’s a shit ass alpha.

“Uh, yeah. I… um, sir, I need… help.” Gods, kill him now.

“Yeah,” Price breathed out harshly as he stretched his arms back around his head. “Yeah, I’d say you do.”

Simon winced at Price’s words. He sounded like a disappointed father, or, at least, what Simon imagined a disappointed father would sound like, and he felt like he had been brought into the principal’s office after painting graffiti on the side of the building during recess. He finally brought his gaze up to the older Alpha, taking a deep breath before he spoke.

“Captain, listen, I-”

Price cut him off with a raise of his hand as he stood up. Simon watched with wide eyes as Price grabbed a cigar out of the humidor that had always laid on his desk. Price grabbed his lighter, and placed the cigar between his lips before he turned away from Simon and looked out the window in the back of his office. A few moments later, and Simon heard the shink of the lighter catching, and he watched as a thick plume of dark grey smoke rose above Price’s form.

“You should’ve come to me for help sooner.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Price questioned, looking back at Simon over his shoulder.

“You’ve been running for years, Simon. Even before she came into the picture. And I let you. I shouldn’t have, but I kept hoping you would figure it out. And then, well, you didn’t. And then I watched you continue to close yourself off, to keep your distance. I watched as you brushed her off over, and over, and over again. And, I admit, as the pack leader, I should have stepped in. Should have forced you to stay on base and figure your shit out, but, tactically, it would’ve been a mistake to keep you here. So, we’re here now. What’s happened has happened. How are you going to fix it?”

Simon stood there, slack jawed and wide eyed as Captain John Price just essentially ripped down every single one of his defenses, his excuses, in one fell swoop. He wrung his hands in front of him, feeling exactly like he had been flayed open, all of his weaknesses and failures laid out in the open like intestines.

“I… I don’t know. That’s why I came here. I was looking for… pointers, I guess. Of how to be a better alpha- fuck, how to just be a good alpha. How to treat an omega. I wasn’t ever… I didn’t have good role models for that shit, and I just- well, Johnny said-”

“Will you actually listen?”

“What?”

Price took a deep inhale of the thick, grey smoke and held it as he turned to look at Simon face-on, studying Simon’s shaking form, the wild, lost look in his eyes, before he exhaled. Price kept his face schooled in a neutral expression, but he really did feel for Simon. He had once been a lost alpha like him, confused on how to even begin to take on the responsibility of an omega, how to take care of them. “If we have this conversation, will you actually take what I say into consideration? Or are you going to attempt for a few days, get frustrated, and then give up?”

Simon winced as Price continued to lay into him with that same cold, calculating gaze he used when discussing potential battle plans. Simon sighed softly, letting his head fall back to stare at the ceiling for a moment before he rolled his shoulders and looked at Price. “I have to fix this.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes.”

Price grinned around his cigar and sat back down at the desk, his fingers tracing idly over the claw marks in the surface of the wood. He gestured his arm out, inviting Simon to sit across from him. Simon squeezed into the chair, his large bulk making the chair creak in protest. He leaned back, trying to feign a confident, or at the very least, unaffected air, but all of his thoughts just kept coming back to you, his knee bouncing in a very distracting fashion as he fought every urge to just run back to his quarters, just to check on you.

Price smirked and steepled his hands in front of him, resting his chin on his thumbs. “You’re scared, ain’t ya?”

Simon nodded, biting down on his plush lower lip.

“Good. Means ya care. You’re just shit at showing it.”

Simon’s lips pressed into a thin line, but what could he do? He couldn’t protest the truth. He was already flayed open, might as well attempt to dissect and treat the diseased portions where he has been keeping all of his shit coping mechanisms.

“Did you ever court her?” Price asked, watching Simon skeptically. He could guess at the answer, as the relationship between you and Simon was far from traditional.

“No, I… Price, the brass gave us an ultimatum, you know that. I didn’t have time!”

“Not before, you didn’t, but what about after? You still could have courted her. Maybe then you would’ve trusted each other more, and we wouldn’t all be in this situation. Do you even know her favorite food? Flower? Song to dance to at 3 am in the kitchen? Color?”

With each question, Simon sank further and further into himself. He felt like the worst alpha on the planet. And, honestly, he probably was, or else you wouldn’t be still laying in his bed practically comatose.

Captain Price sighed and rubbed his thumb over the deep-set lines in his forehead. “Alright, well, those are good places to start, I guess, but… being an alpha isn’t all about gift giving and protecting. You have to listen to her. And I don’t just mean the words out of her mouth - although those are still very important - I also mean her pheromones. Her body language. Her microexpressions. All of the things she doesn’t say.”

“What!? How am I-”

Price put his hand up again to stop the tirade that he knew was about to come pouring out of Simon. “You pay attention. That’s it. It ain’t rocket science, Simon. You’ve led how many teams through how many missions? I’m sure you can figure out if one omega prefers dark or milk chocolate.”

Simon sighed loudly, the sound trailing off into a growl. He felt so stupid. He had been too focused on himself, on his own trauma and his own issues that he had completely neglected the bare minimum for you. He had so much to make up for. He slammed his forehead down into the desk in frustration, the force making the pens on the desk jump. “I should’ve just allowed the brass to kick me out. At least then she could’ve been forced to mate someone who could actually provide for her.”

Price shrugged, leaning back in his own chair as he puffed on his cigar. “No point in thinkin’ like that. You guys are mates, and that bond stayed together for a lot longer than I ever thought it would. That means somethin’, you know. So, you’ve really only got one option. You’ve gotta fix it. Listen to her. Pay attention. Make her feel cared for.”

Simon nodded, his forehead still pressed against the cold wood of the desk, but something Price said kept sticking in his brain, ruminating like a dog trying to lick peanut butter off of the roof of its mouth.

“That means something?” Simon asked, looking up at Price, skeptically looking for clarification.

Price just grinned and pretended to zip his mouth shut before waving Simon off. “Go back to your girl. If you still haven’t figured it out in a few weeks, come talk to me. But remember, court her. Especially after all of this. Show her you care. That you can be a good alpha.”

Simon furrowed his brow, not thrilled about not getting an answer about what Price meant, but got up from his seat. He had been dismissed, and all he wanted to do was get back to you.

Courting. Courting. Right. He could do that. Right?

tag list: @kerst666 @misscaller06 @letaliabane @sai-int @itsmeamysworld @massivescissorsthingperson @aeeliy

[lunarriviera]

There's actually a couple more additional aspects that can make a difference, if you're a fiction writer, to help your reader. 1. We all know that the most common narrative tag should be "says" or "said" (depending on what verb tense you're writing in). But given that, it's useful to vary the way that's structured as well, alternating it with the noun/subject:

"Spock, I'm tired of this," Kirk said. "I don't want to go on this way any longer." "I see," said Spock, after a moment. There was a pause. He said, "Would you be willing to explain what is troubling you?"

In this example the verb hasn't changed, but the order in which it's deployed has (though tbh if I weren't making that point I probably would have introduced the third utterance with, "before he added").

2. Vis-à-vis the point about paragraph breaks letting the reader know that someone new is speaking, it's really important to keep the utterances of a single character together. Even when the speech acts are broken up by a fair amount of description:

"Fine," says Watson, shortly. He bends down to the dining table then and concentrates on making his sandwich: brown bread, butter, and a thick layer of strawberry jam. Outside their flat, the starlings are deafening, clustering noisily around Mrs. Hudson's bird feeder. "There's just one more thing, Sherlock," he adds, as he slams the two slices of bread together. "Oh? And what's that," asks Sherlock, not looking around his newspaper.

I often see writers tempted to start a new paragraph at any point between Watson's first and second utterances, but please resist that temptation. Otherwise we're going to have to reread it at least twice to figure out what's going on. Always save your white space for a change of character, in dialogue. (And conversely don't add a space when a character simply changes the subject. If it's still the same character, it's still the same utterance/speech act.)

3. In both of the above examples, the narrative tag comes after the utterance, which is typical, but if you do that too repetitively it gets boring like anything else. Start some paragraphs/sentences with description or exposition, then drop in the utterance. It's best if you go back and forth between these. Changing length of speech acts is very good too! People don't speak in complete sentences anyway.

John didn't respond for a moment, but sat motionless, looking out over the water. When he finally spoke his voice was hoarse. "Why? You owe me that much." "Fine! I'll tell you." This was followed by a bewildering silence during which Rodney walked around in a circle waving his hands, and then stood spluttering inarticulately. "Rodney?" John turned around despite himself. McKay kicked a chair before glaring at him. "You have a master's degree! How are you this dense? Were you ever going to— Sheppard narrowed his eyes. "To what?" "Ask me to marry you!"

I threw in a couple other little tricks in here to keep things moving, though it's pretty terrible as far as dialogue goes. What I usually do is write dialogue, then later try to take out approximately half of it. This is an old hack I learned during a playwrighting class in grad school. We actually had the actors fold their sides in half and only read the first halves of the written dialogue. This will never work, we thought, it won't make any sense. IT WAS INCREDIBLE, PLS TRY IT.

(and no I don't know why everyone in the examples is breaking up i'm a angst-loving pantser okay lbr these men aren't always going to get along)

Writing Tips

Punctuating Dialogue

✧

➸ “This is a sentence.”

➸ “This is a sentence with a dialogue tag at the end,” she said.

➸ “This,” he said, “is a sentence split by a dialogue tag.”

➸ “This is a sentence,” she said. “This is a new sentence. New sentences are capitalized.”

➸ “This is a sentence followed by an action.” He stood. “They are separate sentences because he did not speak by standing.”

➸ She said, “Use a comma to introduce dialogue. The quote is capitalized when the dialogue tag is at the beginning.”

➸ “Use a comma when a dialogue tag follows a quote,” he said.

“Unless there is a question mark?” she asked.

“Or an exclamation point!” he answered. “The dialogue tag still remains uncapitalized because it’s not truly the end of the sentence.”

➸ “Periods and commas should be inside closing quotations.”

➸ “Hey!” she shouted, “Sometimes exclamation points are inside quotations.”

However, if it’s not dialogue exclamation points can also be “outside”!

➸ “Does this apply to question marks too?” he asked.

If it’s not dialogue, can question marks be “outside”? (Yes, they can.)

➸ “This applies to dashes too. Inside quotations dashes typically express—“

“Interruption” — but there are situations dashes may be outside.

➸ “You’ll notice that exclamation marks, question marks, and dashes do not have a comma after them. Ellipses don’t have a comma after them either…” she said.

➸ “My teacher said, ‘Use single quotation marks when quoting within dialogue.’”

➸ “Use paragraph breaks to indicate a new speaker,” he said.

“The readers will know it’s someone else speaking.”

➸ “If it’s the same speaker but different paragraph, keep the closing quotation off.

“This shows it’s the same character continuing to speak.”

[solxamber]

Hello! I have two things to ask:

1, Do you have a Yuusona? If so, what’re they like?

2, Neige request; A Neige with a reader a lot like the delinquent stereotype in anime. Like piercing, cutting class, riding a motorcycle, etc.

Even if you’re not still open for requests, please remember to pace yourself and take care of yourself when writing! You don’t want to burn yourself out, and there’s nothing wrong with taking a break! Remember that you are the person you should aim to please most in your writing, so it should be done on your own timeline. I hope you have a great day :)

hi! i do not have a yuusona rn! and i will take breaks when i need them, thank you for the incredibly kind message!

also this barreled out of control but i hope you like it!

Campus Scandal || Neige LeBlanche

Neige: hopeless romantic. You: begrudging (absolutely willing) participant.

or: Opposites attract— you, the resident delinquent and Neige, the campus golden boy, fall for each other.

w.c: 4k

The classroom was empty when you arrived, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow on the rows of desks. You glanced at the clock, scowling when you realized you’d somehow arrived thirty minutes early.

Mandatory classes weren’t your thing, but attendance on the first day was non-negotiable. Not that you cared much about school rules—your 2% attendance record spoke for itself—but you figured showing up on day one would keep the advisor off your back for a little while longer.

With a sigh, you dropped into the farthest seat in the back, kicked your feet up on the desk in front of you, and pulled your jacket over your head. Might as well get some sleep if you were stuck here. The soft hum of the air conditioning was surprisingly soothing, and soon enough, you were out like a light.

By the time other students began filing in, you were dead to the world, a picture of absolute delinquent indifference. Your tattoos peeked out from under the rolled-up sleeves of your shirt, the silver of your piercings catching the light. The sight of you—motorcycle helmet resting on the floor beside your desk, boots propped up like you owned the place—was enough to send whispers rippling through the room.

“Is that them?”

“Yeah, the one with the bike. I heard they got in trouble for skipping finals last semester.”

“Do they even go here? I swear I’ve never seen them in class before.”

The whispers grew quieter as more students trickled in, each one taking great care to avoid the seat next to you. Nobody was brave enough—or foolish enough—to risk waking you up.

Enter Neige LeBlanche.

Neige was never late. He was the type to set his alarm thirty minutes early, leave the house with a perfectly packed bag, and still have time to pick up pastries for his classmates on the way to school.

So, naturally, he was horrified when his alarm didn’t go off that morning. After rushing through his morning routine at record speed, he burst into the classroom, cheeks flushed and hair slightly out of place—a rarity for him.

The first thing he noticed was that the room was full. The second thing he noticed was the empty seat in the back, right next to someone who looked like they’d walked straight out of a biker gang recruitment poster.

Neige hesitated, clutching his notebook like it was a lifeline. He’d heard the rumors, of course. Everyone had. You were the mysterious rebel who showed up just enough to avoid expulsion, with a motorcycle that could be heard roaring across campus at odd hours of the night. You were intimidating, sure, but Neige wasn’t one to judge people based on appearances. Besides, he didn’t really have a choice.

With all the courage he could muster, he approached your desk and tapped you lightly on the shoulder. "Um… excuse me?"

You stirred, one eye cracking open to glare at him from under your jacket. “What?”

“Ah, sorry to wake you,” Neige said, his voice as soft as ever. “But… is this seat taken? It’s the only one left.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, taking in the rosy flush on his cheeks and the faint scent of sugar and flowers that seemed to follow him. He looked like the kind of person who helped old ladies cross the street and spent his weekends rescuing stray kittens.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, dropping your feet from the desk in front of you. “Do what you want.”

Neige practically beamed. “Thank you!”

He sat down, carefully placing his notebook on the desk, and tried to focus on the professor who had just started lecturing. Tried being the operative word.

From the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help sneaking glances at you. Everything about you screamed cool—your half-lidded eyes, the way your piercings glinted in the light, the lazy slouch of your shoulders like you couldn’t care less about anything or anyone. Even the scowl on your face seemed effortlessly stylish.

For the first time in his life, Neige LeBlanche felt self-conscious. His usually immaculate white sweater suddenly seemed plain. Was he staring too much? He was staring too much. What if you noticed? What if you thought he was weird?

Meanwhile, you were too busy trying to stay awake to notice anything. You caught snatches of the professor’s lecture, but most of it went in one ear and out the other. The only thing you did notice was the faint, almost nervous energy coming from the guy sitting next to you.

“Stop fidgeting,” you muttered, not even bothering to look at him.

“Ah—sorry!” Neige straightened in his seat, cheeks pink.

You rolled your eyes but said nothing more, settling back into your slouch. Beside you, Neige tried not to melt into a puddle of embarrassment. For someone so intimidating, you sure had a way of making his heart race.

And class had only just started.

Neige was screwed.

Absolutely, completely, irrevocably screwed.

Because this—this dizzying rush of warmth in his chest, this fluttering in his stomach, this unstoppable urge to look at you every other second—wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to him.

He’d been on stage in front of thousands without breaking a sweat. He’d received countless love letters and confessions, always accepting them with gentle grace before kindly turning them down.

He was not supposed to be this much of a mess over someone who, as far as anyone knew, only appeared on campus about twice a month. You were a phantom, a ghost of the school roster, a local cryptid people whispered about in the hallways.

And yet here he was, sitting in his room after class, staring at the ceiling and trying to figure out how the universe had conspired to throw him headfirst into whatever this feeling was.

It was your fault, of course. If you hadn’t looked so effortlessly cool napping in that back corner, he wouldn’t be in this situation. If you hadn’t let him sit next to you with that lazy, unimpressed nod, he wouldn’t be losing his mind. And if you hadn’t existed, period—well, Neige wasn’t sure how to finish that thought.

When he walked into class the next day, he half-expected you to be gone, vanishing back into the mysterious ether like you always did. That’s why he nearly stopped in his tracks when he saw you in the exact same spot as before, jacket thrown over your head, looking as indifferent and untouchable as ever.

His heart skipped a beat.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to calm down. It wasn’t a big deal. He was just sitting next to you because there were no other seats. No other reason.

(That was a lie. He absolutely could’ve sat somewhere else. Half the class had seats open now that attendance was starting to dwindle. But Neige LeBlanche wasn’t one to lie—except, apparently, to himself.)

He made his way to the back of the classroom, his footsteps soft as he approached your desk. You shifted slightly under your jacket, one arm draped over your face, but otherwise didn’t react.

“Good morning,” Neige said, his voice gentle.

You peeked out from under your jacket, your expression groggy but still sharp. He thought you might tell him off, tell him to get lost or take another seat. But instead, you just gave him a single nod, as if to say, Whatever. Do what you want.

Neige couldn’t help it—he smiled. Wide and bright, the kind of smile that made his eyes crinkle and his cheeks flush. “Thanks,” he said, sliding into the seat beside you.

You froze.

It wasn’t like you cared what people thought of you. You’d spent years being judged for your tattoos, your piercings, your habit of rolling into campus on your motorcycle with exactly zero regard for the stares or whispers. It didn’t bother you. You liked being the outsider, the delinquent, the one who couldn’t care less about anyone or anything.

So why the hell was your heart pounding so hard just because Neige LeBlanche had smiled at you?

You quickly averted your gaze, pretending to focus on some invisible speck on your desk. It was just a smile. A stupid, friendly smile. Nothing to freak out over.

But it wasn’t just the smile. It was the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the way the soft flush on his cheeks made him look even more radiant, the way he looked at you like you were something more than a rumor or a passing shadow.

“What's that stare for?,” you muttered, your voice quieter than you intended.

Neige blinked, startled. “Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, still avoiding his gaze. “Just… nothing.”

Neige nodded, biting his lip to keep from smiling again. He didn’t want to push his luck. But as he opened his notebook and started jotting down the professor’s notes, he couldn’t help stealing another glance at you from the corner of his eye.

You were sitting there, pretending to be unfazed, but the corners of your lips were slightly quirked.

And suddenly, Neige didn’t feel so screwed after all.

It was freezing.

Neige tightened his scarf as the cold bit at his cheeks, his breath visible in the night air. He shuffled down the street, the empty to-go cup in his hand a sad reminder of his dorm’s coffee machine betrayal.

He couldn’t believe this was how his midterms week was going—a late-night coffee run because he couldn’t stay awake long enough to finish his notes.

The streets were quiet save for the occasional car passing by. Neige adjusted his scarf again, grumbling softly to himself, when the unmistakable roar of a motorcycle engine split through the silence.

He turned his head just in time to see a bike pull up beside him, its rider clad in the usual mix of leather and defiance that made you impossible to miss.

“LeBlanche,” you called, your voice cutting through the cold air. “What the hell are you doing out here at this hour?”

Neige blinked, startled. “I, um…” He held up his cup like it was a shield. “The coffee machine in the dorm broke. I needed—”

You rolled your eyes. “Get on.”

“What?”

“Get. On.” You jabbed a thumb at the empty space behind you. “I’ll drop you at the coffee shop and back. You’ll freeze your ass off walking like this.”

Neige hesitated. It wasn’t like he was scared—okay, maybe he was a little scared—but it wasn’t every day someone offered him a ride on their motorcycle.

“C’mon, it’s cold,” you added, impatience flickering in your tone. “You don’t want to get sick before midterms, do you?”

That was all the convincing he needed. Awkwardly, he swung his leg over the bike and settled behind you, clutching his cup like it was his lifeline.

“Hold on tight,” you said, your voice firm.

“Oh, uh, okay.” Neige hesitated again, then gingerly wrapped his arms around your waist. His cheeks flushed as he realized how close he was to you. The warmth of your jacket, the faint scent of leather and something faintly sweet—it was… distracting.

When the engine roared back to life and the bike shot forward, Neige yelped and instinctively clung to you tighter, practically burying his face in your back.

You felt his grip tighten, his forehead resting against your shoulder, and for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, you didn’t tell him he could’ve just held onto your shoulders instead.

The ride was quick, the cold air biting at your face as you sped through the empty streets. You pulled up outside the coffee shop, parked the bike, and glanced back at him. “C’mon.”

Neige scrambled off, looking a little dazed but mostly exhilarated, and followed you inside. The warmth of the shop was immediate, and the sweet scent of coffee and pastries filled the air.

You both walked up to the counter, and Neige looked over the menu. He ordered some kind of overly sweet monstrosity with whipped cream and caramel drizzle, while you stuck with something more straightforward.

When he tried to pay, you shoved his hand away and slapped your card onto the counter instead. “I got it.”

“But—”

“Don’t argue with me, LeBlanche,” you said, cutting him off.

He looked at you for a moment, then relented with a small, flustered smile. “Thank you.”

The two of you found a table by the window, the silence between you surprisingly comfortable as you sipped your drinks.

Neige, though, was fidgeting. He glanced at you, then down at his mug, then back at you again. Finally, he took a deep breath and said, “Would you… maybe want to do this again sometime? I mean, not because of the coffee machine breaking or anything, but just—”

You raised an eyebrow, cutting him off with a laugh—one that came out louder and more incredulous than you meant. “You’re insane, you know that?”

The way Neige’s face fell made your stomach drop. His shoulders slumped, his smile faltering as he looked down at his mug, and for the first time, you realized how fragile he could look.

You cleared your throat, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I mean, yeah. Sure. We can do this again. Whatever.”

His head snapped up, his eyes wide and hopeful. “Really?”

You nodded, avoiding his gaze and hoping he couldn’t tell how flustered you were. “Yeah. Sure. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

But when he smiled—radiant and genuine, like he’d just been handed the moon—you couldn’t bring yourself to regret your answer.

Neige had a way of looking at you that made your chest tighten, like you were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. It wasn’t the kind of look you were used to—there was no judgment in it, no wariness or fear. Just pure, unfiltered awe, like you’d hung the stars in the sky.

And it scared the hell out of you.

You weren’t blind. You’d seen the way his gaze lingered on you when he thought you weren’t paying attention—the soft smiles he tried to hide behind his coffee mug, the way his face lit up when you walked into class, even on days you were late. It was written all over him: Neige was smitten.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same. How could you not? He was… everything. Kind, warm, patient in a way that didn’t feel forced or performative. He saw the best in people, even you.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it?

Neige was sunshine, pure and untouchable, and you… well, you were the storm cloud everyone avoided. People whispered when you walked by, flinched when you spoke too sharply, or straight-up bolted if you so much as scowled. You were used to it. Hell, you encouraged it. It kept people at arm’s length, where they couldn’t get close enough to disappoint you.

But Neige had never been afraid of you. He talked to you like you were normal, smiled at you like you were someone worth knowing. And now, every time you caught him staring, every time his voice softened when he said your name, you could feel the weight of his feelings pressing down on you.

You wanted him. God, you wanted him. But you knew yourself, and you knew your reputation. People like you didn’t get to keep people like Neige. He’d see the cracks eventually—the temper, the flaws, the parts of you that didn’t match the person he thought you were.

So you let him look. You let him smile. And you let yourself pretend, just for a little while longer, that none of it meant anything.

It was better this way, you told yourself. Better to let him think you were clueless than to risk ruining what you had.

But then he’d smile at you—bright and genuine, like you were the only person in the world—and for a moment, just a moment, you wondered if maybe you were wrong.

The shift in campus perception was honestly more amusing than anything. People used to scatter like birds at the sound of your motorcycle engine; now, they smiled at you nervously, whispered in tones laced with intrigue rather than fear.

You had Neige to thank for that—his perpetual sunshine seemed to have melted the icy rumors that clung to you like a second skin.

Not that you cared. Let them think you were some misunderstood rebel who just needed the "right person" to bring out your hidden soft side. Whatever. As long as no one tried to cross your boundaries, they could make up whatever fairy tale they wanted.

You were mid-thought, hands stuffed into your jacket pockets, when someone bumped into you. Instinctively, you reached out, steadying them before they could stumble.

"Ah, thank you!" they said, looking up at you with wide, shy eyes, a faint blush coloring their cheeks.

And then they smiled.

That was new. Usually, people avoided eye contact like their lives depended on it, let alone smiled at you. You stood there, blinking, thrown off by the sheer normalcy of the interaction.

It was in this moment of confusion that you noticed Neige in the distance, his usual radiant expression frozen mid-bloom. He was staring, though his smile quickly returned—but something about it was... sharper. Too sweet, like honey laced with arsenic.

Before you could process it, Neige was suddenly beside you, his sugary demeanor dialed up to eleven.

"Ah, pardon me," he said with a voice so warm it could melt glaciers. He turned to the person you'd caught, his hand gently pulling theirs from your grasp. "Thank you for keeping them company, but we'll be on our way now!"

The stranger opened their mouth to protest but quickly thought better of it under Neige’s disarmingly sweet gaze.

Without missing a beat, Neige hooked his arm around yours and steered you away, his grip firm, yet not tight enough to hurt.

"Coffee?" he asked brightly, as if nothing had happened.

You at him, raising a brow. "You good?"

His smile didn’t falter, though his hold on your arm didn’t either. "Of course! I just thought we’d get a head start before it gets crowded."

You weren’t buying it. His cheerful tone was laced with something you couldn’t quite place—possessiveness? Jealousy?

Whatever it was, it made your heart skip in a way you weren’t ready to acknowledge.

The weight of Neige's silence sat heavy between you as you parked your bike and pulled him gently to a quieter corner of campus, away from prying eyes and ears. His hand was still gripping your arm like a lifeline, but he avoided your gaze like he thought it might shatter him.

“Okay, what’s going on?” you asked firmly, voice softer than you thought yourself capable of. “Just spit it out, Neige. What happened?”

He shook his head, his hair falling slightly into his eyes, still refusing to meet your gaze. Frustration bubbled up, but it wasn’t directed at him—it was at the tears threatening to spill over in his red-rimmed eyes.

You sighed, stepping closer, and placed your hands on his face, tilting it up so he couldn’t avoid you anymore. “Look at me,” you urged, voice gentler now. “Neige, tell me what’s wrong. Who hurt you?”

The dam broke. Tears welled up and fell freely, and he didn’t say a word before throwing his arms around you, burying his face in your chest. His grip was tight, desperate, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around him, shielding him from whatever invisible storm he was weathering.

“Neige,” you murmured, your voice soft yet insistent as you ran a hand over his hair. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just breathe, alright?”

You stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, his body trembling against yours as he clung to you. Slowly, his breaths evened out, and the tension in his shoulders began to ease.

When you finally pulled back enough to look at him, his eyes were still glassy, his cheeks flushed from both the crying and how close you were holding him. You wiped his tears away with your thumbs, your touch careful, your voice low. “Tell me what happened.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes searching your face like he was committing it to memory. Then, without warning, he leaned in and kissed you.

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. His lips were soft, desperate, and warm against yours, and for a split second, you froze, completely blindsided. But then everything you’d been holding back—every stolen glance, every lingering moment, every unspoken word—burst out of you all at once. You grabbed his jacket, pulling him closer, kissing him harder, pouring all the feelings you’d been too scared to admit into that single moment.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, lips swollen and faces flushed. Neige’s wide eyes met yours, his voice trembling as he finally spoke.

“I-I thought I was losing you,” he confessed, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I’ve liked you since the day I said hello to you, and I thought—when I saw you with someone else—that maybe I wasn’t as special to you as you were to me. And it hurt. It hurt so much.”

Your heart clenched as you cupped his face again, your thumb brushing gently along his cheek. “Neige, you’re the most special person in my life. I’ve liked you too, but I held myself back because of your reputation. I didn’t want to ruin how everyone sees you.”

His brow furrowed, and for the first time since you’d known him, Neige looked genuinely upset—though it was more at your reasoning than at you. He raised a hand and gave you a weak punch to the shoulder, his pout oddly adorable. “You don’t get to decide what’s good for me,” he muttered, his cheeks still red.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, pulling him close again. “Okay, okay. That’s fair. Then let me ask you this: Neige, will you be mine?”

The tears welled up again, but this time, they were accompanied by a bright, teary-eyed laugh. “Yes,” he said, his voice cracking as he buried his face into your neck, holding onto you like he never wanted to let go. “Of course, yes.”

The campus was abuzz the moment you and Neige stepped onto the quad together, hand in hand. Conversations hushed, heads turned, and phones subtly (or not-so-subtly) appeared to capture the moment.

There you were, the campus’s local delinquent, the untouchable cryptid who never gave anyone the time of day, walking side by side with Neige LeBlanche, the golden boy who could charm the birds out of the trees.

But what really sent the gossip mongers into a frenzy was how soft you looked. Gone was the usual detached scowl, replaced by a faint flush on your cheeks, your usual sharp demeanor melted into something almost bashful.

And Neige? Oh, he was radiant as ever, but there was an unmistakable air of triumph in the way he held your hand—a sweet, subtle smugness in his satisfied smile as he glanced at you, completely wrapped up in your presence.

The whispers grew louder with every step:

“Is that…?”

“Are they holding hands?!”

“No way. Them?!”

“Neige really bagged them?”

“They really bagged Neige?”

But honestly, who cared? You sure didn’t. Not when Neige looked at you with that gentle, heart-stopping smile, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of your hand as if to remind you he was there.

The rumors, the stares, the whispers—they all faded into white noise. None of it mattered when you had that smile aimed at you, lighting up every corner of your world and making you fall for him all over again with each passing second.

Masterlist

[itsnesss]

𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧 | minho (xo,kitty) × fem!reader

summary | during a weekend getaway, unspoken tension between you and minho comes to a head despite his relationship. a stolen kiss leaves you conflicted, torn between your feelings and doing what’s right

warnings | fluff, infidelity, tension, kisses, emotional conflict

word count | 1.6 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The invitation arrived unexpectedly at night. You were about to finish your tasks when your phone buzzed with a message in the group chat you shared with your friends.

Min Ho: "Hey, losers. This weekend, I’m inviting you to my dad’s cabin. Before you start making pathetic plans, confirm who’s coming. It’s going to be epic."

You stared at the message, surprised. Min Ho didn’t usually organize things like this… or at least, he didn’t invite everyone. Yuri was the first to reply.

Yuri: "Of course, we’re coming! Although I can’t believe you’re being generous. Is this a joke?"

Juliana: "I’m in! I wouldn’t miss it!"

Q: "Count me in."

Then, a message from Stella, his girlfriend, appeared.

Stella: "It’ll be fun. 💕"

For a moment, you hesitated. There was something about the idea of spending a weekend with Min Ho that made you feel… nervous. For months, there had been this strange tension between you two: glances that lasted longer than they should, little jokes only you understood, and an electricity you tried to ignore. But he had a girlfriend. And you weren’t that kind of person.

Still, you finally typed: "I’m in."

Min Ho: "Good choice. See you Friday at 5 PM. Don’t be late.

The weekend came quickly. Everyone gathered in the KISS parking lot, where Min Ho waited with his cars. Stella took the passenger seat, and you ended up in the back, squeezed between Yuri and Juliana. During the ride, Min Ho drove with a confidence that was as infuriating as it was attractive, throwing sarcastic comments that seemed aimed directly at you.

"Ready for the best weekend of your life?" he asked, briefly glancing back at you with a smug grin.

"I don’t know, Min Ho. You’ll have to try really hard to impress me," you replied, crossing your arms.

The "cabin" turned out to be a luxury villa in the middle of the forest, with huge windows, modern furniture, and a lake view straight out of a postcard. "Welcome to paradise," Min Ho said, spreading his arms wide.

The afternoon passed with board games, walks by the lake, and laughter. Stella was more interested in her phone than the group, leaving Min Ho free to talk to you more than he should have. His comments seemed harmless, but there was something in his tone and the way he looked at you that made your heart beat faster than usual.

When night fell, Yuri suggested using the outdoor jacuzzi. "It’s the perfect way to end the day!"

"I hope you all brought decent swimsuits," Min Ho said, throwing you a teasing look.

"I hope you talk less," you shot back, meeting his gaze.

The jacuzzi was surrounded by warm lights that gave the garden a tranquil atmosphere. Everyone got in, laughing, and for a while, you managed to relax. Min Ho, as always, dominated the conversation with exaggerated stories, but his eyes kept finding yours. That invisible connection you’d both been ignoring was there, growing stronger by the minute.

One by one, your friends began to leave the jacuzzi. Yuri and Juliana were the first, saying they were cold. Then Q, who yawned dramatically before saying goodnight. Finally, Stella said, "I’m going to bed, love. Don’t stay too long," planting a kiss on Min Ho’s cheek before disappearing into the villa.

Now, you were alone with him. You tried to focus on the starry sky, but the silence between you was too heavy. Finally, Min Ho broke the ice.

"Why do you always do that?"

You turned to him, confused. "Do what?"

"Pretend like nothing matters to you," he said, leaning against the edge of the jacuzzi as he stared at you.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about, Min Ho," you replied, crossing your arms.

"Yes, you do," he insisted, with that infuriating smile that made your heart race and drove you crazy at the same time.

"If you’re looking for a fight, find someone else," you retorted, turning your gaze back to the water.

But he didn’t back down. "I’m not looking for a fight. I just want to understand why you act like you don’t feel the same way I do."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Min Ho, you have a girlfriend."

"That doesn’t answer my question," he said, leaning a little closer to you.

You looked him straight in the eye, trying to stay calm. "Because it doesn’t make sense, Min Ho. We’re different. You’re… you. And I don’t want complications."

"Complications?" he repeated, as if he couldn’t believe it. "Is that what you think I am?"

"No," you admitted softly. "But all of this would be. I don’t want to be the reason someone gets hurt."

For a moment, Min Ho didn’t say anything. He just looked at you, a mix of frustration and something else in his eyes. Finally, he spoke. "Do you know what your problem is? You always try to do the right thing, even when it’s not what you want."

"And that’s a bad thing, according to you?" you replied, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but…" he began, then stopped. He sighed, as if he was about to confess something important. "I’ve been trying to ignore this for months. But every time I’m near you, it’s like nothing else exists."

His words left you breathless. You wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. And then, before you could think about what you were doing, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was slow, intense, and full of everything you both had been holding back. His hands gently cupped your face, while the world around you seemed to disappear. But just as you were starting to lose yourself in the moment, reality hit you like a bucket of cold water.

You pulled away abruptly, your heart pounding. "This shouldn’t have happened," you said, moving away from him.

Min Ho looked at you, confused. "Why not?"

"Because you have a girlfriend, Min Ho. Stella trusts you. I can’t be that person."

"And what about what I feel? Or what you feel?" he asked, his voice softer this time.

"That doesn’t matter. It can’t matter," you whispered, your eyes filled with a sadness you couldn’t hide.

You quickly got up, wrapping the towel around your body. "I’m sorry, but this isn’t right."

Without waiting for a response, you walked back to the villa, leaving Min Ho alone. His words, and the warmth of his kiss, echoed in your mind as you walked away. This shouldn’t have happened. It couldn’t happen. And yet, a part of you wished things were different.

[supernotnatural2005]

Cherry Pie

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean's feeling blue when he believes you have forgotten his birthday... or have you?

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Swearing, SMUT!! (18+ONLY) fluff.

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAN WINCHESTER!! 🎉 in honour of @scoobydoodean 's birthday party for Dean 2025 post, I have wrote a little something for our favourite hunter. Boy it's a ride 😅 but I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope you enjoy. ☺️

Masterlist

Dean wasn’t one for birthday celebrations. To be honest, he’d never truly experienced one—not in the way most people did. Growing up in the life of a hunter didn’t leave much room for cake, candles, or balloons. Birthdays were just another day, marked by a new set of scars, another hunt, or a quiet night spent patching himself up. 

In his adult years, if he wasn’t in the middle of a case, he’d spend the night nursing a beer in some dimly lit bar, convincing himself he didn’t care. If he was lucky, he’d even find someone to warm his bed for the night, a fleeting distraction that never really filled the void. Birthdays were hollow, just another tally to another year alive.

But then, everything changed when he met you.

You’d stormed into his life like a hurricane, dismantling his defences and staking a claim on his heart before he even knew what hit him. At first, your insistence on making every occasion special baffled him.

He’d brush off your plans with a dismissive shrug, insisting he didn’t need all the fuss. But you were relentless. You made it your mission to show him he was deserving of celebration—of love—and you did it with such conviction that, slowly but surely, his walls began to crumble.

It wasn’t easy for him to accept at first. The scars of his past ran deep, and the idea that someone would go out of their way just for him felt foreign—almost wrong. But you had a way of breaking through his stubbornness with a smile, a laugh, or a simple touch that reminded him he wasn’t alone anymore. Over time, you turned his scepticism into something unexpected: anticipation.

However, as he shuffled into the kitchen that morning, seeing as you weren’t in bed when he woke up, he couldn’t help but glance in your direction, half-expecting some grand gesture or, at the very least, a good morning kiss. Instead, you barely looked up from the coffee machine, murmuring a quick “morning” before heading out, muttering something about reorganising supplies, leaving him confused beyond comprehension.

The rest of the day was no different. Every time Dean tried to strike up a conversation, you were already onto the next task—cleaning, organising, cataloguing. By lunchtime, he’d given up entirely, retreating to the war room with a beer in hand.

Dean told himself he didn’t care. It was just another day, after all. But the lack of acknowledgment, at all, from you stung more than he wanted to admit. He kept replaying moments from the day, wondering if he’d done something to upset you. Maybe he’d said something stupid. Maybe you were just tired of him? The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

By the time evening rolled around, Dean was nursing his third beer and wallowing in a cocktail of self-doubt and resignation. “Figures,” he muttered to himself, leaning back in his chair. “Not like it matters anyway.”

But the ache in his chest told a different story. Maybe it was childish to sulk, but it was you who had made him this way. He was happy going on not caring, he didn’t need it. But you had somehow made him want it.

He eventually dragged himself to the kitchen for another drink. However, when he opened the fridge, his eyes landed on a folded note taped to a bottle of beer. Frowning, he pulled it off and read it:

“Beers on me, birthday boy. First clue: Where you pretend to ‘hit your mark’.”

Dean blinked at the note; it took him a minute to realise you’d been playing a game this whole time. He released a scoff of disbelief as well as slow smile creeping across his face. Boy did he feel dumb. Of course you wouldn’t forget.

A jolt of giddiness as well as warmth sparked in his chest, until he reread the note. “Okay, smart-ass,” he muttered, pocketing the paper.

He made his way to the armoury, scanning the shelves until his eyes landed on a second note taped to a shotgun.

“Nice work. Next stop: The place where you steal my snacks.”

Dean chuckled, especially at the hand drawn angry face. Shaking his head, he headed toward your bedroom. Sure enough, another note was waiting on the little snack box you stashed in your top draw.

“Getting warmer. Now, find the place where you brood the most.”

“That’s a low blow,” he grumbled, making his way to the war room. The next note was tucked under a stack of books on the table.

“Last one, Dean. Head back to where you lay your pretty little head at night.”

Dean laughed outright this time, pocketing the final note before heading to his room. When he pushed the door open, he stopped dead in his tracks.

The room was transformed. Strings of fairy lights crisscrossed the walls, casting a warm, intimate glow. On the desk to his left sat a cooler of his favourite beer, what looked to be a homemade baked pie. Apple, from the sweet and cinnamon’y scent, and a small box wrapped in colourful paper with a neatly tied with a bow. 

You stood in front of the bed, dressed in a pretty silk robe; your smooth legs bare, leaving him wondering if the rest of you was underneath, with your hands clasped nervously in front of you, a shy smile on your face.

“Happy birthday, Dean,” you said softly.

Dean stepped into the room, his eyes taking in every detail in awe. “You did all this?”

You nodded. “I… uh, baked the pie early this morning. That’s why I wasn’t here when you woke up. And I know it’s small but, here.” You handed him the gift, a nervous tick in your movements.

Dean took the box from your hands, his calloused fingers brushing yours. He turned it over, examining it with curiosity before shooting you a questioning look.

“Open it,” you scolded playfully, a giggle slipping out as he raised the box to his ear and gave it a testing shake. He smirked at your reaction but obeyed, tearing into the wrapping paper. He set the crumpled remains aside carefully, revealing a plain box underneath. Sliding off the lid, he pulled out a cassette tape.

It was labelled in your handwriting: ‘Dean Winchester’s Playlist.’

“I compiled all your favourite songs onto one tape… you know, for the longer drives. I figured it might come in handy,” you said, shrugging nonchalantly, though your insides churning with anxiety.

Dean’s smile was soft, almost reverent, as he looked at you, then back at the tape, cradling it like it was something precious. You always found new ways to surprise him. “I love it.”

“Wait,” he said suddenly, as a thought came to mind from a few days ago. “Is this why you ‘borrowed’ my box of tapes to reorganise them?” he asked, making air quotes with his fingers.

You grinned. “Guilty.”

Dean chuckled, a deep, warm sound that made your heart flutter. “I thought it was strange when you returned them, and they didn’t look any different.”

You bit your lip, the memory of sneaking around to plan this flashing through your mind. It had been no easy feat keeping it a secret, especially when you were together so often. And then this morning, when you kept up the facade not acknowledging his birthday, all in a ploy to get things ready.

You were thankful for Sam helping you place the notes whilst you got the room ready.

“Unorthodox methods had to be taken,” you said with a teasing glint in your eye.

“And here I thought you forgot,” Dean murmured, shaking his head. A pang of guilt crossed his face, knowing now how much effort you’d put into this.

“Forget your birthday?” you teased, though your tone was soft. “Not a chance.”

Dean’s smile softened as he took a step closer to you, setting the tape back on the table. “You didn’t have to go through all this, you know.”

“I wanted to,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, everything else faded. His green eyes shone in the glow of the fairy lights, filled with an emotion so raw it made your breath hitch.

“You’re something else,” he said, his voice thick with feeling as he reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face. His hand lingered, cupping your cheek as his thumb gently traced your skin.

And when his lips met yours, it was soft, almost tentative, as if he was savouring the moment. But as you responded, his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

The kiss deepened, a slow-burning fire igniting between you. Every ounce of tension from the day melted away, replaced by the warmth of his touch and the passion that simmered just beneath the surface.

You were lost in the moment, captivated by the way he held you, kissed you, made you feel as though you were the only thing that mattered. His free hand found your waist, anchoring you to him as he poured every unsaid word into the kiss.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and dazed, you managed a soft laugh. “I have one more surprise,” you mumbled, though it was hard to form a coherent thought when he was looking at you like that.

Dean’s arms tightened around you, his lips brushing against your jaw and trailing to your neck. “And what’s that?” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky.

You giggled, placing your hands on his chest to gently push him back just enough to speak. “You’re going to have to let me go first.”

He groaned dramatically but stepped back, his hands lingering on your waist. “This better be good,” he teased, a playful grin on his face.

“Oh, I’m positive you’ll think so.” You grinned over your shoulder as you pulled out a small box you had hidden behind the bedside table. Dean raised a surprised brow, only now just realising now how cunning you actually were. 

You opened the box and dumped the contents onto the bed. Dean walked over and stood behind you, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders as he examined what you had. Various bottles of scented oils and lotions spilled across the mattress, and he frowned in confusion.

“What’s all this?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

You turned to look at him, your grin widening as you leaned back slightly against his chest. “It’s for you,” you said simply.

“For me?” His brows furrowed further, though there was a hint of amusement and wonder in his eyes.

“It’s the next part of your surprise,” you murmured, your voice soft and teasing as your hands glided up his chest and over his broad shoulders. Your fingertips pressed into his muscles gently but with purpose, kneading just enough for him to feel the hint of your intentions.

Dean’s eyebrows lifted, his lips curving into that familiar boyish grin that always made your heart flutter. “A massage?” he asked, his tone tinged with playful curiosity but unmistakable enthusiasm.

“Mmhm,” you confirmed, stepping back with a bright smile. You moved toward the bedside, gathering a neatly folded stack of towels he hadn’t even noticed sitting off to the side.

Dean watched you with growing intrigue, his eyes flickering between the towels in your hands and the way you were now spreading them out across the middle of the bed.

“Just making sure the sheets don’t get ruined,” you replied with a sly grin at his questioning look. “These oils might smell good, but I don’t think they’re exactly laundry friendly.”

Dean chuckled, shaking his head with amused disbelief. “You’ve really thought this through, huh?”

“Damn right I have,” you shot back, your grin widening as you pointed toward him with playful authority. “Now, Winchester, off with the layers.”

Dean’s grin turned roguish, a familiar spark of mischief lighting up his green eyes. Slowly, he shrugged off his flannel, letting it fall to the floor before pulling his T-shirt over his head. His broad, toned chest came into view, the scars scattered across his skin telling stories of battles fought and survived. You bit your lip, letting your gaze linger a second longer than you intended.

Dean noticed—of course, he did. His smirk deepened, and the heat in his gaze was unmistakable as he kicked off his boots and slid his jeans down, leaving him standing there in nothing but his boxers.

“Face down,” you instructed, your voice steady despite the flutter of anticipation in your chest.

Dean tilted his head, giving you one last cheeky grin before doing as you asked. His strong, bowed legs carried him toward the bed with an easy saunter, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his muscles flexed and shifted with every step.

He stretched out on the bed with a low, satisfied groan, his back muscles contracting briefly before settling into the soft towels beneath him.

“Man,” he muttered, his voice muffled slightly by the pillow. “This is already shaping up to be the best birthday ever.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you grabbed one of the bottles of oil laying on the other side of the bed. With a quiet squeeze, you poured a generous amount into your palm, rubbing your hands together to warm the liquid. The rich, earthy scent of sandalwood mixed with the comforting sweetness of vanilla, filling the air between you.

Carefully straddling his hips, you started at his shoulders, your hands gliding over his skin in slow, deliberate movements. The tension in his muscles was evident immediately, knots hardened from years of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders—both literally and figuratively.

“Damn, Baby,” you murmured, pressing your thumbs into a particularly tight spot between his shoulder blades. “How are you even walking around like this?”

He groaned at your touch, his head turning slightly to the side. “Years of practice. That, and the occasional beer.”

You chuckled softly, your movements becoming more purposeful as you kneaded the stubborn tension from his shoulders. “Not tonight,” you whispered. “Tonight, you’re going to relax.”

Your hands moved with intention, gliding down the curve of his spine, pausing to work out each knot and tight band of muscle. The scars beneath your fingertips were rough reminders of everything he had endured, but you treated them with reverence, your touch gentle yet firm.

Dean let out a deep, contented sigh, his body visibly relaxing under your hands. “Where the hell did you learn to do this?” he asked, his voice heavy with gratitude.

“Spent some time watching videos,” you admitted with a grin. “Figured I’d need to bring my A-game if I wanted to impress you.”

“You’ve got nothing to prove, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice low and full of affection.

Your hands moved to his arms next, massaging the strong muscles there before returning to his shoulders for another pass. The sound of his deep breathing filled the room, a clear sign that he was letting himself fully unwind.

As you leaned down, your lips brushed against the shell of his ear. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice rich with warmth and sincerity, the emotion swelling in your chest as your hands continued their devoted exploration of the man beneath your fingertips.

Dean turned his head slightly, his eyes still closed, but the slow, genuine smile that spread across his lips told you he’d heard you loud and clear. It wasn’t just the words—it was the way you said them, with a love so deep it felt like it wrapped around him, soothing the cracks he’d hidden from the world.

Although he was a man of very little words when it came to it, more of a shower than a teller, you knew he felt the same.

The tension seemed to melt away beneath your touch, replaced with the softness of surrender. You lingered at his shoulders, sweeping the area one last time, before sitting upright with a satisfied smile.

Dean’s eyes blinked open at the absence of your hands, his brow furrowing slightly before he rose onto his elbows with a deep groan, rolling his shoulders as if testing how light they now felt.

“Damn,” he muttered, his voice a little rough. “Didn’t think I could feel this loose.”

He turned to look at you over his shoulder, his green eyes narrowing with curiosity at the sly smile playing on your lips.

“On your back,” you instructed, your voice soft but laced with an unspoken promise that made the air between you hum with anticipation.

Dean’s brows lifted slightly, his lips twitching into a grin as he rolled onto his back, letting you slip off him to make space. His movements were deliberate but eager, his gaze never leaving yours. His eyes were hooded, glinting with both wonder and heat as he watched you, waiting for your next move.

You trapped your bottom lip behind your teeth, your gaze smouldering as you reached for the belt of your robe. Slowly, you untied it, letting the fabric part and glide down your body to pool in a crumpled heap at your feet.

Dean’s breath hitched audibly, his chest rising sharply as his eyes roamed over you, drinking in the sight. You were clad in nothing but a satin night-dress that skimmed every curve, the soft fabric clinging in all the right places and leaving little to the imagination.

“Sweetheart,” Dean rasped, his voice thick with admiration and desire, “you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

You stepped closer, your bare feet silent against the floor as you leaned over him, your hands finding their way back to his chest. “Not tonight, Winchester,” you murmured, your lips curving into a teasing smile as you pressed your palms to the solid planes of his body.

“Tonight, I’m going to take care of you.”

Dean’s heart thudded in anticipation, licking his lips as you once again climbed aboard, this time settling snuggly against his crotch. 

He moaned his approval as he realised you’d forgone underwear, the warmth of your slick heat seeped through onto his hardening cock. 

“Fuck.” He cursed at the sight of you. His hands instinctively running along the flesh of your thighs.

“Look at you, all tense again.” You tutted disapprovingly, your lips twitching into a sly smirk. You leaned over to the side of you again, making sure to grind your hips into him as you did. 

His responding moan sent a bolt of heat straight to your core, his hands tightening on your thighs just enough to leave a dull, thrilling ache. The unspoken tension crackled in the air, thick and heady. You shifted slightly, settling back into your previous position, pouring another generous amount of oil into your palm.

You never broke eye contact as you rubbed your hands together, warming the oil between them. The heat wasn’t just from the friction—it radiated between you, an unspoken promise that left your breaths shallow and synchronised.

Then, slowly, you pressed your palms to his chest, letting them glide over the firm, taut muscle beneath. The oil slicked his skin, making your movements smooth and deliberate as you traced the hard planes of his chest and shoulders.

Dean let out a deep, gravelly moan, the sound vibrating through your hands and sending shivers down your spine. His head tipped back slightly, eyes fluttering shut for a moment before they reopened, hazy and half-lidded. He stayed still, patient for once; his hands resting on your thighs, his grip firm but reverent as though grounding himself in the moment.

Your touch shifted between soft and purposeful, your fingers digging into the knots buried deep beneath his skin, ones he didn’t even realise he had in those places. When you reached more tender spots, your pressure softened, your hands moving with care.

All the while, Dean’s gaze was locked on you, flickering between your concentrated expression and the curves of your body. His eyes were dark with desire, but there was something more profound there—adoration, reverence. He was utterly captivated, wholly yours in every possible sense.

To him, you weren’t just beautiful; you were his safe haven, his sanctuary. Every touch of your hands, every gentle motion across his skin, reminded him of how much he was loved, how much he belonged to you.

His chest rose and fell beneath your palms, the rhythm steady but deep, a testament to how completely relaxed he was under your care. For a man who’d spent his life fighting, carrying the weight of the world, and never allowing himself to fully let go, this moment was a rarity.

His heart felt impossibly full, warmth flooding through him in waves. Watching you, feeling you, he was entirely at your mercy. And there was no other place he’d rather be.

His body was sinking again, your, almost professional, hands lulling him into a state of pure blissful relaxation. He’d almost forgot about the feel of your bare pussy, separated by only a thin piece of fabric, against him until you shifted back on your hunches. 

“Hmm.” You frown in though, your expression almost serious. “I think there’s still a part of you that’s not quite as relaxed as I’d have liked.” You punctuate with a role your hips.

Dean groans and drops his head back, his hands quickly finding your hips, feeling rather than guiding the grind of your pussy against his stiff cock. 

“Dammit.” He huffs, both amused and incredibly turned on. “You really are try’na kill me.” 

“I told you.” You smile as you slide off of him again, only to remove his boxers, which he’s happy oblige as you glide them down and off of his legs, dropping them unceremoniously to the floor. You climb back onto the bed, but this time settle between his spread thighs. “I’m going to take care of you.” 

With that you tenderly kiss along his inner thigh, suckling gently at his hip bone before repeating the action the other side. Dean gasps and gawks at you, his hips twitching upwards every time you get near to his aching length. 

Just as he’s about to beg you for more, he feels your lips seal around his leaking tip. He all but cries out. The slow torture of watching you touch his body with so much care and tenderness, all the while feeling the wetness between your legs soak through the front of his boxers, because of that. He’s about ready to burst. 

However, you take your time to suck and lick at the reddened tip, welcoming the salty tang of pre-cum on your tongue with an appreciative moan. Dean fists the sheets beneath him as you work him over with your mouth this time. The sensation is too much and not enough all at once, but again, before he can whine - because that’s what you have resorted him to - you engulf him into your mouth. 

It’s warm and wet and “oh so fucking good”, Dean thinks. You build a steady rhythm, taking him as far as you can go whilst your hand, which was still slick with oil, caresses his balls. 

Dean was a moaning babbling mess, his skin shining with a thin sheen of sweat, his chest heaving, back arching slightly as he fucked up into your mouth. You welcomed it with encouraging moans of your own, sucking him harder, deeper until he was shouting out his climax and spilling down your throat. 

You swallowed everything he gave you, softening your movements as you gently sucked him clean. He hissed at the sensitivity when you finally pulled away, his body going slack and weightless against the mattress. If his heart wasn’t beating so wildly, he was sure he could easily pass out. 

“Relaxed?” you murmured softly, settling against his side. Your hand moved in gentle, soothing strokes over the heated, flushed skin of his chest as he lay there, catching his breath and slowly returning from the blissful haze you’d pulled him into.

Dean let out a shaky chuckle, his chest still heaving slightly. “Holy shit,” he finally managed, turning his head to look at you. His green eyes shone with a mix of awe and disbelief, like he couldn’t quite process how someone could make him feel like that.

You smiled bashfully, your heart swelling with pride at his reaction. “Good?” you teased lightly, though your voice was warm and tender.

“Incredible,” he corrected, his tone reverent. “That was just… wow. I don’t even have words right now.” He let out another breathless laugh, and you couldn’t help but join him, the sound of your shared laughter filling the room with a lightness that made your chest ache.

When the laughter faded, you found yourselves locked in a quiet moment, your gazes tangling. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable; it was charged with the raw connection you both shared. Dean’s face was still painted with the glow of his post-orgasmic bliss, his features relaxed and open in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

Even as a dull ache thrummed between your own legs, you ignored it, content in the knowledge that tonight wasn’t about you. Tonight was for him.

One of his hands reached up to cup your cheek, his calloused thumb brushing tenderly over your flushed skin. The gesture was so intimate, so full of unspoken love, that it sent a shiver down your spine.

His gaze softened further, the warmth in his eyes making your chest tighten. “How the hell did I get so lucky?” he whispered, the words barely audible but carrying the weight of his sincerity.

You didn’t have a chance to respond before he leaned up slowly, his hand guiding you down to meet him. His lips pressed against yours in a kiss that was achingly slow and sensual, the kind of kiss that spoke volumes without needing words.

His lips moved against yours with deliberate tenderness, savouring every second of the connection. The kiss wasn’t rushed or demanding—it was deep, filled with raw emotion, gratitude, and an overwhelming love that poured from him into you.

You sighed softly against his mouth, your fingers threading through his hair as you melted into him, feeling like the entire world had narrowed down to just this moment, just him. However, things quickly began to heat up again.

The kiss grew more needy, more desperate. A new surge of wetness coated your thighs as Dean trailed his lips from your mouth, jaw and to your ear, nibbling on the sensitive lobe until you were a whimpering mess. 

He grabbed your thigh and lifted it to rest against his hip, pulling you flush against him as he did. You gasped in both surprise and pleasure at the feeling of his hardening length pressing against you. 

“Already?” You breathlessly asked, your tone laced with awe and giddiness. Dean hummed in acknowledgement against your neck as his lips sucked and nipped at your most sensitive spots. 

You tugged harshly at his hair as a hand slipped between your bodies, long, thick and callused digits pressing against your swollen clit. You cried out desperately as he began a slow circling motion, tiny shocks of pleasure jolting through your body with each sweep of his fingers. 

Just as you were building, that coil inside you winding tight, his fingers suddenly retracted and you were pushed onto your back. Dean hovered above you, his eyes dark and hooded as he gazed down at you. 

“You know. I have one criticism to make about tonight.” Dean confessed and leaned down to peck your lips once, then your jaw, your neck, your collar bone. You frowned, confused but curious. 

“And what’s that?” You asked a little breathless at his ministrations, and he pulled his head back up to look at you again, a devilish twinkle in his eye. 

“My favourite flavour of pie.” He said almost nonchalant, before he slowly returned to kissing down your body, keeping his eyes on yours as he pulled down the top of your night dress, exposing your tit to him. 

Your mouth opened in a silent moan as he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud and sucked, hard. You arched into his mouth, shivering at the pleasurable pulse travelling down between your legs. 

After lavishing both breasts with his talented mouth, he released you with a soft pop and looked at you again, gradually slipping down your body until his broad shoulders were forcing your legs to part to accommodate him. He slowly slid the hem of your dress up your waist, exposing your soaked pussy to him with a deep hunger in his eyes.

“You’ve always known my favourite is cherry.” He winked, licking his lips before diving in for a taste.

AN: This was so much fun to right. I wish Dean could have really been shown this much love on his birthday. 😭 As always let me know what you think and thank you for reading ❤️

Dean Winchester Tag List:

@bettystonewell , @lyarr24 , @nancymcl

[gracie-eilish]

Take me out, and take me home…

an: this is kinda long!! but here is my official fic based on Lover by Taylor Swift:) any blue text is Billie’s dialogue and any pink is readers. I hope you enjoy this one!! seven and Guilty as Sin are both coming soon. Peachy (pt. 2) is also going to be on the way! i wasn’t originally expecting you guys to want a part two so i’ll get writing!! 🥰✨🍑

warnings: intoxication mentioned, slight nudity but no smut, so much fucking fluff it’s like a unicorn threw up cotton candy in here.

alsoooo thank you also for over a hundred followers! that’s so many beautiful besties!! i’ve loved writing about billie and chatting with so many of you over the last few weeks and i can’t wait for more!! love ya💋

🩷🥂🫧💋✨

“Take me homeeeee” You slurred, stumbling out of the party you and Billie had just attended. Billie had an arm slung around your waist while you had an arm around her shoulders.

“We’re going home baby, I promise,” Billie replied with a giggle at your disheveled state. Even drunk as can be, she found you so beautiful. Your rosy cheeks even rosier, your big wide eyes now hooded and hazy and full of love, and the sleepy smile plastered on your face made her just wanna kiss it right off of you.

“Heyy babyyyyy? I have.. a very important question for… you.” You looked back up at her stoically, booping her nose as you said “you.” Billie planted a kiss to your temple to try to hide her giggle.

“What baby?” She quickly bent down to grab your waist again as you stumbled backward, making you burst into the most melodic sounding giggles.

“I’m your baby right?” This sent Billie into a laughing fit. The attempt at a serious look on your face combined with the cutest little question, she couldn’t help it.

She pressed kisses to your cheek and temple in between declarations, “My baby, *kiss* my princess, *kiss* my girl, *kiss* my angel, *kiss* my magical unicorn angel baby princess,” she added the last one with a giggle. That was your little nickname for anyone in your life who meant something to you. Your best friends, Billie of course, your little cat. And it never failed to make Billie laugh when she heard it.

“Why do you ask my love?” She questioned after your giggles calmed down again.

“Because I’m like… soooo many things right? But I don’t have a thing for you, you know? Like I need a thing for you. And I was thinking so hard in my brain tonight and I think I figured it out.” You stated matter of factly.

Billie just nodded for you to continue, holding you up a little tighter, and pushing some hair out of your face.

“You, Billie girl, are my-“ You got cut off by Billie’s phone dinging, signaling her driver was here. Without rudely interrupting you, Billie carefully walked you both over to the car, and carefully guided you into the back seat before scooching in herself.

“You warm and cozy mama?” Billie asked, fiddling with the heater in the back, kissing your forehead after you nodded in confirmation.

The ride back home was quiet, a stark contrast to the buzz of the club you two were just in, as well as to your own drunk ramblings. Some people liked to run when drunk, others call exes, and others just fall asleep. Not you. You were always a bundle of energy, ready to chit chat with anyone who would listen, and Billie found it adorable, never once silencing your tipsy rambles even as you both tried to fall asleep at 4am.

“Billie?”

“Yeah baby?”

“I feel like… I feel like I’ve known you for like.. twenty years. But also that’s like not possible. I’ve only known you for real, for like twenty seconds.”

Billie chuckled at your statement. Another little thing you did after drinking, was greatly exaggerate time. For example, if it was the middle of November and someone complained about you still having Halloween decorations up, you’d gasp in shock saying Halloween was “literally like 20 minutes ago.” You two had been dating for about three years now, so Billie just chuckled understanding twenty seconds was three years in your own little drunken time zone tonight.

“Twenty years is a long time baby,” she replied softly, pulling you in closer to her side, letting you rest your head on her shoulder.

“It’s like such a long time. *sigh* Can we still be this close in twenty years?”

This sent both of you into giggles. Billie couldn’t help herself anymore, smothering you in kisses, each one accompanied by a little “mwah!”

“Baby once I get a ring on that finger, we will be this close for a lot longer than twenty years hun.” She pushed some hair behind your ear, watching your cheeky flush under her gaze.

“For ever and ever, you’re my-“

Your conversation faltered again as you pulled up in front of your place. Billie thanked the driver and helped you out of the car before guiding you up to your apartment. Not without few stumbles and bumps along the way.

You were starting to feel a little sleepy but Billie knew you’d get a second wind once you got inside, but she still got butterflies when she felt you wrap your arms around her from behind and rest your cheek on her shoulder as she unlocked the door.

Billie almost jumped out of her skin as you gasped dramatically at something, scaring the shit out of her.

“Baby!” You had your hands on your cheeks in shock, looking back at her as she locked the door behind her.

“We left the Christmas lights up!” You paused before turning back to face the lights. “Until January!”

“Is that a bad thing?” Billie was so confused but went along with it.

“Isn’t that like… against the rules? Christmas was like a million days ago!”

“This is our place, we make the rules.” Your eyes shined up at Billie like she just revealed the meaning to life.

“Oh. My. God. You’re so fucking right babe.”

Billie chuckled and kissed your temple before guiding you to the kitchen and sitting you down on a stool as she got you some water and a small snack.

“Drink up lovie, I don’t want your pretty little head hurting tomorrow.”

As you sipped your water and nibbled on some snacks Billie went into your shared bedroom to get you some pjs and start the shower.

Billie ran her hand under the water to check the temperature before stopping, hearing such a sound come from the kitchen. She dried off her hand before tip toeing back to the kitchen to find the source of the.. sound? song? cry?

“You’re my my my myyyyyyyyyy,” it was you. And your second wind Billie had predicted. You were spinning around on stool singing.. well singing something, only stopping when you caught sight of Billie.

“Babyyyyyy!!! You came back!” You cried out with a huge smile and your hands out, wiggling your fingers as if it would magically will her closer to you. And to your knowledge, it did magically will her closer as she wrapped her own arms around you, kissing the top of your head a few times, chuckling softly.

“I finished my snack and my water. I’m so good at that.” Billie chuckled and simply placed her forehead onto the top of your head.

“You’re killing me here babe.” She said, lifting her head back up and pushing the hair out of your face. You just shrugged nonchalantly before puckering your lips dramatically. Billie smiled adoringly before leaning in and giving you a soft almost angelic kiss, squishing your cheeks a bit too.

“Alright tipsy girl, you wanna go shower and get comfy?” She said holding your shoulders while you nodded. She could tell you were starting to get sleepy, but she knows you’d be grumpy in the morning if you hadn’t showered and you were hungover.

As she guided you into the bathroom, you were humming that little song again, Billie has never heard it before.

“That’s a pretty song your singing there lovie.” She said, helping you out of your clothes.

“Thank you. I’m writing it myself. Right now.”

“Oh really? You wanna sing some more of it for me?”

“Mmm maybe when I’m in the shower. I need to write more words first.” Billie nodded, holding back a laugh.

“Of course, of course. How could I rush such art?” She replied. “Do you want me to come in with you? Need help?”

You gasped and softly nudged her shoulder, “Billie! That’s dirty!” Billie kissed your cheek softly, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Baby it’s not dirty. We had sex in there this morning.” Your jaw dropped and face flushed at Billie’s statement. Your drunk brain not seeming to remember that right now.

“Oh my gosh Billie. You have to promise not to say things like that in front of other people.” You drunkenly pleaded, face totally flushed.

“I promise mama. I save my dirty jokes only for you.” She said with a wink, making you sigh in relief.

“Oh thank god.” Eventually you did in fact pull Billie in there with you. You claimed you didn’t need any help, but you couldn’t deny Billie’s fingers massaging the shampoo into your scalp was heavenly. The rose smell of your shampoo mixed with Billie’s woodsy vanilla body wash she used on you wrapped around you almost as tight as Billie’s arms, making your eyes droopy as you rested your head in the crook of her neck, leaning back into her and she pressed tiny kisses to your own shoulder. Her hands slowly roaming around your body, over your stomach, up to your boobs, a squeeze to your hips, a couple more squeezes on your shoulders and back to your stomach where her arms wrapped tightly, and contentedly.

“You ready for bed angel?” She whispered into your ear, hands giving your hips another squeeze. You just nodded sleepily turning around in her arms to give her a proper hug.

“Thank you by the way,” Your words a bit more steady now as you slowly sobered up.

“For what baby?”

“For saving me a seat at the table tonight. Since I got stuck in traffic. I was nervous everyone else would wanna sit next to you,” You said it so small and sweetly that Billie felt her heart grow ten sizes, knowing that at every table, she’d save you a seat for the rest of her life.

“Oh babygirl,” she cooed, cradling your head closer into her as she hugged you tighter.

She gave you one last kiss to the top of your head before shutting off the water. She stepped out and grabbed your towels out of the little towel warmer and wrapped herself in one quickly, before heading back to you. She shut the shower door again to keep the warm air in as she carefully dried you off a bit before wrapping you in the fluffy towel, with a kiss to your nose.

A comfortable silence filled the room as the two of you got ready for bed. Well really, Billie got ready for bed and then helped you do the same thing. You giggled at her focused face as she carefully dabbed moisturizer to your skin, only silencing your giggles with a kiss making both of you smile.

She had her own giggles watching your droopy eyes fight to stay open as Billie dried your hair with a towel. You absolutely melted into a puddle anytime Billie had her fingers in your hair, so her fingers mixed with a warm fluffy towel was sending you to dreamland.

When she finished, Billie helped you off the counter and gave your butt a little pat as she guided you back to your connected bedroom, shutting off the bathroom light. The two of you changed into some pjs, Billie giggled while helping you with the buttons after you whined not being able to do it right now.

“I can’t see sometimes.” You grumbled as she buttoned them with ease.

“You can’t see sometimes??” Billie asked, raising an eyebrow and biting back a smile.

“Ugh you know what I mean.” You groaned, playfully smacking her hand away once she finished.

After making sure you could get on the bed, Billie quickly went around the apartment, shutting off the lights, making sure your pets were okay, and locking the doors before returning and shutting the bedroom door behind you.

She slipped under the covers, pulling you closer to her, letting you snuggle yourself into her side like a little kitten. Once she was sure you were practically purring like one as well, Billie settled into her own pillow, letting her arm rest on your back.

“Did you write more of your song while you were in the shower?” She asked, squeezing your side quickly.

“Oh my gosh, baby I did and I forgot to tell you.” But it came out more slurred, your eyes were closed and Billie knew it would be minutes before you were fast asleep.

“That’s okay baby. You can tell me now. Sing us to sleep mama,” She whispered, kissing your cheek before settling back in your hold.

“Wait I forgot how it goes.” You were still a little drunk after all. Billie giggled trying to remember your ramblings from earlier in the night.

“I think I remember.. You kept saying “You’re my -“ and then you didn’t finish that bit. And then you were singing it in the kitchen,” Billie opened her eyes to look down at you, you seemed to be asleep at this point, but the slight furrow in your brows told her you were thinking about your little song, so she continued, whispering,

“You’re my, my, my, my….”

“Oh!! You’re my, my, my, my…” you trailed off again.

“Darling, you’re my, my, my, my…”

“Lover.”

[berfgrimm]

staring at the sun | choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x reader

pairing: choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x f!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, sneaking around, hair pulling, pet names, dirty talk, a smidge of self doubt sprinkled around.

note: this is my take on combining a few requests i got, because i got inspired from a couple of edits i saw on tiktok and listening to a tvotr song. i tried writing this a little differently than I normally write, and i had this vision of ‘deleted or extended scenes’ of certain moments described here, which is something i’ve never done before. maybe it’s silly, but if you guys like this then I’ll expand on those scenes and give you some more from this story’s universe. also don’t chat to me about this being pink hair era, it is my favorite so maybe I’ll be writing about it the most. so what. anyway, enjoy!

———————

The first time you kissed Seunghyun was an accident — well, maybe not an accident, because he intended to kiss you, but it certainly was unexpected. It was in the middle of one of the band’s performances when the boys stepped off the stage for a brief break in between songs, and as a stagehand, you were responsible for the hydration of Seunghyun that night. You waited for him at the stage exit, two bottles of water in your hands and a welcoming smile on your face.

When he walked towards you, there was a frenzied look in his eyes; not panicked, but more energized, wired from the show. As much as he likes to keep a stoic demeanor about him during most performances, you know he adores what he does. It brings him a joy that you seldom see in people, and it makes you both jealous and grateful that he’s able to feel such satisfaction — he deserves it.

Seunghyun had a determined walk that night to go along with his intensity, like he couldn’t wait to get off of the stage because he had to do something. You held the bottles towards him as he neared, smiling still. He stopped too close to you, that was the first thing you noticed. You didn’t have a problem with him being in your personal space, not in the general sense of the word anyway. It was more of a disadvantage, maybe a hindrance — you couldn’t operate at 100% with him that close.

It would happen each time Seunghyun even brushed you as he tried to walk by, or when he gave you the friendliest of touches. Your skin would flush, your breath would catch in your throat, and you’d find it hard to even speak. That night was no different, if possible, it was even worse. Not only was he standing in your space, you could feel the heat radiating off of him, he was so close.

“How is it?” he asked, taking a water from your grasp and twisting the cap off. He threw his head back to take a large glug of water; you couldn’t help but fixate on the sweat on his skin, and his throat as he swallowed. Your mouth went dry at the sight. “Well?” You hadn’t realized he was finished with the bottle and was focused on you again, a faint grin on his lips. You couldn’t answer him, your words were caught in your throat and the more he stared at you, the worse it got.

That’s when he leaned towards you, stooping just enough to dip his head closer. The moment felt almost cinematic. The buzz from the fans that still cheered on the other side of the curtain, the bright lights that shone from every direction, the way he paused just before his lips met yours. When you let out a shuddered breath and leaned closer to him, Seunghyun took the hint, and closed the distance between you.

The kiss was soft and quick, just a peck, before he pulled back to look into your eyes. You don’t remember what face you made in response, but it was enough for Seunghyun to place his hand on your hip, gently pushing you backwards until your back hit a wall. You were out of view of anyone who would have walked by, secluded yet surrounded by thousands of people. This time when he kissed you, he was pressed against you harder, more intensely.

He didn’t kiss you like he was frantic, or he needed it, but instead like he was curious, almost scientific. He admitted later that he was nervous but you didn’t get that sense at the time. He didn’t even act like he enjoyed it, and before you knew it, the kiss was done and he was needed back on stage. He took the other water bottle from your hand and was gone before you uttered a word. You were confused to say the least.

Seunghyun didn’t talk to you about it afterwards. The band had another show the following night, and when you stood in the same spot, two more bottles in your hands, you were nervous. As he walked in your direction, you were certain you’d pass out from the way your heart pounded in your chest, but thankfully, your feet were firmly planted.

This time, when he reached you, Seunghyun once again drank a whole bottle of water before planting another kiss on your lips. Since it was a different venue than the night before, the secluded space you shared was no longer an option. Instead, he backed you against a stack of trunks, one hand on your hip to pin you in place.

In the moment, you weren’t sure if it was some sort of fantasy that your brain was making you believe was reality. There’s no way that this highly sought after man would be kissing you in private during his shows. It didn’t make sense. But the kiss was different this time, as he slipped his tongue into your mouth to deepen it briefly. Before you could fully enjoy the kiss, it was over again, and he left you standing alone in seclusion.

That was the start of a tradition. Each night, during their very brief intermission, Seunghyun would meet you backstage and hide behind anything nearby so you could kiss. It was sneaky and clandestine, and it gave you a knot in your stomach each time.

It took you until the fifth night for you to put your hands on him — both hands set simply on his hips; until then, you’d stayed still, too worried that if you tried to touch him, it would spoil the moment. Seunghyun told you later that he felt the same way, overthinking the moments and thinking that if he touched you too much or said anything about it, you wouldn’t want to kiss him anymore.

By the eighth night of kissing in secret, you felt something switch inside of you, and when you put your hands on his hips, you slid them up his body, feeling the heat of his skin under his sweat soaked shirt. You vividly recall the way you could feel his heart pounding as you pressed your hands flat against his chest. He responded by wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

That night, when Seunghyun pulled away from you, that same switch inside of you drove you to grab his belt buckle and pull him in for one last quick kiss. As your lips were connecting, you could see a very small amused smirk on Seunghyun’s lips — at least he wasn’t mad.

Two weeks of kissing and gentle, explorative touching backstage at concerts. Away from your secret rendezvous, you had initially not treated each other any differently; friendly, joking, cordial. But at the end of week two, you started to notice the looks Seunghyun would give you when no one else was looking, along with the way he seemed to linger in your personal space. That made you more nervous than the kissing did.

“Why do you stare at me when the guys aren’t looking?” you asked him one night while he was kissing you. It made him stop altogether, peering into your eyes breathlessly. You were momentarily worried that you’d spoiled it by asking, as neither of you spoke during these moments before. It took him a few seconds of thought before he could answer, during which your eyes didn’t leave his face.

“I want to kiss you all the time,” he admitted. “I think about it whenever you’re around. Sometimes when you’re not.” You blushed, not expecting the softness and candor in his response. “This is my favorite part of each night,” he added.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you asked. Seunghyun nodded, staring directly at your mouth as he waited for you to continue. “I really like doing this in secret,” you began, feeling your nerves spread through your whole body. “It’s sexy.”

You’d never forget the glint in his eyes when you said it, excited and something almost devious. You wished you could have a picture of the way he looked at you, but it ingrained itself in your memory anyway. He looked like he was overcome with desire, for you.

The signal for him to return to stage came far too soon after that. He didn’t get to truly respond to what you had said, but he told you later that it was all he could think about for the rest of the night. You agreed with him, remembering the way that you trembled with excitement at what could come of the conversation.

The next night of the tour something changed. It wasn’t ideal to say the least. One of the other stagehands said they wanted to switch positions, and of course, your manager agreed to the change. You didn’t have time to tell Seunghyun of the change ahead of time, but you still tried to make yourself visible when he exited the stage.

The obvious look of disappointment and confusion on his face would have been funny if you didn’t feel the same way. He had glanced beyond the other stagehand to where you stood, mindlessly rolling up some cables, staring directly at him. He changed the look on his face quickly, shifting back to the stoic persona he usually presented, and acted as though nothing was wrong.

Later that night, after the show ended, you wandered through the corridors of the venue, making sure all of the leftover equipment had been gathered. You were so focused on the task, you didn’t hear Seunghyun sneaking up behind you, so you let out a surprised yelp when he grabbed you and pulled you into a nearby utility closet.

It was pitch black in the room, but you could tell it was him. His breathing, his smell, his energy, it was all around you and as you felt the warmth of his body closing in on you, all you could do was throw your arms around his neck to pull him in.

It was the first time he touched you. Like really touched you. You didn’t miss the slight tremble in his hand as it slid up your stomach, stopping just as his fingertips touched your breast. His hesitancy to not cross a line is what made you feel empowered; you took hold of his hand that barely teased your breast and dragged just a little higher to press his palm against you. He took the hint and wrapped his fingers around it, squeezing gently.

“I hated not being able to kiss you earlier,” he admitted, kissing your cheek as he held you close.

“I got reassigned.”

“I’ll take care of that.”

The way Seunghyun said it, without a single shred of uncertainty, because he knew whatever he would say to the team would happen…the power that he had…

You kissed him again, so worked up with excitement, you bit his lip. Not too hard, but enough to make him chuckle into your mouth. You didn't realize right away, not until he let out a moan, but your hand had worked its way down to touch him through his pants. You worried for a moment that you crossed a line but he was already getting hard before you touched him.

“Is this how you want our first time to be?” Seunghyun asked, kissing your neck as he ground himself against your hand. “In a utility closet? In the dark?”

“You can have me wherever you want me.”

“But you love the secrecy,” he teased. “You love hiding but you love the thought of being caught. You love being my secret, don’t you, princess?”

“I do,” you admitted. Seunghyun let out a soft gasp, a little rumble of that deep voice, as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You’re a good girl,” he said, gently. “But we don’t have time to do this here.” You were disappointed, of course, but you knew he was right. You had a job to do and it would be suspicious for him to be missing for too long. “We have two days off of the tour next week,” he continued. “In Melbourne. We’ll get a hotel.”

“Okay,” you replied, breathless from excitement.

“I’ll make sure you’re back in your regular assignment, as well,” he added. “I won’t be able to handle not kissing you for a week. I love being able to see you like that every night.”

You’d never expected Seunghyun to be so open to admit what could be perceived as weakness. He always came across very closed off, and protective of his emotions around most people apart from his fellow bandmates — even then, he didn’t seem quite as open.

The next several days seemed to drag on forever as you waited to have alone time with Seunghyun. Still, you had your stolen glances and private make out sessions every night, each kiss more desperate than the last, hands moving heavier with more determination.

The last show before the two day break, Seunghyun unbuttoned your jeans and began to slide his hand into your panties. You tensed, and he froze, panic spreading across his face, thinking he crossed a line. You stared into each other’s eyes and his hand stayed just barely past the elastic of your panties, unsure of what to do. You nodded slowly to give him permission to continue, and then you lowered your gaze to watch between your bodies as his hand traveled deeper into your panties.

You could recall that first sensation when his fingers, surprisingly cold, gently touched your folds. He didn’t tease you, no, there wasn’t enough time and you were so close to your hotel date so he wouldn’t do it just yet. Instead he made sure his fingers were wet with your juices before he pulled back, sliding his fingers into his mouth as he kept his gaze on you.

You worried you’d faint from the sight of him savoring your taste, but he gave you a wink, and headed back to the stage before you had the opportunity to even respond. Seunghyun told you later that he could taste you on his lips and tongue for the rest of the show, and that he had to focus not to get hard in front of everyone. You told him that you could feel his cold, soft fingers touching you for the rest of the night, and that you would let him fuck you on stage if that was what he wanted to do. He blushed but you could tell he definitely envisioned it.

You weren’t sure what to expect when it came to being alone in a hotel with Seunghyun, so your mind came up with hundreds of different scenarios that could potentially play out. During your secret rendezvous with him, he was tender for the most part, with the occasional moment of audacity like when he touched you between your thighs.

The first time you had sex with Seunghyun was gentle, the kind of thing you feel like you’d read in a romance novel. There wasn’t a lot of talking apart from the occasional soft whispers of encouragement from him, but your head was too foggy for you to even think of anything else to do except breathe and whimper. You would have been embarrassed by how composed he was compared to you, but you knew he wouldn’t want you to think that way.

You stayed tangled together in bed for what felt like hours after, telling stories of your lives and dreams for the future. As you listened to him open up to you, telling you about all of his hopes and dreams and demons, all you wanted was to kiss him and hold him for the rest of your life. But maybe that wasn’t what he wanted from you.

“Is this it?” you asked him, trying to make your voice stronger than you felt. “After today, are we back to the way things were?”

“Is that what you want?”

“No, not at all,” you said, earnestly.

“Neither do I.”

Things changed from that moment onward, the start of your relationship with Seunghyun. You both agreed that it would be best to keep it between the two of you as long as you could, not ready to deal with the attention of his fans or his bandmates. Beyond that, sneaking around was still so fucking hot.

Once, Taeyang almost caught you. The group had a performance at an award show in Japan that your team wasn't required for. After several days of rehearsals and fittings during which you spent no time together, you finally found a brief moment, maybe ten minutes of time, where Seunghyun wasn’t being pulled in a million different directions. He gave you a quick nod towards the bathrooms, and you knew what he was suggesting.

It was an individual bathroom, no stalls. You snuck inside first, staying at the far side of the room to wait for him to join you. Only a few minutes went by before he finally entered the room, hurriedly locking the door and moving towards you.

“I missed you,” he breathed, crashing his lips into yours for a kiss that he clearly had been waiting too long for. You grabbed his hips and pulled him against you, longing to feel his body again. “Being around you and not being able to touch you like I want to,” he began, kissing along your neck. “Drives me crazy. I don’t know how I’ll manage the next few days not being able to see you.”

You slid your hand to the back of his head, your fingers threading through his short hair, to guide him to a spot on your neck that you love when he kisses. His hands grabbed your sides hard, pinning you to the wall and keeping you in place to grind himself against you.

“Don’t get too worked up,” you warned. “We won’t have time for me to get you off, baby. And I’ve been wanting it so bad, I’ve been dreaming about it. You can’t leave me hungry for you like that.” Seunghyun bit your neck, sucking harder on your skin, clearly trying to leave a mark. “Are you trying to claim me?” you asked, tugging on his hair to get a groan from him. “You want them to see that I already belong to someone?”

“I want you to remember it,” he muttered against your skin. “When I can’t be with you in the next few days, I want you to look in the mirror and see this mark so you’ll remember the way that only I know how to make you feel.”

That was the first time he showed his possessive side, and you were elated. You wanted to return the favor, maybe scratch up his back or his chest to give him something to think about while you weren’t near him but you worried that would be the fastest way to get caught. Sure, Seunghyun seldom showed much skin to anyone, but you knew that his friends enjoyed teasing and pranking one another, which has previously included sneaking pictures of one another while in compromising situations — like in the shower.

The knock on the bathroom door scared you both, and Taeyang’s voice made you even more terrified. All you could do was stare at one another with panic in your eyes.

“Hey, man, we have to leave soon for the next fitting,” Tae called out, knocking again. “Then to the airport for the flight.”

“Okay,” Seunghyun replied, hoping it would be sufficient.

“Are you alright?” came Tae’s response, and she shook the door handle as if he wanted to get in the room. “You sound odd.”

“Be out in a minute.” Seunghyun sounded as irritated as he looked, but thankfully, Tae took the hint and you heard his footsteps retreating. Seunghyun put his hands on the wall on either side of you, looking at you, discouraged. “Text me every time you think of me,” he said. “Especially if it’s dirty.”

“That will be a lot of messages,” you admitted, which made him grin.

“You think about me that much?” he inquired and you nodded, transfixed on his mouth. “Good. Give me details, so I know what my girl daydreams of me doing to her. I’ll miss you.” You make sure to give him another kiss, knowing you won’t see him for several days. “Stay here for a minute after I leave,” he directed. “I’ll make sure no one is around.”

Seunghyun exited first, casually to not draw attention. You counted to thirty before you made your exit, thankfully no one was in sight to be any the wiser.

You sent him fifteen texts that day, which was showing a tremendous amount of restraint compared to how frequently you actually thought of him. Your mind was almost entirely on him from the moment he left your side: sweet thoughts of how you’d love to hold his hand and walk through a market together, tender thoughts of kissing endlessly in his bed, filthy thoughts that you refused to elaborate on via text message but you made sure he knew you needed him in every imaginable way.

That night was the first time you had phone sex with Seunghyun. You couldn’t make it twenty four hours without each other. The sound of Seunghyun trying to keep his moans to a reasonable volume to not get caught by his bandmates in the next room was something you’d think about forever; you wished you could record the sound in your mind and play it whenever you wanted. The slightly static and muffled distortion of his voice coming through the phone somehow made his voice deeper, and when he told you what he would have done to you if you were there with him that night, you switched to a video call so he could watch you touch yourself.

You slowly found out about each other’s kinks. He liked watching you touch yourself because if anyone knew what you liked the most, it would be you. He also liked being called ‘baby’, and having his hair pulled. You told him you liked being more submissive, and you especially enjoyed dirty talk. He said he liked lingerie, the lacy kind, and he ended up buying you three different sets to wear for him. Though you were most nervous to admit this one, and you tried to avoid it altogether, you told him the contact lenses and costume for ‘Bae Bae’ were sexy.

“I’ll wear them for you one day,” he promised. “But you’d better be a dirty girl for me if I do, princess.” You tried to hide your excitement and embarrassment, but Seunghyun saw it immediately. “I love when you get shy,” he smirked, stealing a gentle kiss.

“I love everything you do,” you responded.

The first time you both actually said ‘I love you’ was during one of the intermissions about two months after you started your relationship. You both admitted later that you felt it much earlier on than that, but didn’t want to pressure the other.

Seunghyun said it first. The roles were slightly reversed from usual, as he was the one pressed back against the wall with your hands touching his body over his shirt. Your mouth was leaving a wet trail of kisses along his sharp jawline, tasting the sweat on his skin. His hands were on your backside, pulling you against him hard, letting you work your magic on him.

“I love you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss below your ear then resting his head against yours. You stopped kissing his neck, staying in place, breathing slowly as you let the words sink in. “Is that okay?” he questioned, his hands shifting to your hips now, rubbing soothingly.

“More than okay,” you whispered, nudging your head against his gently. “I love you, too.”

Seunghyun let out a small, excited yell in response to your words, roughly wrapping his arms around you and spinning you both in a circle. You laughed along with him holding on tight as he got out his excited response.

“I knew it, princess. You can’t get enough of me.”

“That’s funny, coming from you,” you retorted, playfully shoving him against the wall again and standing in front of him, both of your hands pressed to his chest. “I’m so fucking in love with you,” you whispered, wistfully.

Seunghyun gave you one last passionate kiss before he had to go back onto the stage. He told you later he felt like it was the best performance he ever gave because he couldn’t stop thinking about how much love was in your eyes when you looked at him.

When Jiyong almost caught you, it was enough to cause you and Seunghyun to have a conversation about the future of your relationship. It was after a show, when Daesung asked you to join the guys and a few others to go to a club. Ordinarily, you would have refused as you didn’t spend a lot of time clubbing, but when you glanced past Daesung towards Seunghyun, you noticed the hopeful look on his face — so you agreed. Maybe the night would give you an opportunity to dance with Seunghyun.

What you hadn’t thought of, however, was what happened a couple of hours before, during your intermission make out session. You decided to tempt Seunghyun, just a little bit, and you wore a skirt. You knew immediately that it worked, because his hands were under your skirt, groping your thighs, as soon as his body touched yours.

The issue was that you had slipped your panties off and handed them to him just before he went back on stage; hot pink panties from a set he had bought. You could see the surprise on his face initially, but his expression changed to something different, more intense. He shoved the clothing into the pocket of his jacket, swooping back towards you for another kiss before he went back to the stage. He told you later that it was one of the sexiest things you ever did, and that he tried to think of a way to do something similar for you, but he didn’t think handing you his briefs would have the same impact.

Fast forward to the club, when Seunghyun took his jacket off and draped it over his seat, only to have your panties fall from his pocket to the floor. Neither of you noticed it until Jiyong spoke.

“Lose something?” he laughed.

“Huh?” Seunghyun asked, prompting Jiyong to point to the clothing on the floor. Your heart leapt to your throat and you were thankful that the lights were low in the club so no one could see the look of shock and embarrassment on your face.

“Pink to match your hair, is that it?” Jiyong teases, taking a sip of his drink. Seunghyun scooped the panties up from the ground, stuffing them into the pocket of his pants this time.

“Caught them on stage,” he explained casually, sitting down again.

“And you decided to carry them with you after you changed clothes,” Jiyong continued, a smirk on his lips as he watched Seunghyun for any signs of deception.

“You don’t have to act so jealous because you didn’t catch any,” Seunghyun responded, a sly smirk on his lips. Jiyong laughed at his friend’s response.

“That’s a shame — I thought you’d finally found someone willing to put up with all of your quirks.” Seunghyun didn’t need to respond, and he told you later that if he didn’t relent when he did, Jiyong would have kept pushing until he figured out your secret.

The best moment of the night was dancing with Seunghyun. Even when you were just friends, you didn’t share a dance together, so you weren’t aware of how good it felt to slow dance and grind with him. To make sure no suspicions were raised, you danced with the others as well, and even though Seunghyun agreed it would be a good idea, you could tell he hated to watch it happen.

Later that night, Seunghyun sent you a video of him, a little tipsy from the drinks that night, and a little frustrated from the lack of time spent with you. He spoke deeper than normal, trying to avoid being heard by anyone through the walls.

“I didn’t like their hands on you,” he muttered. “Touching you like they had the right. It makes me crazy not being able to touch you when I want, princess.” He sounded needy in a way you hadn’t heard from him before, and it made you wish he was with you in your room right then.

It wasn’t until the next day that you had a few moments to spare together where Seunghyun asked you if you were serious about him. You were frustrated with the question at first until you realized why he was asking: you two were getting closer to being caught, and he wanted to save you from the relentless teasing and jokes you’d be subjected to once the others found out. You told him you didn’t care and you loved him, so that was all that mattered. You’d enjoy sneaking around while you still could.

The first time you played a prank on him wasn’t your choice. Daesung and Jiyong talked you into it, because they knew that Seunghyun would expect strange behavior from them during a prank war. You were an objective third party as far as they knew, and you thought going along with their plan would be the best way to keep the heat off of you.

You didn’t think it was a great idea because you knew how much Seunghyun didn’t enjoy showing off his body, but Daesung convinced you to steal Seunghyun’s clothes while he was in the shower. You agreed, and before you knew it, you found yourself sneaking into the shower room in search of his clothes. Until he caught you, all of his clothes bunched up in your hands while he stood opposite you with a towel around his waist.

“You turned on me, princess?” he asked, putting his hands on his hips. “You joined their team?”

“It’s just…for fun,” you explained, cheeks flushing.

“Are you blushing because you’ve been caught or because you want me to drop the towel?” He stalked towards you, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to run away or run closer. “Both?” he smirked.

“Maybe a little,” you mumbled.

“Take the clothes,” he nodded, finally in front of you. “I’ll make a big scene about it, don’t worry. But tonight, I want you to come by my hotel room, and you can pay me back.” He stole a quick kiss from you before gently shoving you in the direction of the exit.

You both acted perfectly together, convincing the other guys that you had pranked him. They laughed uncontrollably as Seunghyun cursed them for talking you into a stupid prank war. After you finally relented and returned his clothes, he spared a quick glance to the others to make sure they weren’t looking when he whispered in your ear.

“My room later,” he said. “You owe me.”

He got you off four times that night before he let you relax. It was a new record for both of you.

The next day was the first time one of the guys suggested Seunghyun ask you out. You weren’t around when it happened, working elsewhere in the arena setting up for the rehearsal, but Seunghyun was practically giddy when he told you later.

From Seunghyun’s retelling of the conversation, Tae was the first to bring it up, mentioning that he could see a spark between the two of you at the club. Jiyong agreed but Daesung mentioned that he felt he had more of a chance with you than Seunghyun did.

“Dae would be my second choice,” you joked with Seunghyun, and thankfully, he laughed in response.

According to Seunghyun, he played the whole thing as casually as possible. At first he denied that there was any sort of spark between you, and then he allowed his friends to make him see it. Still, he shrugged it off, saying he didn’t have time for a relationship. By the end of the conversation, he seemingly dissuaded them of the notion altogether.

“I don’t think I’m ready to tell them,” he admitted. “It’s fun sneaking around, and I’m happy being private. Besides, that’s one step closer to the rest of the world finding out. I don’t want you to face them until you’re ready.”

It was sweet how he wanted to protect you, but you felt in a certain part of your mind that maybe he wasn’t ready to tell the world because he wasn’t proud of you. It was a silly notion, and you knew from the way he looked at you that he would do anything for you, just as you would for him. Still, you couldn’t help but hear that small whisper of doubt if you thought too hard about your relationship.

The whisper got softer, and eight months into your still secret relationship with Seunghyun, you couldn’t hear it at all anymore. The tour had ended and you were able to spend more time together without as much worry of being caught. You spent most of your days in his apartment, sometimes yours, watching movies together or staying in bed. You were sometimes treated to the sight of Seunghyun at his desk, writing new music; you think those were your favorite days.

It all brings you to this moment right now. You’re tangled up in the sheets of Seunghyun’s bed, on your back with your hips at the edge, while he’s knelt on the floor with his head between your legs. He has your thighs spread wide for him, pinned down against the bed so he can get at you without issue.

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, fisting his hair to hold him in place where he sucks on your clit. “That feels so good, please don’t stop.”

“Mhm,” he hums against you, and you’re sure you can feel him smirking. He thrusts his fingers into you faster, sensing that you’re close from the way you’re squeezing and grinding against him. “Good girl,” he breathed into you. “Come for me, baby.”

Every time Seunghyun makes you come, it feels better than the last. Your body trembles and you moan out his name so much and so hard, you feel like you’ll lose your voice. This time is no different, and you ride out each and every wave of your orgasm, then dropping back into the sheets, panting.

“I’ll never get tired of the way that sounds,” Seunghyun says, licking the taste of you from his lips and fingers. “You, calling my name, breathing like you’re desperate for air. You’re so beautiful.” You reach towards him, cupping his face with both hands and urging him closer to you. He grins up at you, climbing on top of you on the bed to kiss you passionately.

You’re both so lost in the feeling of one another you don’t hear the front door of the apartment open, and you didn’t hear your friends talking idly while they changed their shoes in the entryway. If you had overheard them, you would have had more time to cover yourselves up or even hide before they entered the bedroom.

“Oh, damn!” Jiyong exclaims, laughing. “I’m sorry!” He covers his eyes and turns from the doorway, but is quickly joined by his two other bandmates who are hurrying to peer into the room.

“No way!” Daesung laughs.

“I knew it,” Tae laughs.

“Fucking go!” Seunghyun yells, pointing at them with one hand as he tries to help you cover yourself with a sheet. “Have some respect!” The other three men almost fall over one another as they scramble from the room, still in a fit of excited laughter. “I’m so sorry,” Seunghyun says, softly, as he turns to check on you. “Are you okay? I didn’t know they were coming over.”

“It’s okay,” you nod, your cheeks still flushed in embarrassment. “I guess the truth is out now.”

“So much for privacy,” he chuckles, grasping your jaw tenderly and pulling you towards him for a kiss. “I’m sorry, princess. If you go get cleaned up, I’ll talk to those idiots, and try to calm them down before you come out there.”

“Okay,” you smile. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he replies. You smile, tossing the blanket from your body and moving to stand up from the bed. “Wait,” Seunghyun says, catching your hips, and pulling you to stand in front of where he sits on the edge of the bed. “I’m not upset that they know. I’ll miss sneaking around because it was sexy…but at least we can be open about it. And we can start moving you in here tomorrow.”

“That’s how you ask me to move in with you?” you chuckle, putting your hands on his shoulders.

“You love it here,” he responds, one of his hands slipping between your thighs, touching your still wet and tender folds. “I‘ll be able to touch you anytime you want me to. And we both know…you always want me to touch you.”

“Mmm,” you hum, closing your eyes and letting out a soft sigh. “Maybe. But I’m not going to let you finger me while your friends are in the other room.” Seunghyun laughs, removing his hand from between your legs and making sure you look at him before he slips his fingers into his mouth to clean them.

“Go clean up,” he commands, gesturing to the bathroom. “If I get them to leave before you’re out, I’m coming in there and fucking you in the shower.” You laugh, playfully slapping his shoulder.

“Don’t make a promise that you don’t intend to keep.”

“Oh, you doubt me?” he laughs. “Now I’ll have them out of here in sixty seconds, so you’d better be in that shower waiting for me. Or else you’ll be in trouble.” You wish you could identify what it was about Seunghyun threatening you like this that set your inside alight with arousal, but you figure that’s an internal conversation for another time. “Go now,” he says, smacking you on your backside. “Be a good girl and listen to what I told you.”

As you enter the bathroom, you feel an excitement radiating through you unlike you’d felt before at the thought of being in a relationship with Seunghyun. Now that the truth is out, the possibilities are endless. And the likelihood of Seunghyun keeping his promise to meet you in the bathroom is now a certainty as he stands in the doorway, thirty seconds faster than he had predicted.

[jihoonjuseyo]

Perverted jihoon hacking readers computer so he can see what she is doing in her room just to see her jerking off to him.... Then might end it with him fucking her in her bedsheets the very same night

~💩

a/n: this isn’t something i usually write ;u; i really tried to make him a pervert but i have a hard time writing real people with these kinds of character traits. i hope you understand ♡

cw: smut, toys, spying, dubcon if you squint, computer hacking to watch reader masturbate, oh yeah masturbation, lmk if i missed anything

requests open!

when you told jihoon that you’ve been told that you make noises when you sleep, he half-believed it to start. he wasn’t a stranger to having his ear pressed to the wall that separates your bedrooms. he recognized quickly that those weren’t just measly noises from sleep, no soft hums from your slumber - no, those were *moans* he was hearing.

it woke an obsession within him, standing next to the wall for minutes after you’ve gone to bed, hoping and praying that he’d hear the soft buzz he’d learn to listen for, his hand already moving down to his waistband.

it woke an obsession within him, standing next to the wall for minutes after he knows you’ve gone to bed, hoping and praying that he’d hear the soft buzz he’d learn to listen for, his hand already moving down to his waistband. he’d seen the vibrator once. on accident, as he was so innocently helping you organize your drawers one day while you were gone. he certainly didn’t smear his own cum on it just to see it before washing it off, oh no.

jihoon’s obsession continued to grow as he patiently waited for your soft moans in the night, his mind filling with increasingly more debaucherous thoughts of you. one night, as he stood with his ear pressed against the wall, he heard the familiar buzz he was waiting for, the soft gasp of your initial tease to your core.

a thrill ran through his body as he pressed even closer to the wall, his excitement growing as he listened to the soft moans coming from the other side.

he pictured you in your room, those little shorts you wore (the ones he saw riding up your ass countless times throughout the afternoon), pulled to the side with your fingers teasing your entrance. he loved the idea of that purple toy shoved inside of you, your walls encasing it so tightly. but your fingers, god he pictured them everywhere on his body-

he closed his eyes as he stroked his cock, a shaky breath coming out as jihoon pictured himself in front of the bed, eyes level with your cunt as you teased yourself.

that’s when his brain went a different direction, and he physically felt his length harden at the idea. your computer, so perfectly situated in the front of your bed. jihoon knew that computer had the best spot in the world, it made him envious.

jihoon's mind continued to spin as he listened to your soft moans through the wall. as the room on the other side of the wall fell silent, he quietly stepped away from the wall, his mind still filled with thoughts of you. it was like a magnet pulling him back to the wall, but he resisted.

he walked over to his own desk, his hands shaky as he turned on his computer. he knew that he had to see the view that your computer was enjoying. it was so unfair, the way he knows your legs are spread out for the computer to see.

sitting down at his desk, jihoon quickly launched the hacking program he had been developing for the past few months. with a few commands, he was in your system, giving him access to your webcam and the contents on it.

he navigated to your webcam and clicked to open the live feed, his heart racing in anticipation. he'd been fantasizing about this moment for weeks, hoping he would be able to get a glimpse of your most intimate moments before you fall asleep.

as the camera launched, jihoon’s breath hitched as your bedroom came into view. there you were, laid out on your bed, wearing those same shorts that had been driving him crazy all day.

only, those shorts were pulled to your ankles,

“jihoon-“ your voice hitched, making jihoon’s hand, that had been pumping his cock so slickly, stuttered, his hips jerking slightly. he felt his face flush, his instincts kicking in almost immediately. he had to grip the chair as he considered, barging in on a private moment or making her fantasies a reality?

jihoon's mind raced as he watched you on the other end of the camera, his body reacting to every little sound you made. he knew that spying on you was wrong, but he couldn't help himself now. he wanted you so badly that he could taste it.

his mind was swirling with all the ways he wanted to taste you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes focused on the way you were writhing on the bed. He couldn't believe the situation he found himself in, watching you so intimately without you even knowing.

“fuck it,” he hissed, pushing himself out of the chair and standing up, pushing his cock back into his pants for the moment.

jihoon's heart was pounding in his chest as he quickly got up and left his bedroom, his mind racing with thoughts of what he was about to do. he approached your door, his hand shaking slightly as he reached out to turn the knob.

jihoon hesitated for a moment before turning the doorknob and slowly opening the door, his breath caught in his throat as he stepped inside. the room was dimly lit by the light from the desk, the computer screen casting an eerie glow on your body as you lay in bed.

his eyes drank in the sight of you, laid out before him like a gift. he closed the door behind him, the soft click of the latch sounding like a gunshot in his ears.

unfortunately for him, you’d heard it too. you shot up with a gasp, hands coming out while simultaneously trying to cover your lower half with your legs. “d-don’t you know h-h-ho-aaa..!” jihoon felt himself get chocked up, knowing that you were attempting to hide the fact that a vibrator was lodged tightly in your pussy.

jihoon's eyes widened as he took in the sight of you, his gaze going straight to where your hands were trying to hide the vibrator. His heart raced in his chest as he tried to form a coherent thought.

he took a step forward, his mind going back to the sight on the camera. he hadn't been able to see that in the dimly lit room, nor had he been prepared for the way it would feel to see it in person.

“I-I…” he tried to speak, but the words got caught in his throat as his body responded to the view in front of him. he took another step forward, bringing him within a few feet of the bed.

jihoon's eyes roamed over your body, taking in every part of you. the sight of your chest heaving with each labored breath was almost too much for him, the urge to touch you growing stronger with each moment.

“I don’t-“ he started, his voice low and rough. he took another step forward, bringing him right next to the bed. he knelt down on the edge, his hands shaking slightly as he reached out to touch you. you jerked back slightly, your breath heavy as you watched jihoon intensely, confused but curious.

his eyes, ever so dark and focused, stared at the exposed part of your leg before trailing his hand up your thigh, pushing the blanket up as well as you almost fought him. “hey-“ you began, but he shushed you, not even having the respect to look at you before he tossed the blanket over your hip, wasting no time in prying your legs open and half-leaping onto the bed to ensure a place between your legs. “fuck- fuck-“ he didn’t know where to look first, your thighs were spread out and held by his strong arms, encasing your thighs between his forearms and biceps.

yet, his mesmerized eyes didn’t even flinch as you barely thrashed, more confused on the situation. “jihoon, wha— ah—.?!” you hissed when you felt the vibrator push further into your core, glancing down at him in shock. his lips were pressed to the flat end, applying pressure to the toy as it penetrated and rotated inside of you.

you pulled yourself to your knees, expression one of bliss and shock. his eyes shifted from your clit, up towards your face. “are you going to behave?” he asked.

you found no fight within you, feeling your legs give up as well. jihoon felt them relax as he set them on his shoulders. his hand moving to grasp the toy. his mouth found freedom, yet immediately hitched up to attack your clit, his tongue flattening it with his saliva aiding your juices in soaking you. with gentle movements, you felt the pull and stretch of the toy in a way you never have before, stomach feeling twitchy as a new type of pleasure settled within you.

“does that feel good?” jihoon asked, clicking the button on the vibrator to speed it up and watch you curl just slightly from the suddenness.

“so good,” you whimpered, both hands coming down to thread through his hair. “so fucking— oh, god,” you purred, hips lifting just slightly to give a slow grind to his lips when he delivered a particularly sweet suckle to your numb.

“i have a lot to make up for,” jihoon said mostly to himself, his free hand coming to smear the spit all over your clit in a messy fashion.

you didn’t question the statement, too focused on the way your eyes practically rolled back. whatever he meant, you prayed it meant that you wouldn’t be leaving the bed any time soon.

[scarletttries]

Write A Kiss Request: Monkey D Luffy (One Piece) x Reader ...a kiss as a promise

(prompt list here) & 2025 Request List - requests open

...a kiss as a promise for Luffy

You had never seen colours quite like it. Deep oranges burning into dark reds, rippled with blues so rich they seemed tinged with purple. It seemed the closer your ship drew to the Grand Line, the more ethereal the whole ocean became. Perched in the crow's nest on the Going Merry as the sunset painted the horizon in deep speckled tones, you wondered how you ever felt at home anywhere else.

It had been a couple of months since you left your island home in search of adventure and intrigue, all sparked by the moment you met a man more extraordinary than the night sky itself: Monkey D Luffy.

It had felt more natural than breathing when you met the famous straw hat captain, the two of you instantly falling in step in a way the rest of the crew chuckled about behind closed doors. Luffy always had such a strange way with people, often chaotic and always unpredictable. But you brought a quiet calm to the pirate that no-one had seen before, giving him a stable harbour in his life's stormy sea, slowing him down enough for him to finally settle and rest. On beautiful nights like tonight Luffy was more drawn to you than ever, the ship's proximity to the fated Grand Line only filling him with need to hold you near.

"Nami thinks we'll be in the waters of the Grand Line in just two more days." You expected Luffy to sound more excited about the announcement than he did, his eyes fixed straight ahead at the sunset as he spoke. His stony gaze betrayed the smile on his face, an air of uncertainty hanging in the space between you, his confidence seeming to falter for the first time.

"And then you're one step closer to being king of the pirates. You'll be achieving your dream soon." You reminded him, his smile softening into something more sincere as you closed the distance between the two of you and let your hand rest on his shoulder. He brought one arm up around your waist, his hand settling on your lower back as he held you and spoke again,

"Do you think someone can have two dreams?" He looked squarely at you as he said the words, the intensity in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine in anticipation.

"I think so. What's on your mind Luffy?" Your free hand swept a lock of hair out of his face, giving you a little more of him to examine as you searched for the meaning behind his cryptic words.

"You'll stay with me, right? When I've achieved my dream and I'm king of the pirates, and you've lived out your dream too. You're not going to go somewhere else after all this, are you? Or can it be somewhere we can go together? What happens after the Grand Line?" His words dripped slowly from his lips like honey, each one a falling grain of sand in the hourglass of time he feared would drive you apart.

It wasn't unusual for Luffy to cling to you like this when you were alone together, his arms encircling you whenever he could. But this the first time he'd voiced his need to cling to you beyond that. A first look to a future that he knew he needed to have you in. From a man who skated through so much by just knowing things would work out somehow, this moment of desperate uncertainty struck your heart with all the meaning it carried. Luffy had a second dream. One he believed in just as strongly as his undeniable destiny as king of the pirates. Luffy's new dream was you.

"I'll still be by your side when all of our adventures are done, Luffy." Your thumb stroked soft stripes over his scarred cheek, his brow dipping in thought as he pondered your reply. Wide brown eyes rose to search yours, deep murky pools of hope and need.

"Do you promise?" It was impossible to say no to a question posed so sweetly, his inner child shining through in these rare moments of vulnerability he saved for only you. You decided to do something you hadn't before, something you hoped would portray the enormity of your affections for him better than words ever could. You leaned forward, hopeful the rest of the crew weren't keeping a watchful eye over their fearless leader, and kissed Monkey D Luffy. It was just a gentle peck, his lips as warm and soft as his heart, the sea around you seeming to settle into a moment of serene silence the moment you touched him. Luffy made no effort to move, his arms lightly locked around your waist as he leant just the slightest bit of weight forwards, just enough to feel his lips press against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you stood frozen in time, letting the endless well of love and admiration you have for your captain spill out from your heart.

When you blinked your eyes open the sky had grown darker, and you couldn't tell if a second or an hour had passed as the two of you embraced. You pulled away and rested your forehead against his, breathlessly whispering the words he needed to hear,

"I promise."

[kurokawaia]

thoughts on sasuke with pregnant reader (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) (don't feel pressured if you don't want to write it Honey!! you know i love what you write either way 🫂)

Oh my goodness^^ ofc i'll share my thoughts nonnie!! you're too sweet omg 🫂🫂

CW/TW :: pregnancy, fem!reader, thelast!sasuke/postwar!sasuke, reader is a medical ninja

I can just imagine that on his travels that you are there with him. He is the one that asked you to come which surprised you because you'd never thought he would, until he did. During the time you were together, wondering outside the village, going to various places, you landed up pregnant.

This wasn't something to be disappointed of! No! In fact, Sasuke was the one who first brought up the topic, expressing his interest and you wanted to as well. The only problem was... how dangerous it would be for you now that you are having a child.

Sasuke and you managed to come to an agreement, that you'd go back to the village and he'd continue to travel around for two weeks before coming back for a week to spend time with you until you were further along, to which he'd stay three weeks and leave for only a couple days.

You were around 19 weeks pregnant and the both of you have been in the village for only a mere couple of hours after reporting in with the Hokage. He didn't even suspect a thing, you were wearing a coat which covered your body so he couldn't tell, only that you informed him that you wouldn't be travelling anymore due to some health issues.

But, this is were all the 'drama' starts. You're out getting some groceries because there is nothing in the house, nothing. You changed out from your ninja attire to something more comfortable, a fitted maxi dress which did, very obviously, show of your growing baby bump. Casually, you were just plopping in the stuff you and Sasuke needed into the smaller trolley's (sasuke isn't here bc naruto dragged him away to get some ramen, you said you're a strong independent woman who can shop herself (●'◡'●) )

This is when the stares start to begin. Because not only can they see your pregnant, but they can see the Uchiha Clan symbol sewn onto the back of your dress. The Uchiha symbol on your back wasn’t exactly subtle, and with your bump showing, it was pretty clear who you were and what was going on. You can feel the stares, you were only gone for what 7 months, that's not that long but you guessed that it was the fact that you left not pregnant and came back so.

It wasn’t every day they saw Sasuke Uchiha’s partner out and about anyways, since you work at the hospital AND being pregnant. That's a shocker. A group of older women passed by, their eyes lingering a little longer than usual. You didn’t blame them. Sasuke wasn’t exactly the type to be open about his personal life, and here you were, very obviously carrying his child. They probably never expected to see this side of him.

After a while, you headed to the checkout, noticing the stares hadn’t really stopped. You couldn’t help but think about how different life was now. Being with Sasuke always meant people were watching, but now, with a baby on the way, it felt even more intense. But you knew it is only because they never thought they'd ever see the day he'd settle down, and now he has!

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

Please give me yandere scaramouche with spouse gn reader. Honestly it's been a while since I read any fan fic about yandere scaramouche haha,

Just some headcanons because writing is hard

Cw: yandere(kinda light??? But also not so caution)

It's amazing that he even considers marriage with someone since it's a pretty mortal thing to do. He definitely marries someone to keep others from them and to keep them by his side until he finds a way to bind them to him more permanently once he asends to god hood.

Very few know he has a spouse cause while he wants them at his side 24/7 he also doesn't want the presences of others to poison them or try to take them from him. So the only ones that know about his spouse are his most trustworthy fatui that he has guard them when he cannot be by their side and possibly other Harbingers who have caught sight of them once or twice.

His spouse would live a fairly isolated life, probably in some remote village somewhere where the most danger is perhaps a stray fox and most of the population is either too old or far too young to even be considered a threat. So they can be free to wander around talk with people and play, just live a pretty normal mortal life.

Sure this seems strange especially since he's allowing them to live a normal life but its not normal its just normal to them and thats just how he want it. All of their actions are reported to him daily from who they talk to, where they went, what they ate, how long they slept, everything.

But while he wants them to enjoy this normal life of theirs he also wants them to want more specifically of him. Want him to come by more, stay longer, spoil them with affection, just more more more. He wants them to long for him in his absence so that when the day comes and he's ready to become a God they'll come with him and agree to become his for eternity.

Anyone that flirts with them or any danger that comes by is dealt with swiftly. People go missing, bodies are never found, and rumors may start but it's better to have rumors of a vengeful spirit haunting his spouse or something than someone flirting with his spouse. It may isolate them a bit more but it all works in his favor in the end.

When hes able to get some time away and spend some time with them he's cooking their meals, telling them fabricated tales of his life away from them, being affectionate, and giving them whatever they desire. He gets high off his spouse asking things of him regardless of if it's something material like a new outfit or physical like a kiss, it feeds into his desire to be needed but also treated as someone powerful because he can provide them with anything they want like a God would.

His spouse would be aware of his harshness so it's not seen as something shocking if he snaps at a stranger that approaches them. He's pretty likeable despite that so besides them making a comment that he should be a little nicer they won't his his behavior as alarming or odd. Of course they aren't aware of him killing people or ordering others to kill for him and he plans to keep it that way.

I'd see that the only way for him to snap at his spouse and go full on yandere never letting them leave or killing them himself is if they say they don't love him. Like that would literally break him cause this is someone who promised to love him forever and for them to take that from him would be devastating.

As plans for his ascension get closer and closer to being finished he gets a little deranged as the excitement for what's to come gets closer and closer which might worry his spouse. But he'll assure them he's fine and that he's only this way because he's planning a trip for them. They have to be there for his ascension so he will bring them to Sumeru to witness this moment.

At this point if they weren't already aware he was a yandere they may know now but it'll be too late for them to run away.

[theonefairygodmother]

Kinda agree with both, but more often than not, I see people using wrong characters tags and characterizing a character with the actors' personality not because of lack of writing ability but instead to boost the popularity of their own work or just because they dont really want to learn about the character. Tbh I think creating fanfiction comes from two fronts: loving/hating the original work and having fun. If either are poorly balanced that's okay, but we need to keep some organization around here.

If your character doesn't have the same personality as the original guess what: you can use ooc!nameofthecharacter which is basically a tag fans came up with to alert other fans about their decision to not stick to the original character's personality. Same as the fight between x reader and x oc. If your "reader" has a name different than Y/n guess what! That's an OC! Which there's absolute no problem, people can do whatever they want in fanfic just admit you're doing it. It's simple. Don't use tags that don't belong there, don't use the wrong rating just to get more people to read your fic, bla bla bla. In doubt, ask other writers on Twitter, Tumblr, wherever you want.

Talking about getting people to read your fic: I mean, I've seen authors rewriting their own work with different characters. Not once, not twice but three times and by two different authors. I'm not talking about repeating a trope, I'm talking about authors who wrote a very good story for Fandom A that got them many likes and notes to the point that a year later they decided to use the same prompt, the same character dynamics, the same dialogue, the same personality of the main characters but just changed their names for characters from Fandom B. Basically they copied paste to have something to add to this new fandom instead of creating something for the new fandom. Are they allowed to do that? Of course, they can do whatever they want but is really fucked up.

It seems like fanfiction became this thing you should consume and produce, and if you dont have enough notes on it, you're doing it wrong. I've seen people make trailers and dialogue videos to capture the attention of reader on tiktok and tumblr. The worst thing is that they come up with parts just like marketing teams do. Which means that these parts of the fic most often than not are not even in the text of the fic. The authors come up with phrases and dialogues that wont ever feature in their own work. This is very different from actually working on your fic and being excited about something you wrote and wishing to share with other fans, which is the most sensible way. Because why would you use wrong tags, why would make "promotional work", why would face your fanfiction as if you are an influencer???? Fanfiction is not about this. You shouldn't be writing to become the most famous author of AO3. No one who is the most famous author of the Fandom A or B has ever started writing because of this. Nobody fucking cares, this is not a fucking a business.

So, even if it's not a business and maybe we shouldn't be so rigid about what people want to do with characters and how they want to portray them, maybe we should care at least a little bit. Just enough to avoid letting people transform fanfiction into a business. Just enough to avoid letting people use the platforms as they're not intended. Just enough to keep this thing organized and not a mess just because some people want the attention TikTok environment has convinced them they should have.

I think we have been normalizing too much. It's easy to accept anything when you have a small fandom because we're fearful of not having enough content to consume, but I think the problem is that this problem of characterization is happening too often. Out of all Lilia's x reader fanfics maybe 2 or 3 are in character. And if the authors are doing it because they can't write Lilia than that's okay. But we can still be fucking pissed about it, choose not to read it and try to bring awareness to this problem.

Guys, I love you all to bits–and I'm obsessed with Patti just as the rest of you. But, my brothers in christ, I bEG of you to stop mischaracterizing her roles as patti clones. it's frankly a little insulting to patti's insane acting range! I really don't think Patti and Lilia Calderu, per se, act or talk or think alike at all, for example. And while she does bring a very particular, italian, patti-edge to everyone she plays, she still plays them entirely different to each other. Lilia may have Patti mannerisms, a Patti essence of sorts, but she's very different to our girl. Same applies to Joanne, to Avis Amberg, to Nellie Lovett, to Reno Sweeney, to Joan Ramsey, to Evita Perón, (fucking Evita Perón-) to Kitty Duval, to Libby Thatcher, to Fantine, Norma Desmond, Mama Rose, Helena Rubenstein, Maria Callas?? Joan Clayton, Dr Seward?? 😭🙏 Her acting isn't even the same in two performances of the same character, I think it's a little underwhelming to portray all her characters as entirely Patti just because of her icon status and the fact we all want to sleep with heR-