#I also spent a long time on this band of light on him

[madelynraemunson]

pass the salt • e.m. smut

DAD’S BEST FRIEND!OLDER!EDDIE x FEM!READER

summary: you’re home from college and staying with your dad for the summer, spending as much time as you possibly can with him…and his hot best friend that you’ve never seen in your life.

authors note: okay have you guys ever seen those text posts like “when you say ‘daddy pass the salt please’ and your father and your man both reach for it” 💀💀 well this is inspired by that concept. also i went overboard and this is a LONG BOI

disclaimers — photo credits to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple 🫶🏼porn with plot, reader’s nickname is “sunshine”, reader has female anatomy, race unspecified, divider: @iluvpooks

NSFW — 18+ obv, porn with plot, daddy kink pls keep scrolling if it’s not ur thing, slight age gap (eddie is mid to late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), corruption kink, size kink, masturbation (m&f), p in v sex (protected), dirty talk, teasing, sexual innuendos, extreme flirting, eddie kinda being a perv, praise kink

The sound of breakfast on the griddle summons you downstairs.

Dad never cooks.

For as long as you can remember, weekends at your dad’s have always consisted of Lucky Charms cereal and powdered donuts. That tradition continued even after you started college.

Oh yeah. Someone is here, alright. Someone Dad desperately wants to impress.

Trailing after the commotion, your fuzzy pink slippers guide you down the wooden steps of your dad’s ‘bachelor pad’ and into the kitchen. And when you near the bottom of the steps, you can make out two distinct voices — one belonging to Dad, another belonging to someone who's identity is obscure.

“God, I fucking missed you, Jeff. Missed everyone so much.”

The smells of pancake batter, cigarette smoke, mint, and petroleum fuel reel you in, but not nearly as much as the sight of the man sitting on the opposite side of your dad. He's built, handsome with wavy brown hair, leather, black denim, twiddling a toothpick between his teeth as he listens to your dad speak with a smile on his face. That is, until you come into sight. It then that his intense focus circles in on you.

Funny. You don’t remember this friend. And something in your gut tells you that you won’t ever be forgetting him after this.

The stranger's grin curls into a wonder-filled smirk. You can feel your knees start to buckle.

“Uh oh. Looks like our shenanigans woke up Sleeping Beauty.”

When you get a closer look at Dad’s friend, you observe his faint brown beard — neatly kept and lightly peppered with some gray — delicious lips, shiny white teeth, and grooves along his laugh lines that would deepen with every theatrical cackle he belted out.

You can't help but freeze in your tracks as him and your dad continue on with their banter, reliving their glory days like it was yesterday. Man. What a damn dreamboat.

Your dad’s eyes light up with glee when he sees you.

“Hey, good morning, Sunshine!” Dad cheers. “Thought you’d never wake up. This is my friend Eddie. We were in that band together in high school. Come say hi.”

"Yeah, come say hi," Eddie agrees. feeding into the obvious tension in the room. "I don't bite."

The stranger laughs at his own comment as soon as he utters it.

There’s a charm — a magic — about Eddie that could only be found in Hollywood or the Big City. But of course, you didn't expect any less from Dad's supposed ‘Rockstar Friend’.

When your parents had you at 17, life went on for Dad’s band Corroded Coffin. And although he missed out on the ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock&Roll’, Dad insists that tea parties and white picket fences were an ideal trade-off. Because — despite how things ended with Mom — it still meant a life spent with you.

You tell him your name as Eddie offers you his hand to shake. Electricity serges through you when your hand is enveloped by his firm, calloused one. Eddie smiles down at you, his presence all-consuming. It's almost as if he knows it. And as much as you were dying to, you resist the urge to fall into him.

Eddie's no better.

It takes everything in Eddie's power to keep his eyes above your collarbones, reprimanding himself with the utmost tedium. Because heaven knows he'd be TOAST if his best friend found out that Eddie thought that you were absolutely stunning — strutting around the house the way that you do, without a bra underneath that poor excuse of a sleep shirt — a sleep shirt far too tight for your own good. With tight, pajama shorts to match…

Of course, this is all an assumption…Not that he caught wind of it or anything.

“You know…” he mentions. “Your dad has told me SO much about little miss Sunshine.”

“Me, really?” is all you can say behind those fuscia cheeks.

“Really,” Eddie insists. “He never shuts up about you, darling.”

“Hopefully you’ve only heard good things,” you mutter faintly.

And instantly, your dad and Eddie share a laugh.

“Only good things,” Eddie assures you. He nudges your dad playfully.

Your dad doesn’t exactly deny the last part, basically confirming to Eddie that you’ve got a hint of spunk to you. The heat settles at your cheeks as you shy away from your father’s curious friend.

Taking note of how timid you’ve just become, Eddie furrows his brows.

“What — was that an implication that you’re not always good?”

“No comment,” your smile melts into an awkward one.

“Kept me on my toes back then,” your dad reflects with a sigh. “Keeps me on my toes now.”

“You don’t say…” Eddie smirks slightly, gaze panning back over to you.

Eventually your dad leaves you two alone, going into the garage to fetch something that he insists Eddie would like. But little did he know that such thing was already in the room, leaning…reaching into the fridge for some orange juice, not realizing its atmosphere caused your nipples to harden.

Eddie’s eyes proceed to follow you as you strut back to the griddle, flipping some hot cakes over before tending to your messy bedhead.

Eddie probably doesn’t know — or maybe he does, who knows? — that you feel him staring at you. It’s a burning gaze that practically impales you, but you’re too nervous to say anything. You’re better off pretending like it’s something you don’t notice.

You and Eddie continue to help yourselves to breakfast, enjoying the company of each other and your mutual silence. That is, until Eddie speaks up.

“Got some sausage for you if you’d like.”

“I’m sorry?” you sputter, looking up from your food.

Eddie shoots you a weird glance as he holds up some breakfast franks.

“Sausage?” he repeats. “Store was out of beef so I settled for turkey. Hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all,” you clear your throat. “I love turkey sausage.”

“Okay, good,” Eddie chuckles, seemingly relieved at how quickly the situation had diffused.

“Cool,” you chuckle with him while taking some links to cook.

The silence returns once more and is replaced by the sizzling of the grill. It’s short lived, however, because soon, the man nearly twice your age speaks again.

“What’d you think I said?” Eddie circles back.

“Nothing, why?”

“You just looked stunned.”

“I just woke up,” you shrug. “My mind’s somewhere else.”

“I can tell,” he smirks. “Get that thing out of the gutter.”

The coming days paved way for some more innocent flirting.

…Like when you make sure to wear the shortest skirt in your closet when running Eddie his afternoon beer in the garage.

“Well don’t you look absolutely darling…” he says as he peers up from his guitar.

“Hehe,” you smirk connivingly. “Thank you!”

“You are so welcome.”

Eddie downs the liquid guilt along with his pride, watching you strut around…the hem of that pleated cotton fabric just barely covering the roundness of your asscheeks. And as you blush a rosy pink when you process his little remarks, Eddie can only clear his throat in arousal, fantasizing about just how badly he wanted to turn your other cheeks that very shade.

…Or when you come downstairs the next day to help Dad manually wash his car.

While he and Eddie are harassing each other with soap and that god-forsaken hose, you decide to join in on all the fun.

“Watch out, Sunshine,” Eddie forewarns. “You’ve just entered the splash zone!”

And with the intention of cooling you off on a hot summer day like this, Eddie teasingly sprays you with said hose, your white shirt becoming transparent when lathered with water. He could see everything. Your erect nipples. Your perky tits bouncing in the sunlight as you jump around in excitement. How glazed your oil-nnuendo’ed skin looked when glimmering in the sun. All as intended.

“You got me,” you surrender yourself to him. “You got me good, Eddie.”

And when you walk away, Eddie mutters slyly to himself.

“Yes, yes I did.”

…And then there’s dessert after dinner.

Eddie watches as you lick your popsicle, his fingers curling at his thighs in arousal as you retract the wrapper before enclosing your lips around the bright pink dessert. And he swears he’s going to blow his pants when he envisions the melted sugar shooting into your mouth with the swiftest hollowing of your cheeks, the quiet suction noise you make with your pursed lips forcing him to adjust the way he’s sitting.

…The final instance takes the cake.

“What’s your major?”

You’re in the home library grazing some of Dad’s old books and vinyls, talking to Eddie while your father gets ready for the day. Meanwhile, Eddie is perched at your dad’s desk, rolling around in his expensive swivel chair and occasionally doing some spins on it to make you laugh.

“History.”

“Sounds boring.”

“You just haven’t found a topic that interests you,” you point out.

“Mm,” is all Eddie says. “Maybe I will eventually.”

Eddie watches as you waltz around in front of him, following your movements with his eyes as you get onto your tippy-toes in order to grab some books on the top shelf.

“Oh my god!” you yelp.

Your plan to entice him seemingly fails when you graze a book that’s halfway off the shelf. It’s already flying off of its platform, headed straight towards Eddie's lap before you can even stop it.

Eddie catches it before any damage can be done, saving Dad’s old campaign book with the hand furthest from you and snaking the other around your waist to prevent you from sinking any further into him.

Phew. Crisis averted.

Your eyes meet again.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you gasp in embarrassment. “That book has a mind of its own.”

“You’re fine,” Eddie laughs. “Can’t defy the laws of gravity. Sometimes it betrays us.”

You feel yourself burning up a fever. Excusing yourself from the room, you leave Dad’s library and make your way over to the kitchen for a glass of water.

But you’re nearly taken aback when you feel tight, calloused hands wrap around your hips, and like a feather it’s like you’re whisked away into the air, and soon your body is pressed up against the wall.

Slam!

Breathing heavily against each other now — chest to chest, lips so unbearably close you can smell the whiskey — Eddie draws you even closer to him. You both study each other intently. It’s like you’re waiting for the other to say something. Eddie does the honors and speaks first.

“I wasn’t born last night, doll. I was also your age at one point.”

———

To his own despair, Eddie touches himself later that night. Facing your room, he strokes his rock hard cock with his lotioned-up hand, running his thumb across the slit of his head, pretending it’s your tongue giving him a little tease like you did the popsicle.

“Fuuuck,” he grunts quietly. “You like when I fuck your throat, baby? Gonna suck me dry with that pretty little mouth of yours?”

You’re playing make-believe just as much. Because at the same time, in your room, you’re a drooling, pathetic mess, riding your wall-mounted toy to oblivion in your bathroom, legs trembling when the thick, veiny piece of silicone slams into the spongy part of your heat, initiating shock-waves all across your body.

“Eddie,” you find yourself blubbering. “EddieEddieEddieEddie…”

You both know it can’t be like this, but that was the mere thrill of it all. And when you both have overcome your peak, just one mere wall apart, the floodgates of guilt outweighs both your arousals the way it comes pouring in.

So, so wrong. But oh, so right.

You’re anticipating…waiting…aching for Eddie to make the next move.

He doesn’t.

“Going to the store again,” Eddie announces. “Hopefully this time they’ll have beef sausage. Need anything?”

Need you, is what you think. But you end up shaking your head, a part of you disappointed that you and Eddie won’t be able to spend some time alone together.

“No,” there’s defeat in your voice.

“Are you sure?” Eddie questions softly.

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Okay,” he gives you a grin, one in the form of a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be right back. You be good.”

“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes.

——

Eddie leaves the door of his room open that night. Just a smidge. You end up following the sound of his TV that he’s placed at a low volume, making out that it’s Seinfeld just by Jerry’s voice and the laugh track.

Your heart skips a beat as Eddie laughs along with the show, shaking his head at a stupid joke. But he shifts his focus immediately onto you when he sees you at the doorway.

“Having some alone time tonight?” you ask him.

“Mmm…not by choice,” he responds. “Tuckered your dad out after dinner doing P90X.”

Eddie follows a crazy workout routine. He says that it helps with his stamina, especially when he does crowd work during his stage performances. Your mind can’t help but wonder what else he may be using it for.

You snort. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t what you’d call an athlete in high school.”

Eddie laughs at that too. Both you and him know that.

He then pats the space on his bed beside him. “Wanna come watch with me?”

Your stomach does a series of cartwheels when you process Eddie’s question. You know what’s bound to happen if you follow through. And it seems Eddie knows it too. Even if there wasn’t any sexual tension between you both already, the concept of it all would rub anyone that way.

But you still follow through with it. Just like Eddie knew you would.

“You comfortable?” Eddie asks you, eyeing you endearingly as you squirm around on the bed.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“Good…” he replies, voice nearly at a strained whisper now.

You two watch the show in silence for a few minutes, exchanging commentary and pleasantries regarding the show every so often. It’s not too long after Eddie pulls a laugh from you that he starts closing up the space between you both, scooting himself closer…and resting his gruff palm over the base of your knee.

You inhale sharply as he does so. And evident by your refusal to pull away, it’s enough of a green light for Eddie to hike up further.

A soft moan escapes your mouth from the back of your flustered throat, but you bite your lip in restraint.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"For what?”

You shrug sheepishly as Eddie continues to graze your thigh. Your breathing falters even more.

“Don’t be scared,” Eddie coos.

“I’m not,” you insist.

“Then what’s stopping you from getting on top of me? Hm?”

He’s in between your legs now, the rough material of his denim jeans riding up your sex, teasing your clit with every calculated rub against it.

“And riding my rock hard cock til those pretty legs give out?” Eddie continues. “I see how you’ve been looking at me, doll. It's all over your face how bad you want it.”

“The bed is squeaky,” you answer honestly. “And that headboard is a lost cause.”

Eddie puts the dirty talk on pause, squirming around to assess the guest bed’s squeak factor. When it checks out, he gives you an understanding nod. You giggle.

Eddie wastes no more time. You watch as he grabs one of the pillows on the bed and wedges it between the wall and headboard. He issues you a sly smile.

“Oldest trick in the book.”

You're back to fooling around shortly after, your aching core burning with lust as you pine for him.

“The boys at school ever touch you this good?” Eddie quips rubbing circles around your puffy, needy folds as you hopelessly cling to him out of pleasure.

“No, Eddie.”

“Didn’t think so.”

He continues to tease, gliding his fingers along your slit before slowly inserting two large digits inside of you.

His calculated pumps into your needy pussy are steady, a pace so agonizingly beautiful that it makes you squeal sweet nothings into the crook of his neck.

"Shh, baby," Eddie hushes you. "Your dad's gonna hear us. Gotta be quiet for me, mkay?"

Your hot, messy, and muffled sounds cease as Eddie soothes your quivering lips with his tender ones.

The wet sounds that ricochet and fill the room in tandem is almost enough to send him over. And Eddie is sure to communicate that… with an abrupt curving of his three thick fingers.

Fuck.

Needing him direly now, you tug helplessly at his pants.

“God, Eddie,” you whimper. “Just fuck me already. Please.”

Eddie laughs at the desperation. He hasn’t ravaged you to his fullest extent yet, and you’re already a pooling mess beside him.

“Well since you said please, sweet girl,” Eddie obliges as he starts to undress himself. “Your wish is my command."

You watch Eddie as reaches over into the bedside drawer for a fresh box of condoms. Looks like the sausage links weren't the only things he went to the store for.

“Oh.”

Eddie chuckles at your observation before shrugging. Can you really blame him? You both knew what was coming.

You watch with absolute lust as Eddie slides the piece of rubber over his long, girthy, throbbing cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before, and the snarky, hooded-eye smile as he watches you fawn reveals to you that he knows exactly how to use it.

"On your stomach, babygirl. Will have you all nice and pounded out just like you wanted.”

You situate yourself in prone and spread your legs for Eddie to line himself up against them. He teases his wrapped cock against the entrance of your pussy, and when his soothing countdown is over, your lips part in disposition as you accommodate his ruinous stretch.

A throaty moan spills out of the both of you the moment Eddie snaps his hips in and out of you. Meanwhile, one of his hands lays tauntingly at your stomach, so the prideful man can feel himself wriggling inside you, glazing his shaft with your slick more and more with every pump into your weak cunt.

"Fuck, Eddie... yes..." you mewl. "R-right there, Eddie, please..."

And then it picks up. You can feel Eddie’s hips practically collapse right onto you, his balls slapping against you as he digs further into your body.

"God damn..." the man sighs in disbelief.

He can only beam down at you in awe. You were taking him so good, pussy swallowing him so nice and tight. And when you nestle your ankles between each other to keep him there in prone, the nearly cries out in pleasure, but refrains because he knows your dad is resting — just a thin wall over.

That still doesn’t stop him from going to town though. Practically seeing stars, the broken record of a mouth that belongs to you chants Eddie’s name like it’s all you know. Eddie attempts to keep you contained, offering you his fingers to suck on as he’s railing you dumb.

And when he fucks you through your climax, Eddie continues with his string of lust-filled praises, satisfied at himself that he was able to make you wet enough to soak the mattress.

“Did so good for me, angel,” he praises you as he sucks at your temple. “Always knew you weren’t all that innocent.”

The griddle comes out again on Eddie’s last day. But this time, for a homestyle southern dinner.

You and Eddie were on mashed potatoes and gravy duty at the stove, an ordeal that only opened doors for lots of innuendos on Eddie’s part. Meanwhile, Dad insisted on making the rest, having taken pride in continuing his Mama’s legacy.

“This is amazing, Daddy,” you rave. “I really missed this. Do you mind passing the salt, please?”

And to your horror, you watch as your father and Eddie automatically extend their arms, bumping into one another in the process en route to getting you the salt.

The gentlemen meet each other’s eyes.

“Ohp!” Eddie exclaims, letting out a slight chuckle. “Sorry.”

You try your hardest not to blush. Eddie kicks you from under the table, and softly he oh-so-seductively he mutters,

“I was just tryna help her out.”

[valkyriexo]

Friday Night Lights | Lee Know

ᑉ³pairing; Jock Lee Know x Nerd Reader

ᑉ³genre; Fluff, Smut

ᑉ³warnings; SMUT MDNI ,dirty talk, swearing, oral m reciving,

ᑉ³Authors Note; 1k event Commisson giveaway winner Louie <3 (sorry it took so long :((( )

You’re used to staying in your lane.

In college, that means your nights are spent at the library, working on assignments, attending study groups, or listening to the whispers of people about crushes, weekend plans, and sometimes, the star athletes on campus. You don't usually pay much attention to that last one—until the whispers turn to Lee Minho. Lee Minho is… different. Confident, popular, and utterly untouchable. He’s the star of the football team, the guy people can’t stop talking about, but also somehow your friend.

Well, sort of.

You met through Jisung, your mutual friend, who has a way of pulling people together. You’ve spoken a few times—mostly polite hellos and small talk whenever Jisung ropes you into attending his hangouts—but every time you do, you find yourself tripping over your words.

You tell yourself it’s nothing—he’s just another guy, after all. But the way your heart races every time his attention flickers to you says otherwise.

“You’re coming to Minho’s game this Friday, right?” Jisung’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

You blink, caught off guard, and turn to face him. “What?”

Jisung leans back in his chair, balancing it on two legs like he always does, completely unfazed. “The game. This Friday. You’re coming, right?” He grins, as if your attendance is already a done deal.

“I don’t know...” you trail off, trying to avoid his expectant gaze. Crowds aren’t really your thing, and the idea of sitting through a packed football game is enough to make your stomach churn.

“Oh, come on,” he groans, dropping the chair back onto all four legs with a loud thud. “You’ve been holed up in this library all week. You need a break.”

You frown, shuffling your notebook to pretend like you’re busy. “I don’t really do... games.”

“You don’t have to ‘do games.’ You just have to show up. Cheer a little, look cute, and maybe—just maybe—have fun.” His tone is light, but the sly look he shoots you suggests he’s up to something.

Your suspicion grows. “Why do you care if I go?”

“Because it’s the homecoming game,” he says. “You know, one of the biggest games of the year? Minho’s going to kill me if you don’t show up.”

When you don’t respond, he rolls his eyes. “You know, Minho? Our mutual friend? The guy you can barely form a sentence around?”

“I do not—”

“Yes, you do,” he interrupts with a smile, leaning forward on his elbows. “And I think he’d appreciate the support. He’s been working really hard this season, and besides...”

You tilt your head, confused. “Why would he care if I’m there? I’ve never even been to one of his games.”

“That’s exactly why he’d care!” Jisung groans, throwing his head back dramatically. “Do you know how many times he’s asked me why you never go? He thinks you hate football or something.”

“I don’t hate football,” you say defensively, though the thought of navigating the chaotic energy of a packed stadium doesn’t exactly fill you with joy. “I’ve just... never really had a reason to go.”

Jisung smirks, leaning forward on his elbows. “Well, now you do.The entire campus is going to be there—students, alumni, even the marching band’s pulling out all the stops. It’s a whole thing. You have to come.”

You hesitate, nibbling on your bottom lip. It’s not like you don’t want to support Minho—he’s always been kind to you in his own aloof, confident way. But showing up at a game, where everyone’s eyes will be on him—and by extension, anyone he cares about—feels overwhelming.

“I don’t know, Ji. Crowds aren’t really my thing.”

“Crowds aren’t the thing,” he says, cutting you off with a sly grin. “Minho is."

Your stomach flips at the thought. You’ve never seen him play before, never witnessed the version of Minho everyone talks about when they say his name with awe. The star athlete, the leader on the field.

“I’ll think about it,” you mumble, quickly shuffling your papers as an excuse to avoid Jisung’s knowing look.

“Uh-huh,” he says, sitting back with an exaggerated shrug. “Just don’t be surprised when I text you the details anyway. You’re not getting out of this that easily.”

So, somehow, you find yourself in the bleachers that Friday night, bundled in your warmest jacket, pretending you’re not scanning the field for one particular player. It doesn’t take long for you to find him. Even among his teammates, Minho stands out, laughing with them, helmet under one arm as he warms up. It’s a little surreal, watching him from here; he’s all focus and intensity, so different from the relaxed, teasing guy you usually see at Jisung’s hangouts. You can’t help feeling your heart race a little faster.

As the game starts, you find yourself getting drawn in, caught up in the energy around you. The team is good, and Minho, even better. It’s not hard to see why he’s the star. Every play he’s part of feels....different. He’s practically flying across the field, tackling opponents, calling shots, making everything look effortless. You can’t keep your eyes off him.

And then it happens.

It’s fast—too fast, really—and at first, you’re not sure what’s wrong.

One second, Minho is sprinting down the field, his face set with determination as he cuts through defenders like they’re nothing. The next, there’s a collision, hard and brutal. The sound of it echoes in the stadium, a collective gasp rising from the crowd.

Your breath catches as you see him go down, gripping his ankle. For a moment, everything else disappears—the noise of the crowd, the whistle from the referee, even Jisung’s voice shouting something beside you. All you can see is Minho on the ground, pain written across his face.

Your heart pounds as players gather around him, the medics rushing onto the field. He tries to get up, but it’s clear he can’t put any weight on his leg. The sight twists something deep in your chest, and before you realize what you’re doing, you’re halfway to your feet.

“Hey,” Jisung says, grabbing your arm and pulling you back down. “He’ll be okay. It’s probably just a sprain or something.”

But Jisung’s words do little to calm the panic bubbling inside you. From this distance, you can’t hear what the medics are saying, but the way Minho shakes his head and slams his fist into the ground tells you it’s bad.

The game pauses as they help him off the field, his arm slung around a teammate’s shoulder, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. Your stomach churns, and for the rest of the game, no matter how loud the crowd gets or how exciting the plays are, you can’t focus. Your eyes keep drifting to the sideline, where Minho sits with his head down, his ankle wrapped in ice.

And all you can think about is how you wish you could do something to help him.

The rest of the game feels like a blur. The energy in the stadium surges back eventually, but not for you. Your eyes keep flicking toward the sideline, where Minho sits with his injured leg propped up, his arms crossed and a stormy expression on his face. Even from a distance, you can see the tension in his shoulders, the way he’s forcing himself to stay composed despite the obvious frustration simmering beneath the surface.

Jisung nudges you with his elbow, breaking your trance. “Relax. Minho’s tough. He’ll be fine.”

You nod stiffly, not trusting your voice enough to reply. Jisung’s probably right—Minho is strong, the kind of guy who shrugs off pain like it’s nothing. But something about the way he looked when they carried him off the field makes your chest feel heavy.

When the game finally ends, with your school securing a narrow victory, the crowd erupts in cheers. Students flood the field to celebrate, but you can’t seem to share their enthusiasm. Instead, you find yourself lingering near the bleachers, watching as the team huddles together, Minho still sitting apart, his helmet resting forgotten at his feet.

“Come on,” Jisung says, tugging on your sleeve. “Let’s go check on him.”

Your heart skips. “What? No. He’s probably surrounded by people—he doesn’t need me there.”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re his friend too. Besides, if you don’t come, I’ll just tell him you were too shy to say hi, and then he’ll feel bad.”

You glare at him, but the teasing glint in his eyes leaves you with no room to argue. Before you know it, you’re weaving through the lingering crowd, your pulse quickening with every step closer to the team’s bench.

When you reach him, Minho is leaning back against the bench, his jaw clenched and his eyes distant. His ankle is now heavily wrapped, a crutch resting beside him.

“Minho!” Jisung calls, grinning as if nothing’s out of the ordinary. “You okay, man? That hit looked brutal.”

Minho glances up, his expression softening slightly when he sees Jisung—and then landing on you. His gaze lingers for a moment, and you suddenly forget how to breathe.

“I’ve been better,” he mutters, managing a wry smile. “But I’ll live.”

“You scared the crap out of them,” Jisung says, jerking his thumb in your direction. “They were about to jump the fence and carry you off the field themself.”

“Jisung!” you hiss, smacking his arm, but Minho chuckles, the sound low and warm despite the situation.

“You were worried about me?” he asks, tilting his head as he looks at you.

Your cheeks burn, and you scramble for a response that doesn’t make you sound ridiculous. “I mean... you went down pretty hard. Anyone would’ve been worried.”

His smile widens, a hint of his usual confidence returning. “Well, thanks for caring.”

The simplicity of his words, paired with the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, sends your heart into overdrive. You want to say more, to ask if he’s really okay, but the weight of his gaze and the teasing grin tugging at his lips leaves you tongue-tied.

“Anyway,” Jisung cuts in, oblivious to the tension hanging in the air, “you should let them take care of you. They're great at worrying—practically a professional.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands as Minho chuckles again.

“Noted,” he says, his tone lighter now, almost playful. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

And just like that, you realize you might be in deeper than you ever thought.

Over the next two weeks, Minho’s injury changes things. He’s benched for practices, forced to watch from the sidelines while his teammates run drills and scrimmage. The ever-present crutches are a constant reminder of his temporary setback, though he still somehow makes them look effortlessly cool.

The trouble starts when Jisung complains one afternoon, flopping dramatically into the seat next to you in the library.

“I can’t keep babysitting Minho,” he groans. “We don’t even have the same classes, and Coach keeps glaring at me every time I’m late because I’m helping him to practice. You should do it.”

You frown. “Me? Why me?”

Jisung grins slyly, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “You’re the only other person he talks to as much as me. Besides, you’re better at dealing with his diva moments.”

“Diva moments?” you ask, incredulous.

“Oh, you’ll see.”

Despite your protests, Jisung isn’t one to take no for an answer, and by the next morning, Minho’s waiting for you outside your lecture hall, leaning on his crutches with an easy grin.

“Hey,” he says casually, as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

You blink at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Jisung said you’d help me get to practice,” he replies, his grin widening when he sees the look on your face. “Don’t worry. I’m not that high-maintenance.”

You sigh, already feeling like you’re in over your head. “Fine. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

Helping Minho quickly becomes a routine. Every afternoon, you meet him after his last class to walk—well, technically hobble—to the field. At first, it’s awkward, mostly because Minho seems determined to act like his injury isn’t a big deal, even when he’s obviously struggling. But over time, the walks become... easier.

Minho, for all his bravado, is surprisingly easy to talk to. He asks you questions about your classes, your favorite things, even what made you decide to go to the homecoming game. His teasing is still there, but it’s lighter, less guarded, and you find yourself opening up to him in ways you didn’t expect.

One afternoon, as you’re walking back from practice, Minho turns to you suddenly.

“You don’t have to keep doing this, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

He gestures to his crutches, his expression unusually serious. “Helping me. I know it’s a hassle.”

You stop walking, frowning at him. “It’s not a hassle, Minho. I don’t mind.”

He looks at you for a long moment, something unspoken passing between you. Then, he smiles—soft and genuine, the kind that makes your heart skip.

“Thanks,” he says quietly.

You’re about to keep walking when he doesn’t move, shifting his weight awkwardly on his crutches. His expression tightens like he’s debating something with himself, and before you can ask, he speaks again.

“You know... I'm not kidding,” he says, his voice lower now.

“Kidding about what?” you ask, genuinely confused.

“About this being a hassle,” he replies, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “But not for the reasons you think.”

You tilt your head, frowning. “Minho, that doesn’t even make sense.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, the sound more nervous than amused. “What I mean is... it’s a hassle because I’m trying really hard not to screw this up.”

Your heart skips. “Screw what up?”

“This,” he says, his dark eyes locking on yours. “Us. Whatever this is. Because, honestly? I like you.”

The words hit you like a wave, and you’re left standing there, staring at him as your brain scrambles to catch up.

“You… like me?” you echo, your voice barely above a whisper.

Minho nods, shifting his grip on his crutches as if they’re the only thing grounding him. “Yeah, I do. I’ve been trying not to make it obvious, but these past couple of weeks? Spending time with you, talking to you... it’s just made it harder to ignore.”

Your breath catches, and for a moment, you’re not sure what to say. “Minho, I—”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupts, his tone gentle but firm. “I just needed you to know. Even if you don’t feel the same, I... I couldn’t keep pretending I didn’t care about you like this.”

The raw honesty in his voice takes you by surprise, and before you can second-guess yourself, the words tumble out.

“I do feel the same,” you admit, your cheeks burning as you look at him. “I just didn’t think you would.”

Minho blinks, clearly startled, before his lips curve into a slow, disbelieving smile. “You mean that?”

You nod, unable to stop the small smile creeping onto your face. “Yeah, I do.”

For a moment, he just looks at you, his expression soft and full of something you can’t quite name. Then, he exhales a laugh, shaking his head.

“Well, that’s a relief,” he says, his grin widening. “I was starting to think Jisung would kill me if I didn’t say something.”

You laugh, the tension between you melting away. “He probably would.”

Minho straightens up, his confidence sliding back into place. “So, does this mean I can keep making you carry my stuff to practice? You know, since you like me and all.”

You roll your eyes, already regretting this. “Don’t push your luck, Minho.”

The days blend together, and somewhere in the middle of it all, you realize you’ve started looking forward to your time with him. The walks, the conversations, the way he glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking—it’s all so much more than you ever thought it could be.

But today feels different.

When you show up to meet Minho after practice, the field is empty. His crutches aren’t propped up by the bench where he usually waits, and there’s no sign of his teammates. You glance around, your chest tightening with a mix of confusion and unease.

“Minho?” you call out, but the only answer is the faint hum of fluorescent lights from the building nearby.

Frowning, you decide to check inside. The locker room is usually bustling after practice, but as you step in, it’s eerily quiet. The air smells faintly of sweat and detergent, and the echo of your footsteps makes the space feel even emptier.

You turn a corner, and that’s when you see him.

Minho is sitting on one of the benches, his crutches leaning against the wall beside him. His head is bowed, his hair falling into his face as he stares at the ground. There’s a tension in his posture, his shoulders hunched like he’s carrying the weight of the world.

“Minho?” you say softly, stepping closer.

He doesn’t look up right away, but you see the subtle way his shoulders relax at the sound of your voice. “Hey,” he mutters, his tone lacking its usual spark.

You sit down beside him, your knee brushing against his. “What’s going on? I thought we were meeting outside.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I just... needed a minute.”

You wait, giving him the space to speak. When he finally looks at you, his eyes are shadowed with something you don’t see often—uncertainty.

“I hate this,” he admits quietly, gesturing to the crutches beside him. “Sitting out, watching everyone else practice, knowing I can’t do anything. It’s... frustrating.”

Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his voice. “Minho, it’s okay to feel that way,” you say gently. “But this is temporary. You’ll be back out there before you know it.”

He scoffs, his lips pressing into a thin line. “What if I’m not? What if I come back and I’m not as good? Or worse, what if I get hurt again?”

“Then you deal with it,” you say firmly, surprising even yourself. “Because you’re Minho. You don’t let anything stop you. And besides...” You hesitate, your voice softening. “You’re more than just football. At least, to me you are.”

He blinks, his eyes searching yours. “You really mean that?”

You nod, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from his face. “Of course I do. You’re amazing, Minho, even when you’re not on the field.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his expression unreadable. Then, he reaches for your hand, his fingers warm as they curl around yours.

Minho’s thumb traces over your knuckles in gentle circles, and he looks down at your intertwined hands with a soft, almost shy smile.

There’s something unspoken hanging in the air between you, a feeling that’s been growing with every passing day, but now, in the quiet of the locker room, it’s impossible to ignore.

You feel it too—the shift, the tension, the undeniable pull drawing you closer. His gaze lifts from your hands to your face, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.

For a moment, neither of you moves. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the stillness of the locker room, the soft sound of his breath mingling with yours.

“You know,” Minho starts, his voice low, almost hesitant, “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.”

Your heart beats faster, your pulse quickening. “Do what?” you whisper, even though you already know.

Minho doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he leans in slowly, his face inching closer to yours, his lips barely brushing against the air between you. His hand moves to your cheek, his fingers warm and gentle against your skin.

And then, without another word, his lips are on yours.

It’s tentative at first, soft and uncertain, as if he’s waiting for you to pull away, but you don’t. You tilt your head, your free hand reaching up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. When you kiss him back, it’s like everything clicks into place—like this was always meant to happen.

The kiss deepens, slow and explorative, as if you’re both savoring the moment. His lips are soft, warm, and he smells like freshly cut grass and the faintest trace of cologne. His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and you respond in kind, your other hand finding its way to his waist, holding him against you.

For a long moment, it’s just the two of you, lost in the feeling of something new and exciting, something neither of you ever expected. And when you finally pull away, breathless and slightly dazed, Minho rests his forehead against yours, his smile lazy but full of warmth.

“I think,” he murmurs, his voice low, “I could get used to this.”

You smile, feeling a quiet thrill at the thought. “Then I guess we’ll have to make it happen.”

Minho's grin softens, his hand still warm against your cheek, and he leans in once more.

This time, the kiss is different—deeper, more certain. There’s no hesitation, no wondering if this is okay. His other hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space between you. His lips move against yours, gentle yet deliberate, as if he’s making up for all the times he’d held back.

You respond, feeling braver now, your fingers finding their way to his collar, tugging him just a bit closer. The locker room is completely forgotten; it’s just you and Minho, the world melting away around you.

You wanted him, of this you were sure.

"Darling, why don't you let me help you forget about it all?" You purred, as your hands made their way down his chest stopping at his waist. You pulled him towards you and kissed him harder, your need for him overpowering any doubt that was left in your mind.

You knelt between his legs, the anticipation building between you. You place both of your hands on his legs and slowly began to push them apart, allowing yourself to slide in between.

"Y/n…" he said, placing his hand on top of yours, almost as if to stop you. His fingers lingered, trembling slightly. "A-Are you sure? " he said "I don't want to pressure you"

"Shh... let me," you replied softly, as you began to unbuckle his belt, your eyes never leaving his. "I want you, Minho. I want this."

He groaned as you palmed him through his boxers. You could feel him getting harder under your hands.

"Y-you don't have to, baby" He said through his moans. You slowly pulled down his boxers, his  erection springing free. "We can take it slo-OH," You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his pink tip.

You continued by placing a trail of kisses down his cock, keeping eye contact with him. You licked your way back up to the tip and took him in your mouth, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip, tasting his pre-cum as it seeped from the top.

He couldn't help but throw his head back and lean further onto the bench. His breath caught in his throat as his ears began to turn a shade of red. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head of his cock.

The only thing heard in the locker room is the lewd sounds coming from your mouth along with his whimpers.

Minho moaned loudly, his hips bucking involuntarily. You took him deeper into your mouth and sucking harder than before. You reached up to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your fingers as you continued to pleasure him.

"Fuck, Y/N," He moaned. "That feels so good. You're so good."

You responded with a low growl, taking him even deeper, his tip kissing the back of your throat.

Your lips were locked around his shaft. You choked slightly around his cock, tears beginning to fall from your eyes as his tip hit the back of your throat continuously.

He whined for more, almost sobbing when you completely removed yourself from around him, removing your lips from him with a pop.

You lick your way up his cock, once again paying extra attention to his swollen tip. His gaze locked onto yours, he began to thrust his hips forward, his thick, hard cock pressing against your lips. You parted them slightly, allowing him to slide inside once again.

He began to fuck your mouth roughly, his cock sliding in and out of your throat with each thrust. You could feel the saliva dripping down your chin, but you didn't care - the only thing that mattered was pleasing him.

"I'm go-gonna.... fuck.. gonna cum." he said, his thrusts beginning to slow down.

You feel the familiar slip of your glasses down the bridge of your nose, threatening to fall off completely.

Before you can react, Minho’s hand gently brushes against your nose, and with a soft chuckle, he reaches up, pushing your glasses back into place. His fingers linger just a moment longer than necessary, his touch warm against your skin. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, your glasses sliding sending him overboard, and his cum paints your throat. You swallowed, your eyes never leaving his as you sucked him dry. 

He pulled his cock out, and you pressed your thumb down onto his dripping red tip.

The lower half of your face glistens, your features wet with your his cum.

"Fuck you're pretty" he said hold your chin with his hand. “I didn’t know you knew how to do that," his voice a mix of amusement and admiration. “You’ve always seemed like the super nerdy type—guess I was wrong.”

You laugh, feeling a bit shy under his gaze. “Well, I do have my moments of... unexpected skills.”

Minho’s smile softens, and he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you reply, a grin tugging at your lips. “Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out more.”

He chuckles, leaning in again, and you both fall back into the moment, the world outside fading away once more.

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[venusdews]

revolving door

xavier [沈星回] + female reader

synopsis. you can't seem to let xavier go, but neither can he.

genre & contents. 18+! MDNI! guitarist!xavier, smut, angsttt (more than i intended...), toxic established relationship, xavier is in a band and he's also your ex, oral sex (receiving), overstimulation, mentions of blood/guns, manipulation... wc; 3.8k+

author's note. am i bitter about not getting lumiere? no... of course not... it only pushed me to finish this that's all... enjoy <3

The sun is warm on your skin.

Through the half open curtain, the rays peek through gently. The first hints of dawn enveloping you into a warm and gentle caress. You sigh contently, arms coming above your head as you stretch.

You almost forget whose bed you're in.

You still, eyes widening as the memories of the night before slowly come back to mind. A mixture of too-sweet cocktails, longing gazes, and the familiar scent of a certain cologne.

You hadn’t been expecting to see your ex-boyfriend last night. Neither had you expected to end up in his bed again, not after the way things had ended just two months ago.

Although you tried convincing yourself otherwise, you missed him. You had gotten good at pretending, but this week had been particularly rough. You needed a night out badly.

It left you vulnerable. Or, at least that was the excuse you’d use this time.

Xavier brought your walls down at the snap of his fingers.

One glance at him through the Friday night crowd was enough to push you towards him. After the tequila shots had made their way through your bloodstream, it was oh, so easy to slip back into his arms. You try to blame it on alcohol flowing through your veins. 

There was no excuse, you knew that. Even so, you needed to find a way to justify the way your body leaned into him once he placed his hands on your waist. 

The way your heart raced with every pulse of the music. The way you let him take you away once his eyes twinkled with desire under the strobing lights. They were all telltale signs of your persistent feelings for him.

Maybe it was futile to fight against fate. No matter how hard you tried to stay away, no matter how much time you spent away, you always found yourself back here. With him.

Slowly turning your head, your eyes lock onto Xavier’s sleeping face.

“Fuuuuck,” you whisper softly.

Your eyes trail to his exposed torso, littered with black ink. You find yourself analyzing every stroke, every shade that expands throughout his chest, down his biceps to his slender fingers. As you look at his face once again, you notice the pink and purple hues on his neck. The way he managed to look so enticing like this almost made you roll your eyes.

Oh, you needed to leave, like, now.

Slowly pulling the covers off of your body, you look down only to realize you were completely naked. Stifling a groan, your eyes dart around the room, finding your clothes scattered. You lift yourself off the bed, stumbling as a soreness shoots up your legs. 

You tiptoe around his room, attempting to move as quietly as possible. Though you knew Xavier could sleep through anything, you didn’t want to take that risk, especially right now. You find your dress first, slipping it over your head. As you smooth it over your body, you look in the mirror, catching sight of the huge tear on the side. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” it comes out louder than you meant, and you hear Xavier shifting on the bed. He turns, brows furrowed and arms searching where you used to lay. You still, eyeing him for any sign of life. 

He doesn’t wake.

Your fingers trace the frayed seams, a pout finding its way to your face. This was your favorite dress. You sigh, looking around for your panties that somehow ended up on the lampshade in the corner. You snatch them, quickly slipping them on and clutching your heels to your chest.

Fuck, you didn’t bring a sweater.

You eye yourself in the mirror, scowling at your disheveled appearance, before deciding to grab a jacket from his closet. 

What he doesn’t know won’t kill him right?

Besides, it was the least he could do.

You slip out of his room, releasing your breath as soon as your hand wraps around the doorknob of his front door. You should be ashamed at how easy it was to navigate through his apartment, as if it was your own. Well, at one point, it was. 

You turn the knob, so close to freedom—

“Leaving without saying goodbye?”

You jump, whipping your head around to see Xavier standing behind you. His voice is low, laced with sleep, and you can’t help the way your eyes fall to his exposed torso. Of course, he notices, if his upturned lips are anything to go by.

“I have work to do,” you say quickly, hoping he doesn’t notice the way you lie through your teeth. Truthfully, you don’t even know why you felt the need to.

He crosses his arms, as if he wants you to check out his deliciously ripe biceps. “On a Saturday?”

You roll your eyes, huffing and mimicking his stance. “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“Besides, you know last night… shouldn’t have happened.”

He tilts his head. You want to throw your shoe at his head to get him to stop looking at you with those confused doe eyes. 

“Why not?” he asks, as if he really didn’t know.

It was not long ago that you swore you’d never find yourself in front of him again. You went no contact for a reason, knowing that if he had the chance to talk to you again you’d end up right back here.

But, staring at him now, the yearning in his eyes, you remember the way he had touched you last night. The things he did, you wondered if he meant for them to happen. If he really missed you as much as you missed him.

And, suddenly, you can’t seem to recall why you had ended things.

It was easy, too easy, to want to slip back in bed and let him wrap his arms around you. Like he always did after a night filled with rough kisses and lingering marks. You swallow at the thought of how he used to gently kiss them over the morning after. 

It had been too long since you last felt cared for like that. Since you last felt his care.

“You know why, Xavier.” You punctuate his name, hoping that it will serve as a way to remind you of where you stand with him.

He rubs his neck, as if he’s embarrassed. You must be seeing things now. Xavier? He’s never one to get embarrassed. Before you can say anything else, he’s walking over to the kitchen. 

“At least stay for breakfast,” he starts pulling out a pan and looking at his fridge. “I’ll make us something.”

“I doubt that’s gonna be edible.” you counter, silently cursing at your heart when it flutters at his smile. You were walking on a tightrope here.

“Actually,” he sings, pulling out enough ingredients to make a… nutritious breakfast? It almost makes your mouth drop in shock. The Xavier you knew never had anything but expired jam and stale bread in his kitchen. “I’ve been practicing my cooking. I think I deserve a redo.”

You weren’t sure how this made you feel. Though, your rushing heartbeat was saying enough.

“A redo from the time you almost burned down my apartment?” you unconsciously smile at the memory. And, as much as you don’t want to, you find yourself inching closer to him.

You watch as he clumsily cracks eggs over the pan. It was so… domestic. Too reminiscent of mornings spent together, when you did the cooking while he leaned on your shoulder, peppering kisses on your—

This was dangerous.

“Xavier,” you say, willing away any trace of a smile left on your face. His gaze finds yours, and you almost crumble completely at the way his face falls. “I… really do need to go.”

“Oh,” he clears his throat, setting down the spatula in his hand. “Alright.”

You’re turning on your feet before he can say anything else, afraid of what it might make you do. You should feel strong, walking out of your ex-boyfriend’s apartment without letting him get under your skin. But, you can’t get his stupid pout out of your head.

This time he lets you slip through the door. Slipping your heels on outside of his door, you waste no time in getting out of the building, uncaring of the strange looks thrown your way as you walk to your place.

Head now pulsing, you feel disoriented. It’s like you got the wind knocked out of you. You’re unsure if it's the incoming hangover or the feelings that Xavier left you with. How did he feel so familiar yet completely different at the same time? 

As you near your apartment complex, your phone starts vibrating from somewhere in your bag.

FROM: DO NOT ANSWER!!!

it was nice to see U again i missed U

You scoff, about to put it away when it chimes again.

U look good in my jacket btw

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

“You did WHAT?!”

The phone speaker crackles. You wince, glad you couldn’t see Tara’s face right now. Bringing your hands to cover your eyes, you fall onto your bed.

It had been hours since you had left him on read, rushing into your apartment to wash away all of the sins you had committed last night. As much as you scrubbed at your skin, the thoughts of Xavier lingered.

His eyes, his lips, his scent.

Okay, relax. 

Stop thinking about his stupid pretty face.

And how much you wish he was here.

“I know,” you groan. Growing desperate, you called the only person who could actually talk some sense into you, Tara. Though, you were starting to regret ever telling her anything.

“Okay,” she sighs. “It’s not that bad. I mean, it was just sex, right? We all have our weak moments. Let’s blame it on your hormonal cycle.”

You giggle at that, because while she probably wasn’t wrong, it felt way, way worse than that.

It definitely had been more than sex. At least for you.

“Tara,” you sit up, looking at his haphazardly folded jacket in the corner of your room. “He started cooking breakfast for me.”

You hear her cough through your phone’s speaker. 

“Xavier?! Your Xavier cooked… breakfast?!” you try to ignore the way your stomach flips when she calls him yours.

What the hell was he doing to you?

“Oh my god!” Tara giggles, you bring your fingers to your temples. “Wow, he’s really pulling out all the stops.” she’s laughing uncontrollably now, clearly amused at his attempts. You wish you felt the same.

She quiets down once she notices your silence.

“Don’t tell me you’re… actually falling for this?” 

You groan, rubbing at your eyes until you see stars. Tara groans too, mumbling your name exasperatedly. 

Truthfully, yes, you might have just been falling for it. But admitting that out loud? That was taking it too far. 

“No, no, I’m not.” but you both know it's a weak attempt at lying.

“Do you remember what you told me when you broke up with him?”

“What?” you question, unsure of what she was talking about. You said a lot of things when you left him. A lot of things you were walking back already.

Your phone vibrates from where it's laying on your bed, and you grab it at an embarrassing speed.

FROM: DO NOT ANSWER!!!

i have a show tmr nite

“You told me if you ever got back with him to shoot you dead.”

id like for U to be there if not for me then for my jacket  U know its my favorite one ;)

You laugh humorlessly. 

“You might need a gun soon.”

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

The familiar red glow of the venue name is like a warning sign.

The sun has tucked away into the horizon, a deep blue painting the cloudy sky. Tiny droplets fall from the sky onto your nose, making you flinch. You wipe at your face, scowling. You had gotten here half an hour ago, yet your feet seemed to be cemented into the ground.

But the rain was coming more quickly now, heavier. And you knew you couldn’t stand out here for much longer unless you wanted to get soaked. 

You told yourself it was just to drop off his jacket. That’s it. You would make it clear there was nothing more for him to take from you. You needed to cut it off now, before you were in too deep.

More people trickle into the building, and you take a deep breath trying to still your racing heart. Left hand gripping his jacket, you open the door and step into the smell of cigarettes and wood.

The venue is almost filled to the brim, as expected when the show was ten minutes to start. You head straight to the bar, hoping to get a clearer vantage point. All you needed to do was find Xavier before he went on stage so you could easily slip back out.

But when you reach the counter, another familiar voice calls out your name,

You turn, surprised to see Jeremiah, the band’s drummer, staring at you incredulously. The bartender slides him a glass but he continues to stare at you like you just came back from the dead.

“Wow, I never thought I’d see you here again.” His tone is light, teasing, but it reminds you of your own undoing. You suppress your wince, forcing a laugh.

“I’m just here to drop something off. Have you seen Xavier?” you felt bad for cutting it short with him, but right now you needed to leave before you were anchored down.

Something unreadable flashes across his eyes, his lips pulling into a thin line.

“Uh, yeah.” he coughs, taking the whiskey glass with him as he motions you to follow him.

Suddenly, you feel unsettled. A pit forms in your stomach as you walk behind him, pushing through the crowd. You reach backstage after he greets the security guard.

“I’d, uh, knock before going in.” Jeremiah says, an almost pitiful look in his eyes as he leaves you in front of a dressing room. You nod slightly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Thanks.” you mumble, but you’re unsure if he even hears you as he walks away.

Xavier’s name is scribbled on the door.

Though the crowd’s buzzing with excitement, you can make out two voices clearly. 

A woman’s laugh. Xavier’s low voice.

Before you can tap your knuckles against the door, it opens, and your suspicions are confirmed.

An attractive woman stands before you, smooth clear skin and ruffled black hair. Her dress straps are falling down her shoulders, lipstick smudged enough for you to notice. This was a familiar sight.

“S’cuse me,” she says, bashfully tilting her head down and slipping past you.

The door swings open wider, and there’s Xavier. Shirtless, so focused on buckling his belt that he doesn’t notice you stepping into the room.

Now this, this was the Xavier you knew.

And you know you have no right to feel so hurt. After all, this is exactly why you had chosen to walk out on him. This inescapable feeling of constant disappointment, and you had only yourself to blame. You were the one that got your hopes up. After what? A fucking breakfast?

What were you even expecting? For him to suddenly become the man you always wanted him to be? The man you always thought he could be?

You can’t change a leopard’s spots. 

You throw the jacket at Xavier’s face, and he jumps back, surprised. 

“What the f—!” The words on his tongue seem to dissipate once his eyes land on you. He opens and closes his mouth. It only makes you more angry. Whether at him or yourself you were unsure.

Xavier whispers your name gently, like it held any real meaning to him. 

“I… I didn’t think you were gonna show up.” He inches closer to you, but you take a step back. His face falls, as if he had any right to be offended by your gesture.

“I just came to drop this off.” it’s sharp, unapologetic, voice steadier than you feel.

“You’re not going to stay?” you scoff at his audacity to ask such a forgiving question.

“Are you seriously—” you stop, eyes widening at the bright red blood dripping down his cheek. 

“Xavier, your face.” you drop your arms to your side, walking towards him to look at his wound closely. Eyes shifting from the jacket on the ground to his face, you frown. The guilt bubbling up in your throat is hard to push back down.

Xavier stares at you vehemently, and you silently curse his sickly sweet eyes. Your hand comes to lightly touch his cheek. He winces but leans into your hand.

You swallow thickly, looking around for something to wipe the blood from his face. Grabbing a cotton pad from the vanity desk, you turn back to him.

He’s close, too close. His breathing is uneven, and you push him gently to sit down. His lashes flutter as you deftly swab his injury. You try to focus on him and not the way his hand comes up to grip your waist.

“I’m sor—”

“Stay,” Xavier doesn’t let you apologize, instead pulling you closer to him. “For the show, at least.”

Your hand comes to his chest, a way to put some sort of distance between you and him. You know you should push away, leave his embrace and leave this place. But your fingers spread onto the heat of his bare skin, against his heart.

“I… can’t.” you whisper, unable to find the sturdy voice you had just a few moments ago.

“Why not?” he asks, and this scene feels all too familiar.

“I’m meeting someone.” It's a lie. You don't even know why you say it. Maybe you wanted to make him feel like you did right now. It was a feeble attempt, but his eyes are fiery at the mention of someone else. 

Eyes darkening, he scoffs, fingers digging deeper into your skin. You can’t stand his searing gaze any longer, eyes falling to your feet.

“Who?” it's a demand, not a question. You open your mouth to speak, but a loud knock at the door stops you.

“Two minutes out!” 

Xavier throws his head back and sighs exasperatedly. He lets go of you to grab his black shirt, and you feel like you can finally breathe again. He stands, towering over you. You take a few shaky steps back, hands balling into fists at your side.

“Stay.” he states again, grabbing your wrist. He kisses your palm so softly it almost makes you gasp.

“Xavier—!” but he’s already halfway out the door, only turning to smirk at you.

“I’m sure they won’t mind.”

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

You’re not sure how you let it get this far.

This was supposed to go entirely different in your head. This time you were done, truly done. You were tired of the push and pull, this never-ending cycle of despondency. You were sure this would be the day you would end it for sure.

You came to Xavier’s show to end it. And even as his slender fingers strummed his guitar, sweat dripping from his forehead as he looked into your eyes from the stage, your resolve did not falter. You kept reminding yourself of the image of that woman coming out of his dressing room.

Even when he looked at you like you were the only one in the room.

So why Xavier was on his knees, head in between your thighs as he laps at your dripping cunt like a man starved, you didn’t know.

There was no excuse for it. As much as you tried, it was as if you just couldn’t walk away from him. Not when he treated you like this. Not when he knew your body so well.

He had been at it for what felt like hours, making your back arch with overwhelming pleasure over and over again. His tongue, unrelenting, even as your eyes welled with sensitivity. He would drink your wetness like it was the only water left on earth, only to continue pushing you over the edge.

“Xav— ah! Xavier, please!”

The venue had long been empty, and somehow Xavier had been able to convince the owner to let him close up. You should have known then that you would not be having the talk you wanted.

Though, you weren’t exactly complaining about how you ended up.

His eyes meet yours, and you can feel his hot breath over your swollen folds. “Please what, angel? I’m just trying to show you how much you mean to me.”

You’re a panting mess above him, chest rising and falling rapidly. Throwing your head back as your hands grip the stool behind you. How you were still standing was a mystery to you, though you suspect that Xavier’s iron grip on your hips was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

“Tell me,” his voice is low, hands trailing down your thighs. “Who else is going to have you like this?”

A whine slips out of you as his fingers slide down your slick folds. “Look at me, angel.”

You do, reluctantly. He brings his fingers to his mouth, covered in your juices, licking them clean. The sight has you clenching around nothing, only now noticing how empty you were.

“Do you really think someone else will satisfy you like I do?”

You’re quiet, head clouded and eyes seeing stars. You should be mad at yourself for letting yourself turn into putty so easily in Xavier’s hands. What you should have done was leave as soon as he started kissing you. But, there was no denying it anymore, you were addicted to him.

Whether it was good for you or not, the hold he had on you was impenetrable.

And maybe, he just felt too good to have.

A gentle kiss is placed on the inside of your thigh, you lean into his tenderness. You knew the answer to his question, but you weren’t ready to admit it just yet.

“Xavier,” your voice is needy, there’s a fervor swimming in his hazy eyes. “I want you.”

He stands, arm gripping your waist when you stumble from your weak legs. His hand comes up to cup your face, looking into your eyes as if he’s searching for something in them. “I thought you wanted nothing to do with me anymore.” he whispers, an underlying smugness in his words.

You thought so too.

But as his thumb comes up to your bottom lip, you find yourself parting your lips for him. Xavier pulls you closer. 

“Go ahead,” he purrs, “walk away right now. I won’t stop you.”

He says it like he knows you won’t.

And you don’t.

His lip quirks slightly as he lifts his chin. “That’s what I thought.”

Xavier’s kiss is hungry, clashing harshly against your teeth. His tongue in your throat, he lifts you onto the stool behind you. Your legs wrap around his hips instinctively, unable to help the soft moans that leave you.

One more time wouldn’t hurt, right?

[anixvl]

WHAT ONCE WAS || NI-KI

pairing: idol!niki x actress!reader

synopsis: Years after your long-term relationship break up, you catch a glimpse of your ex on the news. But, he’s an upcoming star in a korean boy band group. Preparing for their upcoming music video, you're selected as the female lead. Will seeing each other after so long hender your hard-earned founded careers?

genre: Second-chance troupe, SUGGESTIVEE AFFFF, AU famous, use of irl famous people & films, kinda slow burn?

warnings: angst, suggestive, altered roles in films

wc: 7.5K

The lights of the studio were blinding, but you smiled through it, the practiced grace of an actress trained to charm cameras. It became second-nature to you, after years of blood, sweat, and tears. Many, tears.

Your undeniable hard work.

Across from you, the interviewer leaned in, her voice light but sharp, the way all seasoned hosts wrapped their punches in cunning enthusiasm. It was the 6th interview in the last 2 weeks, and every last one implemented the same topic. It was exhausting.

“You’ve worked with so many big names recently,” she said, her pen poised over her notepad.

“But I have to ask—there’s been a lot of talk about you and Ni-ki of Enhypen. Any truth to the rumors?”

There it was.

The repetitive, infuriating, question you've dreaded.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t flinch. On the surface, the question was about your recent collaboration on the upcoming music video. Beneath it, though, was the unspoken truth you've spent years burying, desperately trying to forget.

To obliterate, completely.

Ni-ki wasn’t just a co-star or the idol dominating global charts. No, you both knew he was far from that.

You swallowed, pushing away all insistent memories you've forgotten you had. You laughed softly, the kind that said nice try without confirming anything.

“Ni-ki is an incredible talent,” you smiled, leaning back in your chair, “It was an honor to work with him and the boys.”

The interviewer smiled knowingly, “Some would say there’s more to the story. Any comment on the chemistry fans noticed between you two—both on and off-screen?”

you looked away, just for a heartbeat, as the memories rushed back.

Late-night walks in the quiet streets of the home-town you both grew up in, whispered dreams of making it big, and the final, shattering silence that left you both broken.

You smiled again, the professional mask slipping back into place.

“The chemistry,” you said, “is all part of the performance.”

You knew what it meant to be an actress, a global sensation, at that. You had dealt with hate, rumors, and scandals many times during your career. None of it was new to you, not that any of it was bigger than your fan base and public admiration towards you. You had billboards, luxury brand partnership, and magazines on your success and beauty. You're doing extraordinarily well. Romantic rumors between you and your co-stars wasn't new, fans love to group together actors with "chemistry." Not that it was bothersome, your publicity teams used this as advertisement to boost the views for your films, they even encouraged to subtly feed into your fans delusion. It was harmless.

4 years ago, you were nothing but a girl with passionate dreams. With huge dreams to be an actress, a star. If it wasn't for the profound heartbreak you went through back then, you wouldn't have had the courage to leave your small home-town without looking back once. As the years went by, you worked hard and gained recognition like wildfire. Not only were you talented but also undeniably beautiful, big roles were given to you insistently. You were incredibly grateful, to all your fans and support staff, so you worked evermore harder on your acting and events. It was all you felt you had after leaving your home-town, alone. You couldn't let them down, it was your motivation to be better. It was a testament of your hard work, that you could be someone in this world despite of your poor past. Or the betrayals.

A month ago, you were incredibly busy with your demanding schedule. After finally wrapping up Lovely Runner and only a few events left to attend, you had time to breathe. You barely had time to yourself, let alone to watch the news or care about the media. Not if it wasn't PR or about your work. That was, until you absentmindedly decided to turn on the channel news on a random Saturday night. Why would you do that? Out of all days, too. The only time you had to yourself, the only time you decide to indulge yourself with the media, you come face-to-face with the last person you ever thought you'd see again.

Your ex.

Only, he's not there as your ex but as an upcoming kpop idol.

Your heart drops at the sound of his name said by the reporter and his face up-close on the screen. Yes, its undoubtly him. You stop in your tracks, facing the screen of your echoing tv, in the living room of your penthouse. Suddenly, the cup of tea slips from your unresponsive hands and shatters onto the floor. Your assistant rushes out to you, her eyes widening in concern.

"y/n, are you okay? What happened?" She asks, pulling you away from the mess.

You stammer, "I'm...yeah, I'm fine. I-I don't know what...what happened. It must've slipped."

You manage to snap out of the trance, helping your assitant, Kate, clean up the mess. Your eyes frequently find the TV screen, attentively listening to the content. You feel as if a cold sweat has overcame you, you feel nauseous, the shock draining the color from your face.

Get a fucking grip, y/n. What difference does it make now that you know he's doing well? So what if he's a star? You're doing your own thing now, you wont ever cross paths with him. Let it go.

You take a final deep breath, turning off the TV and pushing back the memory of his face on the news.

You were sure you weren't going to see him again, after all, you're an actress. When will a busy actress like you ever meet with a busy idol?

The red carpet glistened under the camera flashes, a sea of faces cheering as you stepped out of the car, your gown flowing like liquid starlight. This was supposed to be your moment—a night to celebrate your tenth major acting award nomination. The big, luxurious, successful ten.

But then you heard it: a name called out by fans down the carpet, echoing like a forgotten melody. His name. Your heart stalled as you turned toward the commotion, and there he was, stepping onto the same carpet from a sleek black van, surrounded by his group members. The world knew him as the rising star of Enhypen, the global sensation boy band.

But to you, he was just Ni-ki—the boy who had once held your heart.

The crowd roared as the lights dimmed, the announcer’s voice booming through the grand stadium. The biggest night in entertainment had brought out the stars, and you were seated front and center, right where the cameras loved you most. Your stylist’s work was flawless—an elegant gown shimmering like stardust, paired with a smile that was as breathtaking and admirable as your reputation.

“And the award for Best International Collaboration goes to…”

The host's pause stretched endlessly, and you leaned back, feigning nonchalance for the cameras. But as soon as the name was announced, the room erupted in cheers.

“Enhypen, featuring Selena Grace!”

You clapped politely, your smile widening for the benefit of the cameras.

Of course, they’d win. Enhypen was unstoppable, and their song XO—an international smash—had cemented their status as global icons. Niki's face flashed on the massive screens as he and his bandmates stood, their tailored suits gleaming under the stage lights.

You kept your eyes onto the big displaying screens, your hands folded neatly in your lap as Jungwon signaled him to deliver the speech. He nods, stepping towards the mic.

“Thank you to the fans,” he began with a charming smile, his voice alluring and low.

“This wouldn’t have been possible without your love and support," He extends his hand out to signal at someone in the crowd, "And, of course, to Selena Grace, who brought magic to this project.”

The camera cut to Selena, seated just a few rows behind you, blowing him a kiss. Your smile faltered, just for a second. You quickly regain your composure, just in case the camera unexpectedly lands on you. You don't want to create unnecessary content for people to delude.

As the applause died down and the show moved on, you braced yourself for your category. Fame had taught you the art of composure, but tonight, you felt like you were unraveling. You wanted nothing than to go home and enjoy your peace.

The announcer’s voice rang through the stadium, cutting through the applause like a beacon.

“And the award for Best Actress in a Leading Role goes to… Y/n L/n!”

The room erupted into cheers and applause, the sound crashing over you like a wave. You felt the cameras zoom in, capturing every detail—the way you pressed your hands to your chest in mock surprise, the graceful way you rose to your feet, the dazzling smile that lit up you face. All of it was calculated, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t real.

As you made your way to the stage, your co-star Byeon Woo-seok in your latest drama Lovely Runner, helped the train of your gown that trailed behind you like liquid gold up the small case of stairs in courteously. But you knew it was also partly just a publicity stunt to feed into the fans who shipped you both together. The audience went louder at this, the host's smiling at the scene before them. It was a sweet gesture. He placed his hand on your lower back, protectively to ensure you could safely walk up the stage. Once safely on the stage, you exchange polite short talk and he rushes back to his seat. The cameras switch back to the crowd, It caught a flicker of movement in the audience.

Niki. He was clapping, his expression unreadable. For a fleeting moment, you locked eyes with him through the big screen. It was as if no time had passed, as if you were back in those quiet moments when it was just you and him in your small home-town.

Then the moment was gone, you quickly looked away and you were back in the spotlight.

The statuette was heavier than you expected as you accepted it, its shiny surface cool against your fingers. The host handed you the microphone, and you turned to face the audience—a sea of faces, cameras, and adoration.

“Wow,” you began, your voice steady and sweet despite the pounding of your heart.

“This… this is truly an honor. Acting has been my dream for as long as I can remember, and to be standing here once again tonight feels like a dream come true," you laugh, softly.

Polite laughter rippled through the room. You continued, your tone warm and heartfelt, the kind of sincerity that always won over the public. Like your last nine awards.

“There are so many people I need to thank—my director, my incredible cast," you smile as the camera cuts to your handsome co-star, "Woo-seok, thank you so much for being such a wonderful partner."

He smiles sheepishly, shaking his head.

"My team who works tirelessly behind the scenes, and, of course, my fans. You’ve made this journey possible, and I’m so grateful for your unwavering support," You continued.

The applause swelled again, and you smiled, letting it wash over you. But as you glanced out at the audience, your eyes land onto the big screen which found Niki once more. This time, his gaze was steady, his expression softer. For a split second, you faltered. Your attention shifts back to the mic.

“And to everyone out there chasing their dreams,” you added, your voice catching slightly, “never give up. You never know how far they’ll take you.”

The audience cheered as you stepped back from the microphone. Your heart was still racing as you made your way offstage, clutching the award like a lifeline.

When the award show was over, you lingered around, talking and socializing with other actors and idols. You spoke to some reporters and did quick interviews.

Kate stayed behind you, following you as you made your way through the crowd. Your smile lit up at the sight of Woo-seok waving you over. As you made your way, the view became clearer. Your eyes land on Woo-seok's company, Enhypen. Your smile faltered a bit. You stand next to Woo-seok as you exchange polite greetings with Enhypen.

“You were amazing up there," Jay said, flashing you a polite smile.

you return the smile, humbly denying.

"That was all you guys, congratulations on the new album," you beamed.

“That speech," Niki speaks up, "it reminded me of someone I used to know.”

The voice made your breath get stuck in your throat for a moment. Turning to face him, you found Niki standing, his hands tucked casually into the pockets of his tailored suit. It's the first time you've seen him since the incident.

your eyes flicker and before you knew it, your mind spoke for itself, “People change.”

“Some things don’t," His response is quick, as if he knew what you were going to say. His gaze lingered, heavy with unspoken words.

You both look into each other's eyes fiercely. Thankfully, Jake changes the topic, starting lively conversation between Woo-seok and the boys. Niki and I stay quiet for a bit, the tension unbearably suffocating. You shake it off, jumping back into conversation with them, completely disregarding NIki. Great, now they will start to suspect. Could this get any worse for you?

Soon after, their director comes over to you. You greet him as he showers you in humble compliments.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something," he said, looking back and forth between you and Enhypen.

you tilt your head, actively listening.

“Our team’s planning a music video for Enhypen's next single. A big one. And I have someone specific in mind for the lead," he explains.

You look over at the boys, nodding your head cheerfully, "Is that so? That's really great, I'll be rooting for you guys!"

"Actually, Y/n..." Sunoo trails off, exchanging looks with the other members.

“Let me guess,” you said, “Selena Grace?”

“No,” Niki stepped closer, his voice lowering, “You.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, you whip your head toward the director for clarification. You've faced countless directors, producers, and critics, but this? This was different. You've never been in a music video, let alone for a famous Korean boy band.

“Really? Me? You think that’s a good idea?” you asked, your voice laced with denial yet gratitude.

The director smiled, nodding.

"We think you're perfect for the role," he turned to the boys, "don't we?"

You turn to face them, still in disbelief. Kate starts typing in her phone, probably sending off the information to your manager.

Niki holds a unreadable expression, “I think it’s the best idea.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, confused at his weird behaviour. You would think that after what happened the last time you both saw each other, your interactions would be vastly different. Yet, It's alarmingly peaceful, with a hint of passive-aggressive.

He smiled faintly, the kind that used to make your heart race.

That following week, news on your collaboration spread like wildfire, it became the most spoken topic and the shooting hasn't even finished. Papparazzi's followed and increased, appearing at your meetings sites with Enhypen. It was a global anticipation, your biggest project of all.

On the first official day of shooting, the set buzzed with energy as Enhypen arrived. Niki's bandmates were larger-than-life in person, their charisma radiating like a collective force field.

And, oh, so handsome.

They stood in a group, laughing and joking as if they hadn’t just stepped off a whirlwind tour.

The sun blazed high over the set, casting golden light across the sprawling outdoor location. The production team buzzed like a hive, cameras and lighting rigs being adjusted, assistants darting between trailers, and the director shouting final instructions. Amid the chaos, you sat in the makeup chair, staring at your reflection.

The makeup artist added the finishing touches, but your nerves weren’t about your appearance. Today was the first day of filming Enhypen's music video—and the first time you'd be working with Niki as professionals since your lives diverged. You hated it, utterly despised him and the thought of being around him another second longer. But you knew it wasn't fair for the rest of the nice crew, after all, it was just this and nothing more. You wouldn’t even need to really interact with him, right? Just endure it a little longer...

“Y/n L/n!” Jay called out, his voice warm and playful. You smoothed the soft fabric of the ethereal dress the costume team had chosen for you as you stepped out. All eyes seemed to follow, the weight of your “dream girl” reputation trailing like a shadow. The staff helped you out of the trailer, staying careful with your dress. You waved, cheerfully, greeting them.

Jungwon gave you a polite bow, “Thank you for agreeing to work with us. The fans are already calling this the collaboration of the year.”

“No pressure, right?” you joked, earning a few chuckles.

Behind him, the remaining members hung back slightly, though their smiles were welcoming. It was clear they all shared an easy camaraderie, the kind that came from years of working, traveling, and growing together.

As you filled your bottle with water, you could feel Niki's gaze, though he hadn’t said a word.

“Don’t be shy,” Heeseung chimed in, clearly relishing the opportunity to engage, “We were just talking about our most embarrassing moments on stage. Do you have one?”

you turned, tilting your head slightly in thought, “Embarrassing moments? Hmm…”

“There was one time during a premiere when I tripped on my dress. Right in front of a live audience and the cameras," you shook your head, recalling the embarrassment at just the thought.

Sunghoon gasped theatrically, “The dream girl… tripped?”

“It happens,” you said with a shrug, laughing.

“But I recovered gracefully, if I do say so myself," you boasted, playfully.

“Of course you did,” Sunoo said, flashing a sweet smile.

“You’re Y/n L/n. You probably made it look like part of the act," Jake joked.

The room burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but feel a little at ease.

Niki finally spoke, his voice cutting through the lighthearted chatter, “You’ve always been good at making things look effortless.”

The tone of his compliment was subtle, but the room seemed to sense the shift. The laughter died down, and for a moment, the air between you both felt suffocating.

Jay, ever the mediator, clapped his hands together, “Well, since we’re all here, should we teach y/n some choreography from the song?”

you raised an eyebrow, laughing nervously, “Oh no, I’m not a dancer.”

Sunghoon smirked, “You’re an actress. You can pretend to be one.”

Before you could protest, Sunoo was pulling you closer to them, “It’s easy! Just the chorus—Niki, show her.”

Niki shifted reluctantly, but there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He positioned himself beside you, demonstrating a smooth trail with his arms followed by a quick footwork sequence.

“Like this,” he said, his voice quieter now.

you tried to mimic the movement, fumbling awkwardly. The group erupted into laughter, Jake doubling over onto Sunghoon dramatically.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you said, throwing your hands up in surrender, “Stick to acting for me.”

Niki chuckled softly, his smile genuine, “You weren’t that bad.”

you met his gaze, and for a moment, you felt your breath get stuck in your throat. You quickly looked away, suppressing your thoughts.

“I swear i’m not this bad at dancing,” you defended, playfully, “it just went a little too fast for me to catch on to.”

As the crew finalized the next setup, the director approached, clapping his hands, “Alright, everyone! Let’s get the group shot lined up. Y/n, you’ll be center stage with the guys circling you. We want this to feel like a dream sequence—intense, almost otherworldly.”

you moved to your positions, and you found yourself surrounded by the seven of them. Each carried a distinct presence: Sunghoons quiet confidence, Jake’s playful energy, Heeseungs brooding intensity, Sunoo’s charming warmth, Jungwons calm concentration, Jay’s cool collectiveness, and Niki… well, Niki was Niki: Reserved.

“Alright, everyone, eyes on y/n,” the director called, “This is about the connection. She’s the muse, the untouchable figure you’re drawn to. Feel the tension.”

As the music swelled and the cameras rolled, the guys slipped effortlessly into their roles. You executed your simple choreography gracefully, focusing. Their gazes were piercing, their movements fluid, creating an aura that felt both surreal and magnetic.

But it was Niki’s gaze that unsettled you the most. His eyes locked onto yours, carrying an intensity that blurred the line between performance and reality.

“Cut!” the director called, sounding thrilled, “That was perfect. Let’s reset for the close-ups.”

As the crew adjusted the lighting, Jay leaned in conspiratorially, “You’re a natural at this.”

“Ever thought about switching careers? We could use a eighth member,” Sunoo smiled.

“Only if you want your fans to riot,” you teased.

The group laughed, but Niki stayed quiet, his focus still on you. It made you uncomfortable, catching his gazes frequently. You couldn’t think straight, and it frustrated you.

“Alright, alright,” the director interrupted, “Let’s keep this energy going.”

As you moved back into position, you caught Niki watching you again. This time, his expression was softer, almost unreadable.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Always,” you replied, meeting his gaze head-on. You look away, giving him the cold shoulder.

After your small break, as you approached the director, he clapped his hands together.

“Perfect timing! Niki, y/n, let’s go over the first solo scene,” he instructed.

You falter for a moment.

You have a solo scene with Niki? Could the universe hate you even more?

you gathered around the monitor as he explained the setup. The concept was intimate: Niki, a mysterious figure, would catch glimpses of you in a dream-like world, your connection growing through fleeting encounters. The chemistry between you would carry the narrative.

“Chemistry,” you thought, biting back a wry smile. That wouldn’t be a problem. If anything, the challenge was hiding it.

The first shot involved you walking barefoot through a field, the breeze catching the hem of your dress, while Niki watched from a distance. Simple enough.

“Positions, everyone!” the assistant director called.

you took your mark, feeling the cool grass beneath your feet, and glanced at Niki. He stood at his mark, hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed on you. The look in his eyes sent a ripple through you—curiosity, recognition, and something deeper that he didn’t try to hide.

“Action!”

Your eyes flickered as you snapped back into reality. The world around you fell silent as you moved through the scene, every step slow and deliberate. Niki’s presence loomed at the edge of your awareness, his gaze a constant weight. You glanced back over your shoulder as directed, and your eyes met.

Time seemed to slow.

For a moment, it wasn’t the camera capturing you but the past pulling you back to a place you both tried to leave behind.

“Cut!” the director called, breaking the trance.

He clapped enthusiastically, “That was beautiful. Perfect connection. Let’s reset for the next shot.”

you exhaled, only then realizing you’ve been holding your breath. Niki approached as the crew adjusted the setup.

“You’re good at this,” he said quietly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

Yet it felt sarcastic to you. It irked you.

“Took a lot of hard work and many sacrifices,” you replied, keeping your tone neutral.

His eyes narrowed, his lips twitching into a faint smile, but his eyes searched yours as if trying to read what you weren’t saying.

The next scene involved you standing closer, your hands nearly touching but never quite meeting. The director called it a “moment of almost,” the kind of shot that fans would replay endlessly.

As you both stood there, your hands hovering inches apart, the tension between you both became palpable.

“Action!”

you turned toward him, your character’s longing meant to be subtle yet undeniable. But as your eyes met, the emotions spilling from him felt too real. For a second, you wondered if Niki was acting at all—or if he, like you, were still caught in the echoes of what you used to be.

Of what once was.

The final day of shooting had been grueling, but the wrap party was in full swing. The studio’s rooftop terrace glittered with string lights and a panoramic view of the city skyline. Cast, crew, and industry insiders mingled, laughing and toasting to the success of the project. You were tired of keeping a front for the reporters and photographers. Being close to Niki, feeling his touch on your skin, his gaze on yours—it was all too overwhelming. Moreover, it didn’t make anything better that fans and media shipped you both together after the music video was released. Countless of interviews included him, you felt as if all your hard work was underestimated because of Niki. As if your boost in popularity was mostly because of him. It irritated you.

You worked hard for this. You made it out for yourself. No thanks to him. All you wanted was to be as far as you could from him.

You leaned against the railing, a glass of champagne in hand, but your mind was elsewhere. The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of emotions. Working with Niki had stirred up everything you’ve buried—the longing, the heartbreak, the unresolved tension. And tonight, it felt like it was all teetering on the edge of spilling over. You were so fed up. The pretentious act, the subtle messages, the mixed signals. Everything.

“You’re quiet tonight.”

His voice came from behind you, gentle and steady. You didn’t have to turn to know it was Niki.

You exhaled slowly, irritated, “Just tired.”

He stepped closer, the warmth of his presence cutting through the cool night air.

“Tired, or avoiding me?”

you turn around to face him, “What are you talking about?”

His expression was calm, but his eyes spoke many messages. He shoves his hands in his pockets, sighing.

“You’ve been distant. Since that scene last week, you’ve barely looked at me, let alone talked to me. Why?” he urged, his expression holding a look of longing.

you roll your eyes, the frustration bubbling up, “I’m just doing my job. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to be doing?”

He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips, “Don’t do that. Don’t pretend this is just work. I know you felt it—every moment we’ve had together on set, it wasn’t just acting. And you’re running from it.”

your chest tightened, his words hitting too close to the truth than you like. You set your glass down on the railing, your hands trembling.

“What do you want me to say? That I feel something? That being around you again makes me question everything I’ve tried to move past?”

“Yes,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. Your eyebrows furrow.

“Because it’s the same for me. I tried to move on, y/n, but you… you’re everywhere. And now, working with you, it’s like every wall I built is crumbling.”

you stared at him, the weight of his confession crashing into you.

You scoffed, annoyed and in disbelief at his audacity. This isn’t how the story went in your book. No.

“You left, Niki! You chose this life, this path. You can’t just show yourself in front of me after not hearing from you for years and expect me to pretend like everything is fine,” you fumed, tears clouding your vision.

His jaw tightened, “I looked for you! I came back to our hometown, I…I searched for you everywhere. But it was too late. They told me you were gone. I didn’t know where to look for you, y/n...”

Your eyes flickered in shock. Your heart dropped. He looked for you? Why didn’t you know any of this? No one ever told you that he came back for you…but still, to act like this after leaving in the first place is uncalled for. What difference does it make, right? But why is your heart beating so fast? Why is your body longing for his touch?

He steps closer to you, “I was so stupid for leaving you alone in the first place, I know. I got caught up with my schedule and training that I couldn’t even sleep, let alone text. Training was intense and immersive at the company, we weren’t allowed to communicate. By the time they were more lenient with communicating, i left you so many messages and calls. Why didn’t you answer?”

You blink, slowly taking in the information, “I had changed my number. After being ghosted by my own boyfriend, seeing you be all successful on your own and feeling like you forgot about me, hurt me. It’s when I started my acting career.”

He shook his head, “I could never abandon you, it wasn’t on purpose, y/n. I thought about you every single second. You were my motivation. I thought once i was successful enough, i’d be able to find you quicker. That you’d come find me.”

“You just decided for both of us, and I was supposed to be okay with it? Do you know what it felt like to see you fade away without a word? I was worried sick for you! I didn’t know where to find you or reach you. I even worried that you were dead! Just like that, without even officially ending it, the relationship we had built was gone in an instant. How could you do this to me?” you bit your lip, holding back the urge to cry.

The silence that followed was deafening. His shoulders slumped slightly, the fight draining out of him, “I never meant for this to happen. I never meant to hurt you. But I see now that I hurt you more than anything else ever could. And I regret it so much.”

you crossed your arms, trying to keep a calm and collected composure despite the burning feeling in your throat from trying not to cry, “You did.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the sounds of the party fading into the background.

Then, softly, he said, “I don’t want to hurt you again, y/n. But I don’t know how to stop feeling this way.”

you shook your head, tears threatening to spill, “You don’t get to say that now, Niki. You don’t get to just… come back into my life and make me feel like this all over again. Not after years of loving you—waiting for you.”

He softly flinched, his expression softening. He reached for your hand, but you pulled away, stepping back.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, your voice breaking, “I can’t go through this again.”

You turned on your heel, heading towards the exit. You quickly get pulled back by Niki, whose grip is desperate onto your wrist.

“Don’t go,” he pleaded, “please.”

“Niki, let go of me—”

“I love you.”

Your eyes widen slightly at his abrupt words. Your body loosens, forgetting to resist. Your eyes meet, his touch on your skin tingles.

“What are you saying?” You managed to say, your eyes looking into his for truth.

“I love you, y/n. I never stopped loving you,” he confessed, looking down at you in yearning.

“Don’t do this,” You pleaded, shaking your head softly as tears prickle at the corner of your eyes.

You didn’t know how much you could take, and all of this was just too sudden. Like salt on the wound.

And then, Jay barges through the doors of the rooftop.

“Niki, they need you,” he said, looking back and forth between you both.

You quickly turn away, hiding your teary expression. Before he could say anything, You quickly make your way past Jay and out the doors. As you push your way through the crowd, you feel your heart breaking further and further you walk away from him.

The echoes of the rooftop confrontation lingered long after you left the party. You replayed Niki’s words in your head, over and over, until they became a loop of emotions you couldn’t escape.

For the next few days, you threw yourself into work, avoiding every call, text, and notification. Niki hadn’t reached out directly, but articles about the music video were everywhere, the internet buzzing with speculation about your "chemistry." Fans had pieced together theories and speculations about you both. It was alarming.

When your phone buzzed with a new text from your manager, you hesitated before reading it.

"Director wants you on set tomorrow. Enhypen is doing some last-minute pickups for the video, and they want you in the final scene. Non-negotiable."

You stared at the message, your stomach knotting. Facing Niki again felt impossible, but walking away now would mean letting your emotions derail your hard earned career—a line you weren’t willing to cross.

The final scene was simple: Niki and I standing together, framed by soft lighting, as the camera panned out to symbolize resolution. When you arrived, Niki was already there, surrounded by makeup team. He looked up as you entered, his expression a mix of hesitation and relief.

“Y/n,” he said, standing.

you nodded curtly, keeping your distance, “Let’s just get this over with.”

The director wasted no time, positioning you both side by side under the glow of a massive artificial sunset. The scene required you to face each other, your hands almost touching as if the unspoken tension between you had finally resolved.

“Alright, action!”

you moved into position, your eyes meeting under the soft light. Your breath caught as Niki’s hand hovered close to yours, the warmth of his presence seeping through the small space between you. The scene was supposed to be quiet, but as the camera rolled, Niki broke the silence. His voice was barely audible, meant only for you.

“I meant what I said the other night,” he whispered, his eyes searching yours.

You tensed, your carefully maintained composure cracking.

“Niki…”

“No, listen,” he continued, his voice steady but full of emotion.

“I’ve spent every day since I left regretting it. I thought I was doing what was best for us, but I was a coward. I was afraid of being no one, so I worked tirelessly to debut. I wanted to be someone for you. To get us both out of that small town. But i was too careless and forgot what all of this was for. Who all of this was for… you were the only thing keeping me grounded,” he said.

Tears welled in your eyes, but you couldn’t respond. The director called, “Cut!” but neither of you moved. Niki’s hand finally closed the gap, his fingers brushing yours.

“Please, y/n. Just tell me if there’s still a chance. I’ll fight for it—I’ll fight for us—if you want me to,” he begged, squeezing your hand.

Your throat tightened as his words sank in, “Do you think it’s that easy? That we can just pick up where we left off?”

“No,” he admitted, his voice raw, “But I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

The crew watched you both curiously as you stood there, the tension palpable even off-camera. Finally, you stepped back, breaking the moment.

“I need time,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Niki nodded, though the pain in his eyes was evident, “I’ll wait.”

Back in your apartment that night, you sat alone in the dim light of your living room, replaying every word he’d said. Part of you wanted to believe him, to take the leap and trust that you both could find your way back to each other. But another part of you was terrified. Of being hurt again.

Weeks after that, you continued to replay those moments with Niki. Although shooting was wrapped up and the music video was out, you still felt stuck. You hadn’t reached out to him, you hesitated every time, afraid of what could happen if you decide to let him back in. But you knew, deep down, you were running away from what you truly felt.

Love.

You ardently and most irrevocably, loved Niki.

You stared at his name on your phone for the millionth time this month. Your thumb hovering over the call button before you sighed and put the phone down. You just didn’t have the courage to do it. Just as you were about to head to the kitchen for coffee, there was a knock at the door. You froze, your heart racing.

Yes, you just knew.

when you opened the door, there he was. Niki, standing in the hallway, looking like he hadn’t slept. His hair was a mess, his outfit still impeccable, but his eyes—those eyes that always seemed to see through you—were unwavering.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice weaker than you intended.

“I couldn’t leave things like that,” he said, his voice low but steady. “Please, I just needed to see you.”

You hesitated, every part of you screaming to slam the door and protect what was left of your fragile heart. But something in his expression stopped you.

“Five minutes,” you said, stepping aside.

He walked in, his movements careful, as though afraid of pushing you further away. You stayed near the door, arms crossed, your defenses firmly in place.

“I know I hurt you,” he began, his hands clenching at his sides. “And I’ve been trying to figure out the right way to say this, but there isn’t one. I’ve been missing you, missing you like crazy.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity.

“You don’t know what it was like for me, Niki. Watching you rise, seeing your face everywhere while I was trying to forget—do you have any idea how that felt?”

“I do,” he said softly, “Because I was watching you too. Every movie, every headline—you were everywhere, y/n. And every time, I thought, ‘She’s better off without me.’ But now…”

He paused, his voice breaking slightly, “Now I know I was wrong. I don’t want to just be a memory in your life. I want to be part of it again.”

The vulnerability in his voice shattered something in you.

He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours,“let me prove it to you. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. Just… don’t shut me out, y/n. Not again. I don’t want to lose you when i just got you back.”

“I can’t promise anything,” you said finally.

He holds you by your arms, looking down at you tenderly.

He nodded, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. “That’s enough.”

You both stare at eachother in silence, the tension growing heavier and heavier. Your eyes glance down at his lips and then up at his eyes. And before you both knew it, you were drawing closer and closer to each other.

He kisses you, softly and tenderly. For a second, you’re stunned but quickly close your eyes in relief as you kiss him back. He lets out a soft, relieved, sigh as he moves his hands from your arms to cup your face. He deepened the kiss, savoring every taste of you. He starts to push forward, causing you to move backward until your back hits the wall. The kiss is yearnful, desperate, and so messy. Feelings you didn’t know you had emerged from you. Finally, you both pull away to catch your breath.

“I missed this,” he exhaled, both of your faces just mere inches away.

Both your foreheads rested against each other. You closed your eyes, catching your breath.

“Me too…” your breath hitched as his fingers found their way under your shirt.

He captures your lips once again, slowly yet hungrily. He picks you up, you wrap your legs around his torso and your arms around his neck. He leads you blindly to the bedroom, laying you on top of the bed. He positions himself between your legs as he towers over you, using his arms to support his weight. He doesn’t break the kiss as his hands trail all over your body. Feeling every inch of you, remembering, noting every feature of your trembling body. He breaks the kiss to leave a trail of wet kisses on your neck, his free hand sliding under your shirt. He feels your bare skin under his touch, he grips onto your waist. You let out a shaky exhale.

“Niki…”

"Y/n,” he murmured, his tone a mix of desperation and restraint, “I can’t do this halfway with you. If I continue kissing you—touching you like this—I won’t be able to stop.”

You swallow, hard. After a moment of hesitation, you nod. He captures your lips once again, this time slowly, meaningfully, and passionately. As if he was promising so many things in one kiss. He drags his arm down your legs, slowly pulling down your shorts alongside.

His touch became more insistent as he worshipped you with a fervor that left you breathless. Whispering and groaning sweet names and phrases to you like an alluring consolation. Time seemed to blur as you both gave yourselves over to each other, the years of longing and heartbreak dissolving in the heat of the moment.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself feel—completely, unapologetically, and without restraint. Niki made you forget everything but him, his touch grounding you while his kisses sent you soaring. And as the night stretched on, the walls you'd so carefully built around your heart began to crumble, leaving nothing but the raw, undeniable truth of what you've both been fighting all along: you were meant to find your way back to each other.

By the time the music awards came, your relationship with Niki had soared. Private, but not secret. For the better of your careers, for now at least.

The thunderous applause echoed through the arena as Enhypen's name lit up the massive screen behind the stage. They had just won the biggest award of the night—Song of the Year. Fans screamed, the cameras panned across the cheering crowd, and the members of Enhypen rose to their feet, hugging each other before heading up to the stage.

You sat in the audience, clapping politely, doing your best to remain composed despite the swell of pride bubbling in your chest. You avoided the cameras, knowing full well they’d zoom in on you if you looked too emotional. Niki caught your eye as he walked by, his smile quick and fleeting, but it was enough to make your heart stutter.

The group gathered on stage, their presence commanding as the arena quieted for their speech. Jungwon took the mic first, thanking their team, their fans, and their families. The other members chimed in, their voices laced with gratitude and joy.

Then the mic was passed to Niki.

“Wow,” he started, his deep voice carrying over the crowd. “This is… unbelievable. I don’t think there’s a word big enough to describe what this moment feels like.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about this moment,” he continued, his voice steady but laced with something deeper—something vulnerable.

“When we started, we never imagined we’d make it this far. There were so many times we doubted ourselves, so many nights we wondered if we were good enough. But we had each other, and we had you—our fans—to remind us to keep going.”

The crowd roared again, but Niki wasn’t done. His hand tightened on the mic, and his eyes scanned the audience, stopping for a beat when they landed on you. Your breath hitched.

“And there’s one more person I need to thank,” he said, his tone softening.

“Someone who believed in me even before I believed in myself. Someone who’s been an inspiration, a muse, a best friend, and…” He hesitated, a small, almost nervous smile tugging at his lips, “The love of my life.”

Gasps and cheers rippled through the crowd. The cameras swiveled immediately to you, who froze in your seat, your cheeks flushing under the bright lights. Your eyes widen a bit. The crowd cheered lowly at the sight of your beautiful appearance.

Niki's voice grew steadier, more certain, “Y/n, I know this might be the last thing you want right now, but I can’t go up here and pretend you’re not the reason I’ve made it this far. You’ve challenged me, supported me, and even when things were hard, you never stopped being my light.”

“I’ve spent so long trying to prove that I’m worthy of standing next to you. And now, I’m standing here tonight, on this stage, with this award, and I want the world to know that it’s because of you. Thank you, Y/n.”

Tears pricked your eyes as the entire arena seemed to dissolve into chaos. Fans screamed, the cameras fixated on you, and Enhypen's members exchanged wide-eyed looks with one another.

Your gaze locked with Niki's, and despite the noise, the flashing lights, and the million eyes on you both, it felt like you were the only two people in the room.

Niki stepped back from the mic as the crowd continued to roar, his lips curling into a soft smile meant only for you.

You flashed a pretty smile, a chuckle following after. Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was how thoughtful this was, or simply you just loved him so much that nothing else mattered.

The night ended with fans buzzing, headlines exploding, and Enhypen securing their place as not just award winners but as the center of one of the most iconic love declarations in recent history.

[dipperscavern]

as you write and create wonders from thin air, i bring forward to you a humble request from the town folk: jon snow marrying/wedding, drabble or such 🙏 my life is yours 🙂‍↕️

thin air?? never!! i could never do it without my lovely anons 💗💗

jon snow x reader (gn i believe… idk reader has hair long enough to braid!)

you’re being dramatic. no, really, you are — but you’ll allow yourself this one moment, it is your wedding day, after all.

jon is the only one who knows how to braid your hair the way you like. both sansa and arya have tried their very best to replicate it, but one way or another it never turns out quite how you need it to be.

the easy fix of simply asking for jon's help is thwarted by aryas insistence of a braavosi wedding tradition, one which requires you and jon to not see each other until the actual ceremony. according to her, doing so supposedly brings bad luck. one shared look between you and jon says neither of you quite believe it, but you've humored the princess nonetheless. up until now, that is.

the door shuts with a click. jon, expecting sam or perhaps one of his sisters, is thoroughly surprised when greeted by the sight of you. "I, uh, thought we.."

"Are you not happy to see me, Jon Snow?"

jon cant help but smile while getting his first proper look of you all day, and the one you bite back reaffirms that he's in no real danger. "I need your help."

"With what?"

you look away momentarily - the way you do when you're nervous to ask for something. he finds the action terribly endearing. "My hair. Could you braid it?”

aye, he thinks. he could also kiss you silly and mess up the small bit of makeup sansa has dusted over your features. he could make you both late to your own wedding.

instead, his pupils dilate ever so slightly, face softening along with them. “Turn around.”

you flash a smile before heeding his request. it hits him that he’ll get to see that very smile for the rest of his waking days, if the gods are good.

his hands are gentle as they work your hair, delicately intertwining the strands in a dance he’s done countless times before. the feeling of his skin occasionally brushing against yours sends your lashes fluttering shut, goosebumps breaking out across your shoulders.

the silence of this moment is comforting — a momentary chance to rest, your day having been a whirlwind so far. everyone has decidedly thrown themselves into this; a bright, shining, good thing happening amidst all the bad that has scorched not just the north, but the entirety of westeros for the last coming years.

sansa has spent the last days sewing you and jon’s cloaks, and arya spent the morning making you a hair mask that has, undoubtedly, made it softer than ever. when asked she only shakes her head, letting you know she intends to keep the recipe closely guarded. and he’d never admit to it, but you know theon is responsible for the fresh sheets, new candles, and the pastries being made by the cooks to warm everyone up once back inside from the ceremony.

jon sliding the hair band you brought off your wrist brings you back to the present moment, eyes reopening & landing in the door in front of you. “Done.”

hands on your waist turn you to meet their owner, and before you can utter thanks, you hear footsteps making their way to the door directly behind jon. they’re light, airy — almost nonexistent. but a split second after you notice, jon’s head turns to confirm what his ears tell him.

when he looks back at you, childlike fear of being caught dances in his pupils. you can’t help the breathy laugh that escapes you as you turn to quickly (and quietly) exit out the door you came in from.

he’s quick to help usher you out in lieu of his sisters approaching footsteps. “You’re my savior.” you tell him.

he doesn’t shut the door without pressing a small kiss to your lips first. “I bask in the glory.”

[dicksoutforakutagawa]

bsd characters at metal shows with you

author's note: i go to metal shows a lot. i saw iron maiden live. metal shows are actually so fucking fun. but bring earplugs because the music is SO loud

other note: i have never seen anybody be flirted with or hit on at my local metal shows. apparently my local metal scene is full of very respectful people. i've been in mosh pits with a bunch of drunk 6'0+ men and felt perfectly safe and i think metal shows are beautiful for that

features nikolai, chuuya, atsushi, akutagawa, and dazai :3

nikolai

he is crowdkilling.

his six foot tall ass is in the mosh pit flailing like he's been electrocuted

nikolai is that one cunt in the pit who gets you with a fist to the face but then helps you stand up again. and his smile is too pretty for you to stay mad at, even though you can already feel the bruise forming

he is the guy who will drag you to the very front right up at the stage and headbang to hell and back

look at his long beautiful hair. you cannot tell me that he would not utilise this when headbanging

does not wear earplugs. he is raw dogging the hearing damage

stays for the whole set and very loudly cheers on the local bands as well as whatever big one has come touring

wears a band shirt and gets really sweaty. you're pretty sure he gave someone a concussion but, between the strobe lights and the way he's flailing, it was kind of hard to tell

will point out his favourite bands to you and tell you weird trivia you didn't previously know

he WILL try to make you get in the mosh pit with him. i'm sorry. it's unavoidable. he will accept a no but he will go mosh without you for a few minutes

if you mosh with him he will be absolutely fucking delighted. will probably kiss you (with tongue) in front of everyone because he is just Like That

headbangs at the front of the stage with you. when you both get dizzy, he grabs the railing and wraps his other arm around your waist. you're suddenly very thankful for the bad lighting because you can feel your entire face going red

he will walk you home but he will also invite himself inside because he is drunk. falls asleep on your bed before he can even take his shoes off. he makes up for it by making breakfast the next morning

akutagawa

reid said that you'd see him in the pit and think 'i could knock him over easily' and when you slam into him he doesn't move at all and i think this is so true

he stands on the edge of the mosh pit. he may only be like 5'8 but somehow nobody knocks him over

does not wear a band shirt. he rocks up in his lame gothic attire and is the prettiest boy there

he does not headbang much because it gives him headaches. he just stands there giving the band members a death glare

is actually REALLY enjoying the music

he does wear earplugs. he values his hearing

will buy you drinks but will bitch and moan about it. he is careful not to get drunk though because he sees those large men in the mosh pit beating each other up and he does NOT trust that

stays for the whole show. he paid for those tickets and he's not leaving

actually has a really good time but will never admit to being as much of a metalhead as he actually is

his favourite part is standing there next to you but he is very very shy. he might hold your hand if he's feeling brave enough but may also just resort to standing shoulder to shoulder

will not mosh with you if you ask him to but he will stand there to grab you in case you get knocked over

he spends about 50% of his time actually watching the musicians. the other 50% is spent looking at you and admiring you. he is secretly swooning over the fact that you enjoy metal as much as he does

will drive or walk you home. walks you right up to your door. he very shyly goes to kiss you goodbye but then gets nervous and kisses your forehead instead. when you grab him and kiss him properly his knees go weak and he nearly falls over

he is immediately trying to find more metal shows to go to once he gets home

atsushi

has never been to a metal show before

'no i won't need earplugs', he insists. the band starts playing. he immediately asks you to give him the earplugs

metal is not really his thing but he discovers that he enjoys headbanging and the general atmosphere

does not own a band shirt to wear to the show. he purchases one once he decides which band is his favourite

he stands at the back of the crowd near the bar because the music is too loud and he is scared of the mosh pit

(after a few drinks he gets brave enough to enter the pit and he discovers that his ultimate skill is knocking people over in the pit. he has a great time. he feels a little bad once he sobers up though)

stays for the whole show. cheers on all the bands but very quietly because he is slightly intimidated by the aggression

he has fun. he asks you after the show why they kept blaspheming christianity and you realise that you did not explain to him the histories of metal music

if you mosh with him he'll get very excited but he will also get nervous because he is vaguely aware of how much he's wrecking everyone's shit

he does buy you drinks. he does not have the funds for it but he will try to pay for drinks for the entire night. do not let him do this. the agency's pay is not good enough for him to afford this

spends the first band's entire set working up the courage to hold your hand. his hand is SO fucking sweaty and it is shaking a little bit because he's so nervous and excited to be here with you

if you buy him a band shirt he will get excited enough to kiss you. in front of the merch table. and also in front of everyone in line. his face goes BRIGHT red when he realises what he's done and it goes even redder when all the metalheads start clapping and cheering instead of making fun of him

he walks you home. he does not have a driver's license but he walks you home. he'll carry you bridal style if your feet hurt. he doesn't even realise how sweet he's being. he's just too worried about your sore feet

he keeps going with you but only to cheap local shows because his pay is shit

dazai

does not wear earplugs because he is stupid

he does not go in the mosh pit. he went to a show with chuuya when they were 16/17 and he got immediately knocked over and winded and has not been in the pit since

will buy you one round of drinks but you have to buy the next because unfortunately the agency does not pay him that well

he doesn't own any band shirts that still fit him. he wears his usual bandages and they smell very sweaty and terrible by the end of the show

he'll stay for the bands he likes. if you want him to stay for the whole show then he will, but usually he taps out after he's seen all his favourite bands

he stands at the back near the bar. he still vividly remembers entering the mosh pit as a skinny teenager and getting knocked into next tuesday and, given that he hates pain, he is not going anywhere near the mosh pit

he does not headbang. he just kind of bops his head to the beat

follows you like a puppy dog. as much as he wants to pretend to be cool and aloof, he cannot stop himself from trailing after you the entire show. even if you go near the mosh pit

will spend at least an hour psyching himself up to hold your hand. his hands are gross and sweaty when he eventually does it. he's too proud of himself to care

after he loosens up, he stands with an arm around your waist while he listens to the music. he decides that actually, metal music isn't so bad, especially when he's here with you

he walks you home. he has to consciously stop himself from giggling and kicking his feet when you kiss him goodbye

he will continue to go to shows with you but only cheap local ones

chuuya

chuuya gets right into it. he headbangs and sings along to the lyrics he knows. he can do a surprisingly good fry scream

he owns several band shirts. he forced dazai to attend multiple local metal shows in their youth and bought a shirt from every show. he wears his favourite band's shirt to the show and will buy you a shirt as well as himself

he buys you drinks. gets pleasantly drunk but not absolutely hammered

he enters the mosh pit and uses his gravity manipulation to weigh himself down so that his 5'3 ass doesn't get mashed into the ground

definitely wears earplugs. will also force you to wear earplugs. you cannot listen to metal if you go deaf

he also stays for the entire show and he cheers on all the bands

chuuya likes to stand at the very front up at the stage but will stand wherever you want to be

he proudly holds your hand

if you come up to stand at the railings with him, or if you mosh with him, he genuinely swoons and has to take a moment to stop himself from asking for your ring size

he makes sure not to send you flying in the mosh pit. he's considerate like that

he buys you as many drinks as you want. he will also buy you a band shirt. he'll buy you a band shirt from all the bands that performed if you ask him to

walks you home. kisses the back of your hand goodbye like a gentleman. is squealing to himself the whole way home because he's SO excited that you came to a show with him and the blush on your face when he kissed your hand was SO cute

is overjoyed when you want to continue going to shows with him. gets very excited and starts trying to take you to all the shows for his favourite local bands

[beholdthebangs]

Perseverance

Sebastian x F!Reader

~ 18+ ~

Synopsis: Smut - You spend far too much time thinking about Sebastian only for him to keep you at arms length for months. Conversations always turn to arguments but one night, arguments turn into something entirely new.

Word count: 8.1k

Warnings: dirty talk, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, semi-rough sex, praise, lowkey brat!reader, jealousy, arguing, smoking, drinking

A/n: I don’t have a good summary for this, I just wanted to write about Sebastian so I did ☺️

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Waking up with the rise of the sun every day is certainly not a lifestyle everyone can get behind, but it’s the one you chose the day you left your corporate work life behind to take over your late grandfather’s farm. The days are often long, but you love the occasional short ones where your list of tasks is short enough to crawl into bed by sunset, body aching nonetheless, hoping that maybe the extra time spent resting will heal you this time. Because of your somewhat unique schedule, you frequently run into the same residents of Pelican Town. Alex often crosses paths with you on his morning run. Sometimes his grandmother, Evelyn, is in the town’s centre watering the flowerbeds as you hurry to Pierre’s to pick up seeds. Shane is often on his way to work and you greet him cheerfully in exchange for a tired grunt.

In turn, there are many people you hardly get the chance to see. You can never seem to track down Marnie for one reason or another. Sam is often so wrapped up in practicing his skateboarding tricks or rehearsals for his band that it’s difficult to get a sentence out of him. Gus is a rare sight, almost always locked away in his saloon which you sometimes pass longingly on busy days, wishing you could afford to slow things down for a moment but never having the luxury.

There’s also the night owl of the town: Sebastian. Tucked away in the mountains, typing away at the computer in the basement room he so frequently occupies, and you’d wondered if he ever left the confines of it. A short while into your time in Pelican Town, you finally get your answer.

The night had slipped away from you as you descended into the mines. You eventually throw in the towel and hurry out into the cool summer night breeze as the clock hits midnight, hoping to get just enough sleep to regain your energy tomorrow. As you hustle across the wooden bridge near the mine entrance, you notice a small glow from across the lake. Curiosity getting the better of you, you approach it slowly. Only a few feet away now, a shuffle is heard and a figure moves out from behind the thick trunk of a pine tree, a small yelp pulling from your throat. It twitches, moving quickly to look at you.

“Y/n?” it says. You recognize the raspy voice as Sebastian’s, the moon’s light finally helping you fill in the dark image before you.

“Sebastian, what are you doing out here?”

He holds up his cigarette between his two fingers before bringing it back to his lips, the cherry at the end lighting up orange and red, resembling that subtle glow that had pulled you in.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

“Yep,” he replies, taking his eyes off you and looking back out over the lake that sits before him.

“Do you get lectured a lot?” you wonder. He looks back, tilting his head in confusion. “You seem a little defensive.”

Sebastian shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. My mom isn’t particularly happy about it but she’s always telling me to get out of my room.” He gestures vaguely to the nature surrounding him. You let out a small laugh.

“I’ll let you get back to it.” He doesn’t answer, just nodding as he turns himself back to the lake, leaning against the trunk of the tree behind him. With that, you head back home, barely making it into bed before 2 am and getting your bare-minimum 4 hours of sleep for the night.

Since then, you’ve felt an urge to go back to the mines in the afternoons. While you’re nearing the bottom levels, you know that your motivation doesn’t lie with the desire of reaching whatever awaits you underground. Once the time passes 7 pm, you want to quit and head back home. You want to leave the mines and look across the lake for that glowing cherry of Sebastian’s cigarette. To have a conversation so barebones that it’s a stretch to consider it a conversation. For some reason, you spend far too much time going over all the things you could say to him only to have a surface-level chat each time you manage to catch him before scurrying off as soon as the silence is too thick to break through.

This goes on for months, until the end of winter. It’s the last time you’ll be able to go to the mines for a while as you anticipate a busy spring. Your finances are in a good position with the gems you’d found in the mines over the cold season, and you have the gold to invest in a few hundred seeds this time around. The time and energy it’ll take to tend to your crops means you’ll likely only be able to go to the mines on rainy days, in which you’d noticed Sebastian wouldn’t be hanging around at night like he usually was.

When you call it quits in the mines tonight, it’s just past 11 pm. You can’t help but smile seeing the smoke blowing over the lake as you leave the cave, restraining yourself just enough to not skip over. “Hey,” you say, drawing his attention and he glances over his shoulder.

“Hey,” he replies quickly.

You stand to his side, just out of sight as he’s turned away from you. With a hesitant look over his shoulder once again, you make eye contact. He shuffles awkwardly, turning his body toward you as if confused to why you’re still standing there, staring at him.

“Do you mind if I have some of that?” you ask, gesturing toward his cigarette when he doesn’t move.

“You want to slut off it?” he asks. Your eyes widen, lips pursed at his words. He rushes out, “It’s a saying—“ and clears his throat as if to cut himself off. “Sorry. Here.”

Sebastian holds out his hand, cigarette between his index and middle finger for you to grab. You take it carefully, praying to Yoba that you don’t look as dumb as you feel fumbling with it. You grip it between your thumb and index finger, holding it up to your mouth and taking a quick puff, eyes flickering from the tip up to his eyes. He stares at you instead of breaking any eye contact like he usually does, studying you. While the taste of overwhelmingly bitter smoke is obvious, the paper of the cigarette holds the slightest bit of mint and you wonder if this is what Sebastian’s mouth would taste like. You hold the smoke in for a moment then breathe it out, his face fuzzy for a moment as the smoke spreads between you before being carried away with the wind. It takes everything in you not to choke with the feeling in your lungs, but you manage. Sebastian’s eyes still on you, you hand the stick back.

“How was your Feast of the Winter Star?” you ask as he brings it back to his mouth. You can’t help but wonder, watching him, if he’s thinking about your lips lingering there just moments ago just as you had.

“Good.” He hesitates. “How was yours?”

“Good! Who was your secret gift giver?”

“Clint. He gave me obsidian. You?”

“Cool,” you nod, making a mental note at the lack of disdain in his voice and jumping to the conclusion that it was a good gift for him. “Alex was mine. He got me a gold bar.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, looking back over at the lake and shutting a part of himself off from you once again. “You don’t have enough of those yet? You’re in the mines every day.”

“Every bit helps,” you shrug.

“Where’d he get the money for that?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“You must be close if he’s shelling out that much money on a gift for you.”

“Close is an overstatement.” He doesn’t seem to believe you, only taking a long drag in response. “You seem to really care about this,” you comment.

He scoffs. “Yep, it’s all I care about.”

“It’s just strange how you can hardly keep a conversation going, and now you’re asking me all these questions about Alex.”

“Maybe I don’t have an interest in holding up conversations,” he retorts. The way he says it cuts you deeper than you’d like to admit. You had subconsciously changed your routine to run into him, mind constantly running over your previous chats and future ones. To hear that he can’t relate to that at all, and in fact may even dread seeing you stroll over in the dark of the night, hurts.

“I thought you may take some enjoyment from it,” you mutter, looking to your shoes.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. He takes one last hit from his cigarette, then throws it in the patch of dirt at his feet, smothering it with his foot. “I’ll stop with the mixed signals, then. Goodnight, Y/n.” With that, he retreats back to his house, the remnants of smoke drifting off behind him as he exhales, leaving you with the smell of it as you watch him walk away in your peripheral.

Three weeks have gone by since that last conversation. If you’d thought Sebastian occupied too many of your thoughts before, it had gotten increasingly bad since. While you hadn’t seen him after that night, you would think of him when you saw Alex, Clint, or even gold. In fact, there wasn’t much that didn’t draw your attention to the darkened demeanor of the mysterious boy in the mountains. The switch in him hadn’t left you, and it continued to confuse and wound you no matter how long you thought about it.

The day of the flower dance finally arrives and as you shower, you think about what you might say to Sebastian. While it’s not his scene, you can be almost sure that he’ll be present regardless—if Abigail is forced to go, she’ll force Sebastian along with her. Part of you wonders if he would accept a request to dance with you, and you can’t help but laugh as you picture it. A man who couldn’t care less about talking to you certainly wouldn’t want to stare at you in a frilly dress and claim you as his partner, even if only for a minute.

After drying your hair and pulling on the formal dress all the girls wear for the occasion, you head south of your farm, through the shortcut into the woods. As you approach, classical music grows louder and you finally cross the bridge over to Pierre’s stand.

You begin greeting your neighbors, making rounds. You head the opposite direction of Sebastian, making eye contact over the back of Sam’s shoulder who seems to be going on about something that Sebastian is uninterested in. You take your time chatting with the others until, inevitably, you complete the loop with Sam, Abigail, and Sebastian.

“Hey guys!��� you muster up your most energetic voice, waving as you approach their circle.

“Y/n! You look so good!” Abigail exclaims.

“You do too!”

Sam clears his throat obnoxiously, the others’ eyes drawn to him. “You look great too, Sam,” you add, throwing an over-exaggerated wink his way.

“At least someone noticed,” he grins.

You finally turn your attention to Sebastian. “How are you?” you offer, in large part because you miss the frivolous pleasantries you used to exchange, but also because Sam and Abigail would be rather suspicious if you said nothing in his direction.

“Good,” he responds rather roughly.

You look at him for a few seconds as he refuses to meet your gaze. You take full opportunity to scan over him in his blue suit. Though he wears an outfit identical to Sam’s, his tall stature and dark tattoos peaking from his neckline and sleeves give it a much different vibe. You force yourself away, taking a quick breath in and turning to the other two. “Well, I should get going. Enjoy the dance!” Abigail and Sam mutter their goodbyes as they glance between you and their friend, and you don’t bother looking back at Sebastian as you walk away.

You’d originally planned to sit this dance out like you had last year, but the way Sebastian refused to acknowledge you has caused something within you to break. You had toiled over your last conversation for cumulative hours each day and for him to not even bother asking you how you are? Even just for appearances’ sake?

Your gaze is set on Alex and your feet are carrying you toward him before you can register the decision. He smiles at you as you get closer, pulling his attention from Haley who circles the field as if stretching her body for the dance. “Hey Y/n, looking good.”

“Hey Alex,” you sigh as you stop a foot in front of him. “Will you dance with me?”

His eyes widen, flickering between you and Haley. She doesn’t seem to notice what’s going on, and Alex chews on his bottom lip as he debates his options. After a few seconds, he gives in. “Yeah, sure. That would be fun, thanks Y/n.”

You smile, nodding as if to confirm to yourself his answer before leaving to give Lewis the go-ahead.

The young men line up in the middle of the field, their counterparts facing them a few feet apart as music begins to play. It’s your second flower dance, but your first time participating. Being so new to the valley last year made it difficult to find a partner and you’d decided to sit it out and watch in hopes you could participate in the future. Now, you’re racking your brain to recall the steps.

Though you fall slightly out of sync with the girls who have done this dance for years, you manage to keep up, letting out quiet giggles with Alex whose expression is filled with amusement as he watches you. Sam stands next to him, Sebastian at the end, and you can’t help but steal a couple glances during the course of the song. He looks substantially less happy than the two boys closer to you, and you can’t help but wonder if the reason is more complex than his distaste for the festival.

As the music ends, Alex closes the gap and holds your arm for a moment. “You did great!”

“Thanks for being my partner,” you respond, smiling graciously.

“Any time.” He lowers his voice, leaning closer to your ear. “Haley’s great, but she takes this stuff really seriously. It was nice to just have some fun with it.”

The crowd disperses shortly after with the main event concluding. Sebastian, with Abigail and Sam on his heels, leads the charge as he practically storms away from the open field and back toward the town. You spend a few minutes mingling before heading back to your farm for the night.

Two days later, you find yourself nearing the end of a long week and in desperate need of food and alcohol. You sit at the bartop of the saloon, having finished a plate of crab cakes and your second beer of the night when Sam enters. He greets you as he passes, heading toward the pool table in the other room.

Your eyes are trained on his back, weighing your options for the rest of the night. You could either head back home and toss and turn in bed, or you could take this opportunity to bond and have some fun. You pause for just a moment before rising to your feet, hurrying after Sam. He’s already setting up a game when you enter. “When does your partner arrive?” you ask.

“Seb?” Sam checks his watch. “Hopefully within the next half hour. He’s not the most punctual.”

“Want to play a round?” you ask, gesturing to the table.

He seems taken aback, but quickly agrees. “That sounds fun. You want to break?” Sam offers up a cue and you take it, crossing the distance to the other side of the table. It had been a while since you’d played, so you had no strategy, but having seen Sam play against Sebastian for the past year, it seemed like it could be a fair fight.

You lean over, positioning the pool cue over your fingers and hit the cue ball hard. As it strikes the others, they fly across the table. You pocket a couple solids in the motion and you grin as you watch them roll in, happy to have had some luck. Sam groans as he leans against the wall behind him, cue vertical in his hands, resting on the floor between his feet.

You manage to sink another ball before missing the pocket, and Sam takes over. He pockets one as you’d accidentally left the perfect setup, but he fails to get anything more. As you work to line up your next shot, you hear him yell out a greeting. Glancing up, Sebastian has just entered. He quirks his head up curtly at Sam in response but his movements stutter as his eyes scan over to you. Before you can muster up any words, he looks away and takes a spot on the couch, eyes trained on his phone screen.

“Y/n and I are just playing a quick round,” Sam explains. “You don’t mind, right?” Sebastian grunts in response as if to dismiss him. Sam chuckles to himself.

You attempt to focus back on your shot, feeling an extra pressure with Sebastian here. Not only is he good at pool, but you have a desire to impress him. You take a deep breath while leaned over the table before pulling back and sinking your fourth solid.

“Killing me,” Sam mutters and you laugh. Sneaking a peak to the couch on your right, Sebastian has his gaze trained on the table. You locate your next shot on the left side and lean down facing the moody man, biting your lip as you try to position the pool cue perfectly. The shot is good, but your next one isn’t hard enough to sink the ball, though it’s in the perfect position only a few inches from the corner pocket.

Sam manages to hit a couple, celebrating loudly after each. When your turn comes back around, you have to circle the table to face the corner, your back to Sebastian. It gives you some comfort to know his view is blocked and if you miss the softball of a shot you’re about to take, he won’t be able to see it as clearly. You lean over, trying to ignore the weird expressions shooting across Sam’s face directed behind you, and pocket it.

One more lucky hit later, you call your shot for the 8-ball and, likely much to Sebastian’s relief as he’s stuck spectating, win the game. You cheer, waving the pool cue in the air as you jump excitedly. Sam congratulates you begrudgingly, crossing his arms.

“All yours, Seb,” you announce, laying the stick down on the table with a look of pride still clear on your face. You turn to look at the man on the couch as he fidgets.

Rising to his feet, he stuffs his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I’m going to have a smoke, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“I’ll go with,” you say. Unsurprisingly, your self invite doesn’t excite him l but you don’t let it stop you.

You follow his lead through the crowded saloon and out the door. The sun has set and you realize just how warm it was inside, feeling your skin tighten in response to the chill in the air despite being just around the corner from summer.

Sebastian pulls a cigarette out, putting one end in his mouth and flicking the lighter, holding it to the other end. He shields the flame from the wind, the motion reflecting the light of the flame to his face moreso than before. Once it ignites, he stuffs the lighter back in his jeans pocket and buries his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, seemingly feeling the effects of the cold air as well.

You pull the thin fabric of your long sleeve shirt further over your hands, crossing your arms around the bottom of your ribcage in an attempt to combat the cold. Sebastian blows out a puff of smoke, finally looking over at you. His eyes flicker down, almost as if to look at your chest, but they meet your eye before the motion can register. “You seem cold.” You realize the indents of your now-hardened nipples are prevalent in your top and you move your arms further up, trying to brush it off as a natural response.

“I’m fine,” you reply. “We don’t need to talk, since you hate it so much.”

“Then why follow me out here?” he interrogates.

“Crowded in there,” you answer with a shrug. He clearly doesn’t believe you, but you add nothing else in your defense. Silence stretches on, and you fight back all the things you’d been dying to say to him since the end of winter. To your surprise, his voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Looked good with Alex the other day.” You don’t reply. “Make it official yet?”

“Make what official?”

“You two,” he says, pointing between you and the Mullner household just around the corner from the saloon.

“There’s nothing to make official.”

“Got rejected?”

“No,” you snap. “Nothing to reject, either.” He says nothing. “What is it with him?”

“You tell me.”

“Really, Sebastian. You get so weird about Alex. Are you jealous of him or something?” He scoffs, taking another deep drag from his cigarette.

You study him from the corner of your eye. He’s shutting down, not about to give you any real answer and there’s nothing you can do about it but go about the next few days or weeks until your paths cross and you corner him into a conversation. Before you can think too much about it, you reach over and grab the cigarette from his mouth, putting it between your own lips and sucking in dark smoke.

After exhaling, you hold it between you to offer it back. When Sebastian doesn’t take it, you finally look over and his mouth is hanging open slightly, eyebrows furrowed, but he doesn’t necessarily look pissed. A moment of silence passes and you groan, taking the initiative to place the cig back between his lips. He closes around it, taking a small puff before pulling it back out and holding it between his index and middle finger, still waiting for some sort of explanation.

“I don’t know what your deal is with Alex.”

“You want to know what my deal is?” he challenges.

“Yes! Dear Yoba, yes!” you exclaim.

He turns to look at you, his torso still pressed against the exterior wall. “I hate the things Alex has. I hate that he has them, and that I don’t.”

“What does he have? Muscles?”

“I have muscles,” Sebastian retorts. You raise an eyebrow skeptically, lips twisted in a half-smile. “But no. He has money to buy you fancy gifts and people that really care about him. He has the boldness to talk to you whenever he wants, however he wants, and he has the charisma to make you like it.”

“I’d argue that you do that, too.” Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You give me the silent treatment for days at a time. I have to grovel with you to have a conversation, and I have to adjust my schedule to catch you outside your room, away from your work. You bitch at me for whatever’s got you in a mood that day and I take it and I sit with it until the next time I get to talk to you. You tell me you have no interest in talking to me and I spend so much time wondering how to change that. So yeah, I think you get away with a lot more than he does.”

“That’s because you’re annoyingly outgoing, not because you care any more about me than you do anyone else.”

“That’s not true,” you snap. “You’d know that if you’d bother to ask, or even just think critically for a few seconds.”

“You’d know that I don’t hate talking to you most of the time if you did the same.”

“You told me you don’t care to talk to me. You want me to ask clarifying questions after that?”

“What more do you need from me? I’m not going to get on my knees and beg you for your time,” Sebastian sneers.

“Do you think that’s what I’m asking for?”

He shrugs. “I let you hit my cigarettes, I don’t actively avoid you… what more is there?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you fein confusion. “Telling me how you feel instead of —apparently— lying to me? Even just talking to me like a normal person once in a while? ‘Hey Y/n.’ ‘How are you, Y/n?’ ‘You look good today, Y/n.’”

“You do look good today,” Sebastian mumbles begrudgingly, taking another puff of his cigarette.

“And you look good every fucking day! But I never get the chance to tell you because you ignore me or you bring up Alex and talk about how annoyed you are that he pays me even a shred of attention.”

“Because it’s annoying that he does that.”

“So you want me to do what exactly? Rely on you to give me any and all conversation? I’ll go stir crazy if I only speak to someone twice a month while twisting their arm to do so.”

“I’d be happy to talk to you more if you stop bringing him up,” Sebastian snips at you. “Until you get over him, I don’t see that happening.”

You glare at the tall, brooding man. “I’m not under him.”

“As much as you wish you were,” he says under his breath. It’s not quiet enough, the valley’s silence after sunset too encapsulating for him to get away with his dig.

“If I wanted to be, I would.”

Sebastian hums around his cigarette. “So what’s stopping you?”

“I don’t think about Alex the same way I think about you. Alex is a friend and that’s all I want him to be.”

His fidgeting come to a halt for a moment, turning to face you. “Then how do you think about me?” His voice is low, speaking barely above a whisper.

You match him, your body pointed in his direction. “I think about you all the time. When I wake up, when I’m in the mines, when I go home. When I get into bed…”

Sebastian steps closer, only a few inches from you now. “Mhmm… and what do you do when you think about me?”

You look up at him through your eyelashes. The way he phrases his words implores you to open up to him and bare it all. Maybe it’s liquid courage or the adrenaline of raising your voice or finally speaking your mind. “It depends.”

“Yeah?”

“Sometimes I scream into a pillow at how frustrating you are.” Sebastian cracks a smile. “Sometimes I scream into a pillow at the thought of how good you could make me feel.”

“You think about it too, hmm?” he says, free hand moving up to place his fingers under your chin, keeping your gaze locked on him. Despite the cool spring breeze, your cheeks are red with heat.

“Yeah,” you breathe. Your fingers grab at the front of his hoodie, lacing with the fabric to bring him closer to you. The scent of cigarette smoke grows stronger, but so does the remnants of his spearmint gum. The two work together to create something that feels intoxicating to you, and all you want is to finally taste it.

Sebastian must notice how your eyes are trained on his soft lips. He puts his hands on either side of your face, cigarette still barely tucked between his left fingers, and pulls you to him, ducking down to close the gap your heights leave. Your lips touch, and you let out a small breath of relief, of desire. It spurs him on, right hand moving to the small of your back and pressing you to him as if no space between your bodies is still too much space. Your arms wrap around his neck, keeping him at your level. When his tongue swipes across your bottom lip, you don’t hesitate to allow him entrance, basking in his taste as your tongues meet.

“Think we should leave,” he mumbles between kisses, not making any move to let you go.

You nod against him.

“Gotta tell Sam.”

“Tell him what?” you whine, breathless.

“So much,” Sebastian groans. “But,” he finally pulls away, keeping you in his arms but standing straight so he falls just out of reach, your arms shifting down around his waist. “I gotta tell him I’m leaving.”

Before you can object, he slips out of your grasp, stomping on his cigarette butt and heading inside, leaving you to catch your breath as you lean against the brick siding of the saloon. Maybe thirty seconds later, he’s back out with Sam at his heels who watches you two in disbelief.

“Have fun, you crazy kids!” the blonde calls out as Sebastian wraps his arm around your waist and steers you toward your farm.

You walk in silence, the side of your body pressed to his. You can’t think of anything to interrupt the noise of chirping crickets around you, and certainly nothing to build the tension between you that doesn’t feel embarrassing to say out loud even in the darkness of the dirt walk home. “Second thoughts?” you finally ask as minutes elapse with nothing exchanged between the two of you.

“Fuck no,” Sebastian snarls. “Trying not to look at you or think about you… I want to last long enough to at least make it inside.”

You giggle, pulling him closer and slipping your fingers under his hoodie, nails pressed into his side.

After unlocking your farmhouse, he steps in and immediately spins you against the barely-closed front door. His lips are on yours for a moment before moving down your jaw to your neck, nimble fingers scrambling to tug your shirt past your stomach. He takes a moment to feel your delicate skin, running along your ribcage and the bottoms of your breasts before parting to pull your shirt over your head. “Bold move skipping a bra in this weather.” He stands back, admiring your exposed chest, nipples still hard from the cool air and the arousal he’s provided you in the last few minutes.

“Your turn,” you prompt, moving closer to tug at his hoodie. He pulls it off in one swift motion, and you help take off his t-shirt. He hadn’t lied when he said he had muscles—Robin must put him to work once in a while. His torso is lean, stomach harder to the touch than you’d imagined. The black-inked tattoos that lie hidden on his chest accentuate the divots formed by labor. His arms are understated, but as he reaches forward to grab you, the motion brings out a defined strain below his skin. Sebastian pulls you to him with ease, connecting your lips as your warmed skin meets. The way he writhes against you, uses his whole torso to break your kisses, creates friction that electrifies you, stemming from your sensitive nipples. You moan against his mouth, and his hands quickly wander to your ass, feeling it while he pulls you closer, finally achieving the perfect angle to thrust his clothed length against your core.

“Seb,” you cry, fingers tangled in the hair at the back of his head.

“C’mere, princess,” he mumbles, hands fastening tightly under your ass as he pushes you up against the door, pulling your thighs around his waist and settling you around him. Once he secures you, he moves you to your bed, setting you on your back with his thighs holding your legs up around him. He grinds into you as his tongue slips back between your lips, meeting your own.

Your hands feel down his chest, down his stomach, using the dark hair forming a line from his belly button down to his jeans to find the button before fumbling with it. “So greedy,” Sebastian comments, slowing his movements to allow you easier work.

“I want you so bad,” you groan. Even if he was inside of you in the next second, it would still be far too long of a wait.

Seb steps onto the cold wooden floor of your bedroom to finish pulling off his black skinny jeans, kicking them away as they pool around his ankles. He uses the opportunity to tug off your own jeans, smiling as he eyes your black panties with a tiny bow placed in the middle of the waistband just below your belly button. “Were you expecting me, baby?”

“Just hoping,” you admit, happy to find him content with your underwear choice.

He pats your hip. “Turn around, let me see the back.”

You follow his instructions, flipping over with your elbows rested on your pillows, arching your back as you allow him to see your ass in your black panties, pulled tight to the curves of it. Seb groans, placing a hand tightly on the flesh before slapping it harshly, making you jump. “So cute,” he purrs.

His hand slides down, thumb pressing against your core to feel the dampness gathering between your legs through the thin fabric. “Do you get this wet every time you think about me at night?”

You shake your head. “Reality is much better than my imagination.”

“I’m glad, princess, but I haven’t even gotten started with you.” Pulling his hand back, he prompts you to sit up, legs on either side of him as he stands next to your bed. He carefully slides his fingers under your panties, pulling them off as you hold your hips up to help him, arms stretched out behind you. “So beautiful,” he sighs to himself as he takes in your naked body stretched out before him, legs still parted and allowing him full view of your pussy.

“I wanna see you too,” you tell him, reaching forward to his black boxers. The bulge in the fabric of them is apparent, stretching down a decent portion of his thigh.

“Take ‘em off then,” Seb grins, giving you permission to strip him of the last of his clothing. You take your time, slowly revealing his length until all that’s left is the tip. With one final pull, his cock springs out, hot pink tip extended toward you. You pull your bottom lip into your mouth as you take it all in, the knot in your stomach tightening. The lack of friction between your legs is growing increasingly irritating, and your thighs close together in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the ache. “What do you think?” If you hadn’t been looking at one of the most appealing dicks you’d ever seen before, you might think he sounded nervous.

“So fucking hot.”

Sebastian smirks. “All big for you.”

He sits at the head of the bed, propped up by pillows. Patting his chest, he motions for you to lay between his legs. You do so slowly, feeling him press into the small of your back and a groan escapes his throat, bucking his hips involuntarily as you settle against him. Seb pulls your hair behind your back, sinking his teeth into the side of your neck and soothing it over with his tongue. His left hand sneaks around to play with your nipple while his right slowly travels down your stomach, stroking your inner thighs as he sucks bruises into your delicate skin. You arch your back against him, reaching a hand into his hair and tugging at it as he toys with your breasts.

“Sebbb,” you cry, pressing your thighs together as if trying to slide his hand up to your heat.

He lets out a guttural chuckle, loud against your ear. The sound shoots directly down to your core. “Use your words, baby.”

“Touch me, please.”

“Where?”

“Here!” you whimper, removing your hand from his hair and reaching to your dripping cunt.

“Mm-mmm,” he scolds, shaking his head. “Words, princess.” His hand releases your nipple, gripping your wrist tightly to stop you from touching yourself.

“You’re just as exasperating in bed as you are outside of it.”

“I know. You’re surprised?” he asks, feigning shock.

You wiggle, trying to get your hand free from his tight grasp. Giving up, you reach down with your other hand, but he uses the one on your thigh to block you. “Words,” he barks, low in your ear, nipping at the tender spot he just sucked into your neck and refraining from taking away the sting with his mouth. “Do you think I’m joking? Do you think I won’t leave right now to get rope to tie you up with?” You lean into him, giving up the fight. “All you have to do is tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. Not that hard, princess.”

“Touch my pussy,” you finally plead. And Sebastian is true to his word; he releases your wrists and snakes his fingers down, dipping his middle finger into your cunt knuckle-deep, collecting your wetness and spreading it up to your clit. Even that motion after all the teasing is enough to elicit a moan, and this spurs on the man to slide his finger easily inside you, thumb rubbing tight circles on your sensitive bud as he thrusts.

“Ready for another?” he asks, to which you squeak out a confirmation. He tucks his ring finger inside, joining his middle, fucking in and out of you as you clench around him. “So wet,” Seb mumbles, leaning to latch onto the other side of your neck with his lips. His other hand returns to your breasts, pinching at your nipples as you lean into him. “Can you take one more?”

“Yes,” you answer, moving your hips in time with his fingers. He adds his index into you, stretching out your hole in preparation for his thick cock. The tips tilt upward, rubbing against the spongy spot inside you. You buck your hips involuntarily, feeling him so deep inside you. While Sebastian’s fingers are long, his cock is nearly twice the length and you quiver at the thought of it inside you. His length twitches, poking against your back as if to remind you of what’s to come.

“Think you’re ready, baby?” he asks. “Wanna be inside you so bad. You feel so tight on my fingers.”

“I’m ready, Seb.”

He pulls out, leaving your cunt feeling incredibly empty. “On your knees, sweetheart. Wanna watch you fuck yourself on my cock right now.”

You bring your legs into your body, tucking your knees below you and spreading them to stabilize yourself on either side of Sebastian. You watch him stroke himself beneath your pussy, hovering over and waiting for him to position his length. He drags his tip from your clit to your hole, spreading his precum mixed with your slick along his length. Once his strokes sound wet and dirty below you, he pokes his tip at your entrance and you tighten at the anticipation. Sebastian reaches around your hip with his other hand to rub your clit as you begin to sit, taking him in slowly.

While he’s making you feel so good, you can tell that he’s distracted now, eyes trained at his groin as he watches himself disappear inside you. When his tip is fully tucked inside, he groans, letting go of his cock and squeezing the fat of your ass, spreading it aside to better see his cock entering you. “So fucking sexy,” he praises. “Such a good girl.”

With his thick tip inside, the rest of his cock is easier to manage though the length building inside you is intense as the backs of your thighs finally meet his hips. You let out the breath you’d been holding, finally feeling his entirety buried inside your cunt. Seb grabs at your hips, holding you down on him as he grinds into you, his tip poking your insides in such a way that you have to grip onto the sheets in front of you for dear life.

He breaks the silence, finally letting out his own deep breath. “Y/n, holy fucking shit.”

“Mm-hmm,” you agree, unable to manage any real words yet.

“Dear Yoba, please,” he whines, “please.”

“Please what?” you inquire, smirking to yourself.

His palm meets your ass with a swift smack. “Don’t be a brat.”

“Use your words,” you tease mockingly.

Sebastian easily lifts your hips, nearly pulling you all the way off his cock before pulling them back down abruptly and you fight off a yelp, coming out instead as a pornographic moan. “Don’t be a brat,” he repeats, emphasizing each word with quick shallow thrusts. You take over, moving yourself up and down his length as he watches, clingy fingers digging into your ass and prodding at your hole sliding along his cock, wetness dripping out as he fills up all the space in your cunt with each thrust.

You roll your hips as you bounce on top of Sebastian, positioning him to hit your g-spot each time you sink down. You squeeze your breasts and rub at your clit as you fuck yourself, head rolling back. Seb reaches up, gripping onto your hair cascading down your body to keep you in place, back arched as his hips meet yours. They roam you with abandon, taking the opportunity to grope you in all the ways the man can think of. As your moans get louder, he attempts to take more control until he finally pulls you off him.

He presses a firm hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to your elbows. As he kneels behind you, his cock begs entrance to your soaked pussy and he pushes in with ease. Though you’d gotten used to his girth, even a few seconds of emptiness had nearly reset you and you have to readjust to him. He barely gives you enough time before picking up the pace and burying your face into the blankets below you. You tilt your head to the side, cheek pressed harshly onto the bed as you admire Seb fucking you from behind.

His dark hair is pushed back, revealing most of his face for a change. The studs in his ears reflect the moonlight filtering in through the window near the bed, muscles glistening similarly in sweat. His face is twisted in concentration and pleasure, focused on keeping up the rapid thrusting of his hips and pleasuring you while holding back his own orgasm. You suck in a breath, biting on your lip as you take in the beautiful man bringing you closer and closer to the edge, his fingers leaving bruises on your hips.

Seb notices you staring and he can’t fight back the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips. “Hi baby,” he purrs, giving your lower back a soft stroke. “Feel good?”

“Yeah-h,” you manage.

“Me too, so fucking good. Fucking tight and wet, all for me, yeah?”

You nod fervently. “All for you. Y’r cock s’fucking big.”

“Taking it so good.” Sebastian’s thrusts have slowed into harsh, deep ones that fill you entirely. You grip the blankets in your fists, knuckles turning white. “Getting close?” You nod again, pathetically, starting to melt into him. All you can think of is the pleasure he’s giving you and you’ll do anything to feel it and ride out your orgasm with it.

“G’nna cum f’r me?” he asks again, leaning down to rub harshly at your clit. “Cum all over mm’ cock?”

“Yes, Seb!” you cry.

“Wanna feel you soak me, princess,” he commands, lips sprinkling wet kisses along your spine. “Pussy g’nna be so filled with our cum soon, yeah? ‘M gonna watch it drip out, kay?”

The knot growing in your stomach since the moment he kissed you reaches its height and you feel it snap all at once, a moment of serenity before your orgasm floods over you. You arch your back and let out strangled cries, letting all the words in your brain come tumbling out from your lips in a slurred mess. “Sebbyyy!” you groan as his fingers press into your hips tighter. “Y’make me feel s’fucking good, fuck! Please fill me Sebby.”

He groans, leaning further down against your back as he releases, whimpering mixes of your name and sweet pet names as he unloads into your cunt. His grunts turn to moans and whimpers in your ear as he finishes, hips gradually coming to a stop as you both come down from your highs. “Holy fuck,” he finally sighs, his body weight fully on you now.

“Fuck,” you sniffle, breathing labored.

You two lie on the bed for a minute, only focused on catching your breath as your sweaty bodies stick to one another. You can feel Sebastian’s dick slowly shrink inside you, blood flow directing back to his brain. Finally, he carefully peels himself away, pulling himself out of you. Seb ushers you back up on your knees, earning a groan but reluctant compliance. He sits back and admires the mess left on his cock, admires it dripping out of your used pussy. He uses two fingers to swipe the wet, then reaches around and rests it against your bottom lip. “Have a taste, hmm?”

You open your mouth and he wastes no time resting his fingers against your tongue. Your lips close around him, sucking the mix of your cum from him and humming at the sweet and saltiness. It tastes like pure desire and dirtiness, a final reminder of your time together as his half-hard length rests against your ass before he pulls away.

Your legs shaky, you finally roll over and collapse on your back, Seb following your lead and lying next to you. “Second thoughts?” he asks, looking over at you.

“Fuck no,” you grin. “You?”

“Fuck no.” He wraps a lazy arm around you. “If I could, I’d do it again right now.”

You nod, turning to nuzzle your face against the side of his neck as your eyelids flutter closed. “Staying?” you mumble.

“Have to go home,” Seb groans. “You need your sleep and I don’t think I can accommodate that for very long.” You wrap your arms around him in protest, but he easily breaks through as he sits up, looking down at your spent, naked body. “I think I’ll see you tomorrow though, yeah?”

You smile, gathering the willpower to gaze up at him. One side of his face is covered in the shadows, but the other is illuminated by the moonlight sneaking through the window and you wish you could stay in this moment a little longer and just look at him. The sharp bones over his eyes and along his jaw, toned arms holding himself up, scattered hairs along his torso pointing to the object of your desire as it drapes over his inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you belatedly agree.

“Call me in the morning. Let me know if you need any help covering this up.” Seb reaches down and gently strokes a tender spot on your neck, realizing it must be bruising from the force of his teeth and lips earlier. “I can probably ask Abi for some advice.”

Sebastian begins picking up piles of clothing from the floor, pulling on his boxers, jeans, and hoodie before sliding his sneakers back on. Holding a dark black t-shirt in his hand, he offers it to you. “Put this on so you don’t freeze tonight.” You take it gingerly. Leaning down to pepper your lips with soft kisses, Seb finally makes his exit with a quiet goodbye and you drift to sleep, surrounded by his scent.

[ch3rrybbie]

Need.

Randall Kirkland x fem!reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

———

Summary: You can’t seem to stay away from Randall, you’re yet to speak and he can’t stop staring. Why do you feel like you know him? What does he want? What do you need?

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, unprotected sex, oral (fem and male receiving), fingering, masturbation, smutty daydreams, y/n is stubborn asf.

Note from author: Hi there! Tysm to the love on the snippet I put out, I just randomly write it and decided to share it and I’m so glad I did lol. I hope this lives up to what yall were expecting and I hope you enjoy. I will deffo probs write more for Randall and other fandoms so drop requests( hopefully Ik them). Also this is basically my first ever fic and time writing smut so pls be nice and I hope it’s not too bad lmao😭😭😭

———

You’d been in town for four months now. And as much as a hell hole as it could and would prove itself to be you were thankful for the reprieve from the outside world. You’d come alone on a post college road trip looking for something anything as to what your life should be as to who you would be. Then came the crows the tree and the bogeymen in the woods.

———

Life soon became mundane, wake, work eat sleep repeat. You’d decided to live in town and not colony house,your double bed becoming a lifesaver through those long cold nights. Whilst your house didn’t have the charm of your dorm or home bedroom you tried your best. Forgoing fairy lights and band posters you supplemented with writing down song lyrics and crudely drawn flowers on the walls you were no artist but it was something to look at before the whispering and tapping got too loud and you reverted back to tucking your head under the covers, knowing all that kept you from them was a rock loosely strung on the door.But you spent your fair share of time at colony house helping rule the roost with Donna and she’d grown to love you fiercely like a daughter and it kept you going.

The day the bus arrived,the day he came,was almost alike any other. You woke at sunrise to help Tian Chen with opening the diner after Sara’s…retirement. You were wiping down the tables when you saw it through the windows. The bus had lazily rolled in and heaved to a stop right outside the diner and you saw him swing off its disgruntled steps. Tall, toned with a buzzed head and a face like thunder you mused to yourself. But there was something maybe lust or the delirious state the town caused, something tugged you to him. A feeling that you should go let him know you were there, an obligation.

You heaved the thought down, as unpleasant as swallowing bile.

———

Upon Kenny’s command you resigned yourself to ushering in the bus folk. Your eyes caught Donna’s and with it you passed a sympathetic glare you hoped she understood its messaging-“I’m sorry you have to go this again but don’t be too much of a bitch with them”.

Most of them were heartwarmingly lovely to a point your heart broke, they didn’t know the fate that had befallen them.The pain and suffering they were yet to face. You remembered exactly how each and every second felt and resorted to flittering around helping how you could, making sure their steaming cups of herbal tea were always brimming. As you were filling an old lady’s second cup you heard a gunshot go off.

Your world span. Ears ringing you dropped the cup it’s shatter giving music to your pounding steps as you burst out the diner.

“Donna?!” you yelled praying she’d be able to answer.

“I’m fine sweetie but hold the door” she casually threw back her eyes trained on someone, gun pushed into their chest.

Burning heat arose as he turned his head, his furrowed brows lifting as soon as he saw you a confused look replacing his disgruntled one. He cocked an eyebrow, as if to say you know this crazy bitch??? You ignored him and felt envy flush over you as you watched Ellis and Fatima run off hand in hand after escaping bus passengers.

You wondered if you’d ever have someone that would run with you into danger without a second thought.

You begrudgingly followed Donna’s request ushering the last of the bus strangers into the diner hoping the simulated warmth would numb the fear of the tapping and whispering yet to come.

Donna kept him for last seemingly keeping a close eye on him gun nudging him periodically. Time seemed to slow the closer he got, his stature seemed to exaggerate with his hands strung loosely in the air, a sarcastic surrender. He was surprisingly stocky, muscles taught as his agitation grew stronger.

Your eyes once again locked and your breath caught in your throat. A spark lit within your stomach and spread all throughout you. He had a similar lust struck gaze yet his eyes never left yours,never once walked across your body.

You snapped your head away.

Donna incredulously looked between the two of you and shoved him into the diner. You dared not to turn and look for him in the sea of strangers. And yet that did nothing to quell you swelling desire, you felt it cresting, waiting to come crashing down.

It was going to be a long night.

———

As soon as the sun streaked through the windows you legged it out of there citing a lack of sleep. Which was true you felt his gaze on you the whole night and you hadn’t looked once.

———

It’d been a few days since you’d had your weird eye fuck with the stranger from the bus. Randall, as you’d come to find out and you’d vowed to push aside all thoughts of him and refusing to even use his name although your only danger of using it was at night when your convictions stuttered and were only quelled by toe curling thoughts of him.

Issue was he did anything but ignore you. He was everywhere.

He was at colony house arguing with Donna. He was atop the bus staring down all who dare walk past. Hell he was even occasionally scoffing his face in the diner. And yet you avoided him, not a single word uttered yet he had your heart hitching.

His staring persisted despite your avoidance. It seemed to only make him hungrier to see you.

You found yourself slipping into thoughts of what he smelt, tasted and fucked like.

Thoughts. That was all you could have.

No more.

———

You were trudging up to colony house after a late night drinking with Jade, in summary you lost your bet of out drinking him and he soon was let in on your little secret. But you trusted him. The only person you could never tell was looking at you a face like thunder. Your confusion clouded your perception and failed to see Randall him marching away from Donna.

Your breath caught in your throat as he got closer, you felt exposed. It was a balmy spring day so you’d sported jeans and a tank top thinking nothing of it. He finally let his eyes slip down your body, staring greedily, seemingly committing it to memory.

You’d reprimand him if you weren’t doing the same.

He wore a white tank with an open t shirt strung on top, his jeans tight in all the right places. You were about to look at his arms again before the muscle in his jaw clenched harder and he barrelled on.

Donna loomed at the top of the porch steps a face like thunder. And yet she didn’t care to rant about the backend of the altercation you saw.

Shit.

“You greenhouse now” she spat.

Fuck.

She shut the door behind the two of you with a slam so you opted to give your now peace offering, “Look here’s the bulb I told you about I think it’s gonna look great with the-“.

“Honey, we all have needs and wants I understand that but HIM?!” she flung out incredulously hands on hips. With your face a mixture of horror and confusion she continued “I saw the way you two looked at each other that first day at the diner and I’m sure you’ve done more than look since, hell what was that just now?!”

God you wished.

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Donna nothings happened, and as far as I’m concerned nothing will”

Her shoulders sagged and she sighed, “Good , you deserve someone better than him”

You cringed at that. Was he that bad?

“Now show me my beautiful new tulip bulb” she proclaimed.

———

Donna’s comment had been bouncing around your head for days alongside seeing less of Randall him, tension was building.

Yesterday you spied him working on a truck and couldn’t help but walk closer. He Sported the same white tank that exposed this thick corded arms. He’d grunted as he’d rolled himself under the truck. Jeans straining to contain him, legs spread. Arms straining with force. You imagined what it’d be like to even sit on his lap clothed, how good you’d feel.

How good you could make him feel.

You’d pictured him taking you pressed against the hood of the truck. Skirt flipped up, exposed for all to see. Tits bare and pebbling against the cold harsh metal. He’d stroke you first you were sure, then he’d fuck his thick cock into you. Uniting pain and pleasure,he’d make you taste yourself on his thick calloused fingers as he took you for all to see.

The day dream vanished as you watched a girl from colony house , Lola? Lila?, walk up to him and hand him water as he rolled out from under the truck.

Your heart dropped and an amassing wave of disappointment came over you. Albeit foolishly , you’d thought his attention had been solely concentrated on you and not whoever would reciprocate it.

You turned walked home before he could see you.

That night you couldn’t help but call his name as you came to the thought of him working on his truck.

———

The last place you could think of being alone was the woods, I mean your bedroom was the other but your thoughts couldn’t be controlled there as you’d realised last night.

After seeing him with the girl from colony house your conviction became stronger. And you decided to strengthen it alone in the woods the last thing you needed was to see him.

You started your descent into the peace, the trees were lush with greenery and swayed welcomingly. It was a thick, sweaty day. Your sundress swung as you walked providing the cool breeze you needed.How funny, you were trapped in a hellish town full of monsters human and other and yet it was so beautiful. Flowers were starting to sprout up through the dense leaves of the forest floor and you couldn’t help but be entranced. The less funny part was who your brain was obsessed with happened to be who you had decided was the resident fuck boy.

“Hey”

Speak of the devil.

Your heart pounded in your chest knowing the monsters wouldn’t be so polite. Your eyes were snatched up from the forest floor to all six foot of him lazily leaning across a tree. Same tank top and jeans as your daydream. He must be on break from working on his truck.

FUCKKKKKKKKKKKK. He looks good.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” He inquired.

You awkwardly shuffled and looked around.

“Sorry forgot everything is secret here, you smoke?” He asked coolly

Taken by surprise you chuckled, “uhhhh yeah before, well you know” you gestured around you.

He hummed cigarette already between his teeth.in one slick motion he’d lit it and started steadily approaching you taking a drag. He lazily held it to you.

You leant forward not breaking eye contact as hou took a drag, cigarette still between his fingers. You could’ve sworn he swallowed harshly, but the moment was cut short as you spluttered and coughed.

It’d been awhile since you’d last smoked.

He laughed heartily and his hand slipped to your back stroking and patting till your coughing seized. His hand awkwardly retracted and you longed for its warmth to grace you again. He attempted to strike up a conversation again before seeming to change his mind, lips pressing back together.

They looked soft.

He had always seemed so sure of himself how strange you mused to yourself.

“I’ve seen you staring at me” you burst out, regretting it as soon as it fled you lips. So much for secrecy.

He chuckled caught aback then grew somewhat serious taking another drag, “You like it?”

“No” you lied through your teeth

“Really?” He smirked.

He paused, “It’s not like I haven’t seen you looking back sweetheart”

He looked satisfied with his own reply slowly walking back shrugging and once again leaning against the tree.

He smiled a boyishly handsome grin,took a longer drag taking in your shocked face.

SWEETHEART?! Really, he truly was a fuck boy then huh.

You once again lost control of you mouth, “I don’t think your colony house girlfriend would be too happy about you calling me sweetheart” you spat.

He coughs out smoke unable to stop himself from laughing,“ Who?” he laughs.

You refuse to let his facade get to you, not helping him with the answer.

His confusion blends back into another stupid smirk, “Oh, Laine?” He chuckles, eyes narrowing to gauge your reaction.

Laine? You think to yourself, what a stupid name. Lame Laine. EW! no you refuse to fight some random girl over him. He didn’t belong to you.

As much as you wanted him to.

Your eyes flicked back to his and something seemed to cross his face. His eyes darkened.

He knew. He knew you wanted him.

He slowly approached.

“You still want some?”, he asked. Gesturing to the cigarette.

He read your apprehension and said something that was dizzying to you.

“I could shotgun you” he she shrugged eyes not leaving yours. Unable to speak you nodded… a little too enthusiastically and he smirked. You could’ve sworn his eyes darkened.

He tilts your head up softly but as firm as needed to align your lips to his, all that separated you was air. With bated breath loosening unwillingly out your mouth in a sigh, your were lips parted in anticipation. Something he seemed to be unable to mock his face sporting the same intense stare as if he could unfurl your lips and drive you over the edge of what you weren’t sure madness pleasure?. Slowly, softly he blew the smoke into your mouth and you felt so intensely in need of him that it didn’t feel like breathing him in, it simply felt like breathing whole for the first time. It felt as natural as anything being this close needing him there needing him anywhere on you or near you. His fingers felt nice but the searing want shared silently was a feeling like no other. It radiated beyond magnetism. Staring at each other no longer held challenge but you were looking, truly seeing each other for the first time beyond the facade beyond this bodies you didn’t need to scratch the itch of knowing the conclude something. You’d know him before.

You breathed in the smoke he blew, eyes not breaking from his. His pupils were blown and it was your time to smirk. If you didn’t know before you knew now.

He wanted you too.

You blew out the smoke as slowly as you could. His eyes fixated on your lips.

He looked entranced.

His hand still cupped your jaw, his thumb coming up to glide across your lower lip. Smoke gone, you pulled his thumb into your mouth and sucked. His eyes once again met yours. “Fuck” he breathed out.

It was your turn to tease him. You spied the cigarette. It’s sweet red cherry still burning, you decided whatever was about to happen was going to burn like that.

Fast and hot.

Fuck it you thought.

You took it from his fingers, he was still entranced.

You breathed it in slowly and pushed on your toes to meet his face. Your tits brushed his chest. Your noses skimmed. His hands dropped to grip your hips and they bunched up the material of your dress. Surprisingly slowly but surely your lips softly bumped and grazed each other and you blew out the smoke. He didn’t breathed it in, so puzzled you stayed like that eyes locked till neither of you could bear it any longer.

He snapped out of the trance.

Your lips crashed together desire encompassing you heat moving lower. He smelt like pine and sea air and sweat and smoke and oil.

He tasted salty. His lips were soft.

It was almost all too delicious.

Almost.

You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as his hand smoothed up your back to hold your head and pull you in further. He grabbed your thighs and pulled you up easily. He grinned into you as the kisses grew hot and sloppy.

Your back hit a tree and the friction between you started to give you much needed release. He started pushing his hardening crotch into yours. He broke the kiss, “I knew you wanted me” he leered. “Shut up” you groaned and seized his lips back to yours.

His lips start to wander sucking your neck and finding the spot that made you push out a lengthened moan, legs attempting to pull him in further.

“Fuck you needed this almost as much as me huh baby” he croons as his hand slithers from your waist. It skims up your stomach leaving goosebumps in its wake. It reaches your tit feeling its weight even inside your bra. His hand snakes in and is surprisingly cold, you hiss. “Awe is it cold baby” he mocks as he smooths his thumb over your pebbling nipple, his eyes flick to yours. “Huh baby?”, he pinches and rolls your nipple to elicit an answer. “Fuck yes” you hiss, your hips jerking even further into his.

You pull his face back to yours with both hands, teeth clashing wantonly as you kiss him viciously. He moans breathlessly , gasping and moaning as your hand slips to press against the outline of his hard cock. It’s as big as you thought.

“Tell me what you need baby” he begs, his grip on your hip tightening. You refuse to answer, smirking. He grabs your hand from his crotch and pushes his bulge into your underwear covered crotch. You throw your head back against the trunk and your moans come out as hums through your clamped lips. “Come on baby tell me what you need”.

A vision of you knelt before him flashed into you mind. And you grew wet. Going down on someone sometimes felt submissive, degrading even. But with him the idea of teasing and controlling him whilst knelt before him. You needed it.

You pushed him away and he lowered you to your feet looking sheepish.

“I’m sorry did I do something that-”

You cut him off by sinking to your knees and open palm sliding down his front and down his clothed thighs. You applied more pressure the closer to his crotch you got.

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, “Is this okay baby?” You crooned.

“Yes” he breathed out.

You took your time.

Unbuckling his belt and sliding it out, you kissed the outline of his cock in his jeans before unzipping and sliding them down. You made quick work of his boxers and there he was.

As big as you thought, bigger even. The head of his cock was burning red and seeping with precum.

Oh he was aching for you.

How many nights had he fisted his cock to images of you?

You trace a finger over the seeping head and he hisses. You smirk, “is that sensitive baby?”. You do it again and he moans long and deep. You trace a finger down the thick veins and caress his balls and he rewards you with a needy “please baby”.

You lean forward on your knees and kiss the tip. Kiss the shaft and lick your way down to his aching balls. You return you attention to the seeping head continuing to kiss is gently allowing the kisses to get sloppier. His hips jerk towards you and you indulge him. His burning tip slips into your mouth and you lower it till your nose brushes against his lower stomach. You keep your rhythm soft and slow and he melts into you. His moans must be reaching the town by now and you hoped that colony house girl heard. You started to increase your suction and go faster and he pulls you off him. You release him with a lavicious pop.

He tucks himself back into his jeans and you stand there unsure until he surges down tasting himself on you. He backs you up against a tree and drops onto a knee. Both of his hands snake up your legs lifting your dress and stroking your wet heat over your panties. He kisses your thighs and licks a thick wet stripe over your clothed clit. He tugs your pants down maintaining eye contact as he spits onto your bare gleaming pussy. He kisses you clit achingly soft and begins to lick and kiss building your already approaching orgasm. You begin to gyrate against his now gleaming face. His now hot calloused hand rubs your clit and he pulls away and just stares at you. His confidence vanquished, his face desperate to watch you come. He dives back and guides two finger into your heat and curls them perfectly. Your loud breathing transforms into moans uncaring of who might hear. He hums into your aching pussy seemingly encouraging you. White hot heat encases you everything goes numb as you come around his knuckle deep fingers, pussy spasming. He watches your face contort in pleasure and continues his ministrations carrying you through.

Your breathing stills and he rises lifting his fingers to your lips, letting them sink into your awaiting mouth. You plead to be able the touch him and he smiles and kisses you full of need. “Please touch me again baby” he moans wantonly. You needed to see him come. Your hands slid down his front and once again released him. You stroked him firmly, the head of his cock an even brighter red and was pouring pre come. He was close. Your lips lunged for his and you tugged his cock harder. His moans became louder, breathing harsher as he spurted hot and harsh against your bare stomach and pussy. Your hand was covered and his face was serene. This was way more delicious than a daydream.

———

You were both bashful as you helped each other dress. Cheeks flushing as he pulled up your panties and gently tugged your dress down, you’d stopped him from wiping his come away and his confidence sprouted back. “You want something to remember this by?” He jested. “You wish” you spat back, you both knew what he said held truth.

The bell sounded in the distance.

“Come on I’ll walk you back”, he tugged your hand putting you in front of him and nudged you towards the edge of the forest. Was it to put a barrier between you and those things? No, you wouldn’t delude yourself into thinking he cared. If he cared he’d of asked you out or something along those lines. Right?

You made it back in time. “This is me” you awkwardly shrugged. You both waited for the other to speak.

You broke the silence.

“Randall, look you don’t owe me anything I get it this was nothing. I won’t tell Laine and you can go back to persuing her”.

“Y/N, me and Laine are-“ he started

You cut him off. You couldn’t bare to hear it.

“I just needed a release from whatever weird tension we had, I get it seriously no need to explain”

He looked stunned and started to frown. But he quickly masked it with a careless gaze.

Your eyes narrowed, “thanks for walking me back I guess”

“Yeah yeah , anytime”

He turned to abruptly leave.

You wanted him to stay, your bed would bed would be so warm with him. The thought made your heart skip.

“Randall wait!”

He turned

“Get home safe”, you deflated as you were unable to ask him to stay. As if he’d want to.

His swagger returned, “Don’t worry about me too much sweetheart” he smirked.

He laughed at you rolling your eyes as he strolled away.

———

Why did him walking away hurt so much? Why did you feel like you knew him?

“Fuckkkkk”, you hissed as you slid down your door. Had you fucked him in college? No,no surely not you’d shamefully remembered every drunken fight and embarrassingly bad one night stand. Then how could you possibly know him? You didn’t know but it was almost certain he remembered and the one whiteclaw too many was the culprit as to your forgetting. How could you forget a connection like that it almost felt cosmic. God now you really sounded like a colony house hippy dippy idiot.

[kuntprodukt]

PINK CELLPHONE

Incel Leon S. Kennedy x OnlyFans reader | 18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, INCEST, smut, female reader, reader is a little bit mean, creampie, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, teasing, Leon is submissive, nipple play, tits sucking.

notes: uhm, i didnt proofread this so... i want to remind you that english isnt my first language :3 also i imagined re2 og Leon, but whatever! also reblogs and any kind of feedback is really appreciated

tags: @withonly-sweetheart

There was something fundamentally wrong with Leon in female’s gaze.

Maybe he is unlucky or those girls are blind. Really hoping it is the latter, cause it is not flattering when guys with migrated hairline can get cute girls, while he can’t. And 4chan doesn’t help either, those advices aren’t useful when he can’t even talk to a real girl.

Yes, they are blind. He is going to set on that.

So after many years of solitude, his only company has become the blue gleam which most night was the only source of light in the room, while air was full with low noises coming from the old, poor laptop. Trying to survive after years of not being turned off correctly. Multiple tabs on his laptop’s screen, he doesn’t bother to close them anymore, hoarding them like some kind of treasure - Leon doesn’t give a shit anymore.

This century is perfect for a man like Leon, internet may be the second Library of Alexandria. A real paradise, so much colorful and vibrant sites with cute girls showing their bodies if he pays for that content.

Thank god Onlyfans exists. And he is a nice guy, supporting cute and sexy girls.

Paying for limited content can be considered as supporting women, right? Even if he was motivated due to his selfish reasons - to get attention and limited content. Something special for him. It was embarrassing how long he could browse a fair share of accounts and get or even interact with some girls without being rejected and they would not know him. There are a lot of them, all cute and nice, and they acted even better when he tipped them, so they would interact more with him, calling him a ‘pretty boy’. At least it made him feel special for a while. Still, not his fault that their, too perfect, videos or photos led him to lose his interest - their content felt lifeless, without passion or love put in it. Boring. It has become a routine already, finding an account - jerking off until he loses his interest and the cycle returns to browsing the site for someone new to obsess over.

Your account was like a treasure when he found it. Leon got attracted to it like a magnet, comparable to find a needle in the haystack. Sweet thing, really sweet, if he was ever to interact with you he wouldn’t be able to hide his grimace. But that was attracting, he doesn’t know how much money he has spent on your content. Your face was always hidden or cut out by the position of your camera, but there was no need to see your face when people paid to jerk off.

It was nice while it lasted.

Pink cellphone. The little pink cellphone he got his sister, after she nagged him about wanting it, that ended up left alone and not used. You have this pink cellphone, the furniture and a lot of things were identical to his little sister’s room; posters of her favorite bands or that specific blanket she had all her life, but this was quickly brushed off at first, almost all girls like cute stuff and this could be a coincidence. Also that not the first thing a guy notices when he is ready to jerk off. Leon isn’t sure why after seeing that pink cellphone it clicked so quickly, the guilt and shame fill him to the brim, coiling around his neck like a loose invisible tie knot.

This is wrong, wrong like touching his sister’s breast. Your breast. Instead, he was jerking off to your boobs for months. Imagining how they would fill his palms nicely.

The room is the same as before, but now it hits different to be here after discovering what you have been doing here all this time. It has the same smell as always, sweet and too much like you, tightening the invisible knot around his neck. He wants to throw himself out of the window, this is sick and he doesn’t understand why his legs brought him here after work, still wearing his uniform. There are plenty of almost empty and few full bottles of perfume he had bought you during one of shopping trips, while you were nagging him and begging for them. He eyes such little and useless items that in any other situations he wouldn’t notice, avoiding to look at you. His efforts were useless, he is a weak man after all and there is nothing to do other than to stare at your frame; sitting on the bed, confused at his behavior and expecting something - a reason to explain why he is acting like that, staring at you, almost fucking you with his eyes. He doesn’t need Freud to tell him that he wants to fuck his own sister. Were you preparing to do new content for your followers? The thought made his pants tighter, wanting to pull at the fabric to ease it but this would only bring your attention, wouldn’t it? Maybe he wants it.

“You look like shit.”

“Excuse me?” Did he hear that right?

“You look like shit, Leon” you repeat before raising an eyebrow “stop staring, you are going to dig holes into my face. What do you want?”

What a bitch, he would say, but,

“Uhm…” is the only sound he was able to let out, getting closer to your bed and sitting down on the edge. You scoot closer to him as you always do. A sweet habit he always liked, sometimes you even hug him. “Not lady-like, sweetheart. I wanted to talk”

You roll your eyes. “About what?”

“A friend of mine, he sent me a link of a girl, doing porn” his lies flow so fast and easily from his mouth, trying to shift this to someone non existent. “Her face isn’t visible but… her room and she had a pink cellphone, identical to yours… so I was wondering—“

“Maybe you are imagining things. Many girls have similar room to mine” you cut him, your hand lays on his shoulder. Perhaps this is hell, hell would feel like you mock him by pretending that account isn’t you, like those moans he heard weren’t yours while a guy or a dildo was pleasing you, making Leon envious and sour - why not him? The corners of your lips tug up, something good got into your head. “So you are paying for that stuff, huh? Jerking off to a girl similar to your little sister, you are so weird”

“Huh? No, I am not” Yes, he is, that’s actually his favorite hobby.

“Cut the crap, Leon. There is no friend. You probably imagined me, yeah?” He did, he won’t deny this - it would be a lie leading to another rejection, this time by his sister - and he is man, a desperate one. Also poker has never been his strong point nor he can lie well with his hard on. “Nasty, nasty boy”

His blue eyes linger on your mouth as you spoke, watching your tongue rolled sensually and slowly. Your tongue clicks, before applying more pressure on his shoulder with your hand, pushing him down. He is like a rag doll under your touch - his back hits the softness of your bed and now all he can see is your face looking down at Leon before finally sliding on his lap. Your legs straddle his hips, so nicely pressing down on his crotch and making this much harder than it should be. His cock is already painfully hard, straining against the warmth of your pussy which can be felt through thin fabric of your shorts. God bless them. He bucks up his hips, as his hands reach to hold your hips and press them harder against his aching cock while he tries to dryhump you needy - too bad that’s not on your list, slapping away his hands like it is a disturbance which makes him frown.

“Ah-ah, big bro. Don’t touch me” you purr as your head dips lower to press hot heated kiss on the skin of his neck, leaving soft bites and wet trail behind whilst your tongue traces around those bites, like a soothing touch before it starts going up down and up in torturous motions. Until you stop on his Adam’s apple to bite it softly to leave a red spot, your hands dive under his shirt, pushing it up to expose his stomach and making it easier to reach his chest - fingertips brush against his nipples, before rolling and pinch them to force more moans from him. A grown man getting already painfully hot and bothered over little touches and kisses there and then, this causes you to chuckle under your breath - don’t want to hear him complain how you hurt his ego. Man’s ego is more fragile than soap bubbles or the glass, one poke and he would not shut up and fuck your brain instead of your pussy. That won’t do. Your eyes dart up to look into his face - to see that sweet and needy expression, begging more than just teasing caresses from you. Your hips sit so well against his, sometimes creating some friction when one of you move and it feels like he is going to die if his dick won’t be buried in your pussy any time soon.

“I don’t like dirty hands on me” you add eventually with the same purring voice. What can be better than a man being submissive and shattering over nothing?

“Can you just… oh shit!” his sentence gets cut abruptly, when your lips reach to his earlobe, nibbling playfully and it would be really humiliating if he cum here cause of how his ears are sensible. Deep inhale, before speaking again, trying to keep himself at check and not to be so meek while you keep rolling his sensitive nipples in between your fingers. His next words are breathless and voice is shaky, almost at the edge to sound pathetically. Not really manly, but still your clit throbs, only now noticing how your panties are soaked now, uncomfortably clinging to your pussy lips. “…fuck me?”

You stop your assault over the skin of his neck to look down at him better, your hips press against his hard dick forcing a breathless whimper to escape. This little plea, he begs. Your clit throbs again, so uncomfortably wet, you want to dryhump him until he cum in his jeans like a virgin. Instead, he is one. If he was any other men you wouldn’t consider this good enough to comply but the sight in front of you is too much to ignore.

“Fuck.. you?” You echo his words, feigning a confusion, your eyes widen to emphasize the act. A cheap one, cause your hand already tugged down your shorts, leaving you in panties, he has seen them so many time on those videos and photos, his hips buck to press himself to your, still, clothed pussy. His attempt isn’t really successful, your hand unzips his jeans to free his cock. And finally to look at it. “you are so weird… I dunno, to ask that from me, don’t you have any shame in this body of yours, huh?”

“I don’t give a shit, just fuck me” he groans, looking down as you palm his cock, it twitches in your hand, already leaking with pre-cum and you can even notice a little stain on his boxers.

A light urge to roll your eyes arises deep down when you looked down, but it was quickly put down. Rather disappointing as a size, if someone would have asked you, but not everyone can have porno dick or customized one. You can still fuck with that. Leon swallows hard, taking a deep breath in again as he looked at you briefly - your tits are more interesting right now. He hopes you let him to suck on them. His fingers twitch, wanting to reach for your panties and tug to the side, to fuck you, but he is a gentleman. A nice guy.

Your hand pumps his dick, smearing his pre-cum along the flesh before tugging your panties to the side, your glistening pussy is fully exposed to his gaze and Leon almost choked on his saliva when you pressed your slick cunt on his cock. It is a torturous game, feeling you rub slowly along his aching length leading to drip more of pre-cum. You are so wet and warm, your slick coats his dick with every stroke of your pussy against it. This makes his eyes widen briefly at the sensation, he isn’t sure if he would be able to last long inside you. If it ever gets to that, of course.

“Please..?” Leon groans, bucking his hips to get more and press himself tighter for more friction than it is even possible right now. His sounds only encourage you to mess with him.

“What? I don’t understand” you taunt him with a light pout, another long and slow stroke, his cock’s tip was so close to slide into you. “Use your big-big words, Leon”

Your pussy kept grinding, enjoying the way his cock head bumps against your clit and making you wetter, forcing some noises from you too. Your fingers tug on his lower lip playfully - just to tease and annoy him. But he doesn’t let you withdraw your hand by grabbing hold of it. His lips catch your finger, sucking and nipping on it.

“Use me… please” like one of yours sex toys, Leon wanted to add, but, alas his dignity was still in tact, holding barely together by the tiniest thread. And as much as you want him to cum without even a penetration, to embarrass him, your own selfish urge to fuck him is much stronger.

“What a pretty face you have, right, big bro?” Also it is hard to ignore such sight in front of you, with blushed cheeks, his chest raises heavily as he let out breathless groans. “Pretty and pathetic, you would be a perfect sex doll”

Your wet slit kept rubbing, but this time savoring with the last stroke, before finally hovering over his cock - feeling his leaky tip nudging against your slick hole, begging to sink down, before his cock finally slides into you. He watched how your pussy swallowed his cock slowly inch by inch, before Leon thrusts up to meet your downward movement, forcing yours to slam against his, quickly burying himself as deep as he can right now. You moan at the rough motion, now ignoring how his hands reach to grip tightly your waist, not really caring anymore and now nothing stops him by touching you. Your slick inner walls wrap around his cock nicely, tightly clenching and he doesn’t think twice before bucking his hips again as yours started to roll against his - driving him deeper into your soaked hole. His dick hits the g-spot so sweetly, making you gasp and moan with him. His teeth catch the fabric of your shirt, trying to tug it down and expose your boobs to him - and you are nice enough to help him by pulling it aside, a clear permission to bury his face in between them. Sloppily kissing and biting on the flesh of your tits, while you are bouncing on his dick. His lips repeat your name as a prayer, catching a hard nipple into his mouth, his tongue brushes and rolls against the sensitive nub - sucking at it, nibbling messily and leaving wet marks before darting to give attention to another nipple, causing your pussy to flutter around his dick more, tightly engulfing deeper into the slick walls as the wet sounds mix with the skin slapping ones every time your hips meet after every deep and quick stroke that his cock drag against your walls.

“I-I want to fill you with my cum, please”his voice is breathless at the edge of whine even though he tries his best to not appear so desperate, but the plea behind his words is clear. His grip gets tighter, his fingers knead your ass as he grinds his dick against your cervix to intensify the pleasure for himself while his pelvis rubs against your clit as a nice touch. He really hopes you wouldn’t try to be a bitch and let him cum, if not then he is probably going to cry. “Please, please, let me cum… I need this, sis”

“You sound so fucking ridiculous” your voice is breathless too, but seeing him so needy and desperate for his release making this even better. Your hand tugs his hair, pulling away from your tits to look at his face even better - his lips are glistening with his own saliva and parted. Your clit throbs even more, aching for attention, velvety walls clench around him when you reach down to press your fingers on your clit, rubbing rough circles. “Come on, fill your little sister if you need this so much”

He whimpers disappointedly when he was pulled away from your sensitive and abused tits, but it was quickly changed into a moan when your pussy to wrap him tighter after adding your fingers in action. Your hips roll harder to meet his thrusts and wanting to see more of his stupid faces. Leon grinds up against sweet spot at every opportunity and every time it gets messier and messier as his balls tightens. His eyes slide shut briefly, now wetly meeting yours and looking more pathetic. What a freak, not like you are better than him.

Your orgasm approaches quickly as you kept rubbing your clit in rough circle motions, making your walls wrap harder around his cock. You arch as the flowing pleasure hits your body hard, having harder time to use your fingers to prolong your orgasm. Your pussy flutters at every erratic and messy thrust he kept making as he chase his own orgasm. It didn’t last long for him either, already a wonder he didn’t cum after sliding into you.

“Fuck- fuck” he slammed in to the hilt one final time, burying it deep and rubbing against your cervix before finally erupting deep inside you. Thick ropes of cum painted your insides in white, as your dripping cunt was milking his cock. Your body fell down against his chest, breathing heavily together and shivering.

“You stink like a wet dog, get out” you complain weakly, trying to push yourself away from him but it is effortless - he buries his head in the crook of your neck, again. His soft cock is still inside you, he won’t let you go. “and unsubscribe from my OnlyFans, creep”

“Later” Leon mumbles absently.

No, he is not even going to unsubscribe. In another life.

[polarisjisung]

TRACK 505 — STILL INTO YOU

08 — FEELING DELIRIOUS

prev | masterlist | next

WARNINGS | swearing, sexual innuendos, kys/kms jokes mentions of alcohol

NOTES | not proof read 🧍‍♀️so if you see any typos no you didn't (yes you did pls tell me!!) also not fully certain this makes sense but I live in blissful ignorance 🙂‍↕️

-

Ignore it. That's all you wanted to do, to ignore it. You watched as your phone buzzed against the nightstand, once, twice, three times.

The fourth never came, but Mark's voice across the line did, and it came before you even had time to regret your decision.

Mark's voice was a lot of things, familiar, comforting, nostalgic, but above all, warm. Mark's voice was awfully warm, not the sharp professional voice he'd used in those meetings, not the light playful Mark you'd joke with before, but gentle, honest.

His words however, were anything but.

He was saying everything you’d spent the past two years trying not to think about.

Mark's voice came soft, but fast, half thoughts, half laughs, spilling over each other, like his words were loosened by something, his mind left to run free.

And for a moment, you forgot to breathe. His words settled in, the slow ache of nostalgia mixed with something that cracked through the walls you’d spent so long building.

You couldn't help but grip your phone tighter, as if you could hold onto it all, the moment, the memories.

You didn't need to see Mark to know he was drunk, the slurring of his speech, the distant but still chaotic hum of voices behind him, a sight you could picture too easily. The same noise, the same energy you used to live in. It was obvious.

Though Mark barely seemed aware of just how much you'd managed to piece together, too caught up in whatever half drunk train of thought had led him to calling you.

You had no choice but to listen, with his non-stop rambling, he was barely taking any time to breathe, classic Mark.

So you sunk deeper into the pillows behind you, listening as his voice spilled through the speaker, unfiltered, familiar and threading through the quiet of your bedroom like it belonged there. You didn't interrupt.

Though Mark realised your silence soon enough, cutting himself off mid sentence.

“You’re actually listening to me. That’s crazy.”

You let out a quiet laugh, your now glossy eyes stuck on the ceiling. “You’re not giving me much of a choice.”

“Thats fair.” You swear he sounds half asleep, but before you can question it, Mark begins again, the same reminiscent talk and raw emotion flooding through the silence once again.

“You know... I was thinking, it’s been a while since we had one of our late night talks. I miss that, you know?”

You chuckle, “Drunk Mark's awfully sentimental.”

“Let me finish y/n, because sober Mark would say the same thing.”

You have no reason not to believe him, so you offer a quiet hum in response and he continues.

“I miss it. Not just you—but us. Everything. I miss the sound of you laughing over something stupid, the way we'd all crowd around the dinner table, arguing about the dumbest stuff like it was life or death.”

You let his words sink in, feeling the weight of them pull at something buried deep in your chest. Something you'd like to keep buried.

“I guess it’s–” He hesitates, then comes the sound of him shifting on the other end, you suppose running a hand through his hair in classic Mark fashion. “I guess it’s a little stupid of me to be saying this now, huh?”

You let out a soft sigh. "Yeah, a bit." But your voice is softer than either of you had expected, betraying almost.

“I just–” He cuts himself off, then tries again, his voice much quieter. “I just thought you’d come back, you know? Not even for the band, but for us, for all the stupid stuff we used to do together. I thought we could find a way back to that.”

You don't respond.

Mark exhales. “It doesn’t feel the same without you.” He pauses, waiting for you to respond perhaps, but when you don't, “We aren't the same without you y/n, we need you.”

You don't respond again. Mark takes it as cue to continue, rambling for at least another 5 minutes.

You really wish he didn't.

“I should probably shut up, but I miss you. We all do.”

The silence stretches a little longer than you'd like to admit. And then, you speak. “Mark?”

He breathes out a response. “Yeah?”

“You don't get to say that. Not now.”

He sighs, “I know.” then, when you don't respond, again, he speaks, “But you didn’t say I was wrong.”

“Go to sleep Mark.”

You end the call, but the conversation doesn’t end with it. It lingers, replaying in your head, each word settling into the quiet of your room.

You shut your eyes, willing yourself to push it down, to bury it deep where it can’t reach you. And this time, you mean it. No more looking back, no more lingering in the past. This is it. You’re done. It's the right choice, the obvious one.

And you think that maybe in the morning, it’ll feel final, that you’ll wake up and the weight of this will all be gone.

Still, you tell yourself you’ll sleep on it. Except—you can’t. You can't sleep on it, can’t sleep over it, under it. You can’t sleep at all.

tags: @sinisxtea @nanawrlds @f6llsun @karlitava @dudekiss3r @kaosuni @ayukas @soo-sh1 @flaminghotyourmom @jenobubbles @sibwol @n0hyuck @blossominghunnie @i03jae @rikufan3000 @chenlezip @awktwurtle @cookiehaos @thatsatricky1 @nctdreamchaser @jae-n0 @blondiedae @17ericas @lotties-readings @yizhrt @gomdoleemyson @jwisteroid7 @nctrawberries @t-102 @dilflover44 @saranghoeforanton @lvsdoyo @holyhaech @minkieater @iluvkyo @desssss-0 @jenocity23 (comment/send an ask to be added !)

[juniperdugong]

Creature Double Feature - S.coups

fluff - wc, 902

idol!scoups x gn!reader

NOT PROOFREAD

You and Seungcheol have been dating for just about 3 months now. Although, with his job occupying an annoying amount of his time it's felt more like 1 month. The upside to this though is that you are still in the midst of your cutesy honeymoon phase.

Getting embarrassed of quick kisses and still feeling nervous when holding hands. Sure you hadn't been physical, you hadn't even spent a night at his place, but the pace never seemed to bother Seungcheol so it never bothered you.

In fact, you hadn't even begun to think about all of this... until tonight.

One of your coveted movie date nights with Cheol. He'd go to your place or you'd go to his, it'd take you guys forever to pick a movie, once you did you would snuggle up against each other, and at the end of the night, you would part ways with a kiss. That's how it was; how it always was.

Tonight was special, it would be the last night you were able to spend together before Cheol headed off to Japan for tour and subsequently, he would be missing your 4-month anniversary. You've told him that he doesn't need to celebrate every little milestone but he insists that they're all important. And although he's never told you outright it also gives him a chance to show how much you mean to him amongst his schedule which gets busier and busier.

So, in solemn early celebration, it was a creature double feature! Aka, you both agreed on watching Monsters Inc. and Monsters University back to back. A decision partially made off of an argument of which film was better.

Now, halfway through Monsters University, your eyes began to droop. Currently splayed out like a blanket on top of Cheol, your head resting on his chest. The rhythmic beat of his heart setting the tempo for a lullaby in which the lyrics were whatever Mike and Sulli were saying on screen.

"Hey, you okay?" Cheol's voice cuts the melody.

"Hmm?" Eyes heavy you look up and see a concerned but loving smile on his face.

"You haven't said anything in 15 minutes, you always have something to say when we're watching a movie."

"Sorry, I'm just getting a bit sleepy." A yawn escapes you mid-sentence which in turn makes Seungcheol yawn, a testament to your closeness.

"We can stop for tonight, I'll bring you back to-"

"It's okay, Cheol..." You dig your face deeper into his chest, borderline motor-boating the man.

"Babe?" he's looking at you in confusion as you cling to his body tighter.

"Yes?"

"I can take you home-"

"Just a few more minutes like this, Cheolie..." Your voice drags out in exhaustion. He pats your head in silent agreement. As you drift all those thoughts come to mind, and embarrassment rises in you, but the hand on your head gives you solace. This was the perfect pace for the 2 of you.

10 minutes later and you're fully passed out. A light snore alerts Cheol to your state and he chuckles to himself, adjusting the blanket to fall on top of both of you. His hand goes to rest on the small of your back and subconsciously he matches his breathing to yours.

He just stares at your sleeping figure in complete adoration and contentment, cursing the tour for stripping moments like this away from him for a few weeks. He knows just how lucky he is to have someone willing to put up with his job and schedule, to have someone who doesn't mind his absence, and here in this moment, seeing you completely peaceful, he knows how lucky he is to have you.

You wake up to the sound of upbeat band music as the credits roll in. You're slow to realize where you are and it's only when you hear a deep groan that you remember that you're still at Seungcheol's place. Groggily looking up you see him knocked out, arms still cradling you, trapping you to his chest.

Any movement you make is met by a discomforted murmur as Cheol continues to hold you close. You lose the fight rather quickly, knowing that as long as he's asleep he's not letting you go anywhere. So you lay your head back down and let sleep take you again, a smile rising on both you and Cheol's lips in complete domestic bliss. Your first official night together; something you'll put together later and it'll make both of you blush.

--7 hours later--

A loud banging on the front door wakes Cheol.

"Oh my god, my fucking flight!" He's in a sudden state of panic as his hands roam around your bodies for his phone. 27 messages and 10 missed calls from his manager. "Shit shit shit-"

He tries to move but the weight of your body on his stops him in his tracks. For just a minute he completely relaxes seeing you still sound asleep despite his volume. "I love you." he whispers placing a peck on your forehead. He knows you won't hear him and it's probably too soon for him to tell you this but he's certain his feelings are true.

Plus, it's the small thing he does moments before pushing you off of him to get his things ready. (Don't worry, he'll pepper your face in kisses until the moment his feet are out the door.)

{If you're interested in being on the Taglist for my Seventeen works please let me know!! Requests are open!}

{A/N: A little something while I work on Perfection and the angst Cheol fic that y'all voted on. Please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed. Have a nice week lovelies!!}

[mujeans]

MY ONLY LOVE, MY ONLY ONE ✦ LCY

SYNOPSIS ✦ you and anton’s relationship through the years - because maybe not all love has to be young.

“if we’re both still single by the time we’re thirty , let’s get married.”

TAGS ✦ anton x f!reader, one-shot, angst, fluff, non-idol au, yn has mommy issues, slice of life, bffs to lovers, slow-burn

WARNINGS ✦ mentions of drinking at a bar, reader isn't really referred to as y/n or _, just "you" 😭

WC ✦ 4k

PLAYLIST ✦ only by leehi, still into you by paramore, every summertime by niki, toothbrush by dnce, bad by wavetoearth

AUTHOR'S CORNER ✦ was originally meant for heeseung, but i changed it lolz also ik i said i'd post it in a few days but i finished it early and wanted to put it out so i hope u enjoy!

13

snobby, proud, self-centered - these were the words that described anton's first impression of you.

he'd just moved to town, tagging along with his parents to the local mall when his mother stopped in her tracks, causing him to nearly walk into her. he looked at her confusedly when she suddenly gasped, and squealed someone's name, before she practically ran up to another woman, who he'd soon find out to be your own mother.

"guys, this is my old friend from college," she'd told him and his dad. "and this is her daughter," she said as she gestured to you.

you'd been few inches taller than him, so he was intimidated by you and immediately got the impression you were looking down on him. (well, you were, literally.)

"why don't you two kids go to the arcade? here, my daughter has a game card," your mother spoke as she ushered you two away whilst the adults went somewhere else to catch up. anton and you awkwardly stood next to each other as the parents left you two alone.

once they were out of sight, you seemed to deflate; the intimidating aura wiped and replaced by a more relaxed and amicable ‘you’. somehow, you felt more human, and he let out his own steady breath when you smiled and held out your hand for him to shake.

“sorry, my mother can be a lot to handle. you play DDR?”

turns out, you were way more fun when your mother wasn’t around.

16

holding hands was something you two did often.

your friends would often tease you two about it, but neither you nor anton thought much of it. it was completely platonic, right?

but nonetheless, you two were relentlessly asked if you were dating, even when one or the other was in a relationship with someone else. in fact, your closeness had led to your first and most recent boyfriend breaking up with you.

"can you believe it? everyone knows we're literally just friends," you ranted to anton later that night. "so what if we're close? he himself had his own girl best friend - several in fact!"

anton hummed to let you know he was listening, busy working on an assignment that he'd spent far too long procrastinating.

"i mean, how insecure can he be? is it really that unbelievable for a boy and a girl to have a completely platonic relationship?" you paced around his room, not caring whether or not he was listening. you just needed to get the day's frustrations out - and where better than anton's comfy and personalised room?

something about the hanging leaves, band posters, the warm lamp in the corner lighting up the room, it was your favourite place to hide when your mother would be in another one of her moods.

"i'm never going to date again. ugh."

"you sure about that?" anton half-heartedly asked.

"yes. if i have to sacrifice our friendship to kiss some guy, then no thanks."

anton turned to you with a smile playing at his lips. he didn't take you seriously at all.

"anton..." you whined. this wasn't funny to you.

"sorry, sorry," he said, but you could still hear the laugh in his voice. instead, he took your hands in his apologetically, the warmth a familiar gesture.

"if you never date again, then i won't either."

"anton, you've never dated."

"well, it's like you said. if i have to sacrifice our friendship to kiss some girl, then it's a no for me too."

he stared at you sincerely. you guys knew you both would probably still go on to date other people, but the promise felt real anyway. what with the way he was staring up at you.

"swearing yourself to celibacy for me? how sweet," you relented, sitting down on his bed, your hands still clasped in his.

suddenly, an idea popped into your head.

using your linked hands to pull him closer, his chair rolled over, knocking against your knees.

"anton, let's make a pact: if we're still both single by the time we're thirty, then let's get married."

18

graduation came faster than anton expected, and he only realises then that he's known you for five years now.

as expected, you and him had taken lots of photos together (wait, when did he get taller than you?), and eventually your families decided to dine together at some fancy restaurant after the ceremony. it a celebration of the two of you leaving high school, and moving onto the next chapter of your lives: university. something you were particularly stressed about.

"why is applying for uni so hard?? i'm just a girl - just accept me!"

anton could empathise with that sentiment - he'd been an exceptional student, yet his lack of curriculars had ended him up on three waitlists, and with one rejection. not to mention how complicated the process was, what with all the different requirements for every university. honestly, he felt like he'd been lied to by all those people telling him not to worry.

looking over at the parents busy in conversation, he noticed that the both of you had finished your meals already.

"can we go? i'm gonna take her out for a drive," he asked them, gesturing to you.

surprised by the sudden plan, you looked to your parents for approval.

"aren't you going to stay for desserts?" your dad asked.

"i'm sure we'll find something sweet on the way," anton replied simply.

"well, i'm okay with it," your dad agreed, looking at anton's parents who nodded back.

you watched him turn to your mother, a silent argument spoken through their eyes. she reluctantly sighs, a sign of surrender, and you cheered on the inside as anton pulled you away and out of the restaurant.

going for drives was something you and anton always did when either was stressed or upset. windows down and music blared as the sky turned an array of colours, it really felt like the movies in moments like this. you sighed contentedly, head propped up on your elbow as you stared outside. the wind combined with ONLY by LeeHi being the only sounds between you and anton.

"ah, i'm not sure if i can do this whole university thing," you confessed your thoughts. "if applying is already this hard, i can't imagine the real thing."

"it won't be this bad. c'mon, we'll be together, right?" anton's voice replied.

"always."

silence engulfed the two of you again.

"i want to do something crazy. something that'll make her mad."

"yeah? any ideas for this crazy plan of yours?"

"hmm... what about..." you trailed off, thinking for a while.

"what about a month-long trip around europe?"

anton's head snapped to you, eyebrows reaching his hairline.

"seriously? she'll actually lose it."

"not that she already hasn't already done so several times before," you grumbled into your elbow. "besides, i'm always sticking to her stupid rules. i just want to do something 'rebellious' before we get thrown back into classes and assignments and homeworks and blah blah blah..."

a pause. then, “let's do it. where do you want to start?"

"really? you'll do it with me?" you perk up, finally looking at him.

"duh," he rolls his eyes, as if you ever leaving him alone was such an unimaginable thought. "let's figure out those visas first though," he added as an afterthought.

19

2 Notifications yn : you free later this week? yn : feels like i haven't seen u in forever

anton sees the notifications later that night, and sighs as he pushes his hair out of his eyes. he takes a quick look at his monthly calendar.

to be truthful, the two of you had been swamped with finals and work this past semester, so you hadn’t been able to hang out as often as you used to.

seeing that the next part of his coursework wasn't due until next saturday, he decided he had just enough time.

anton: what about tmrw? 12pm at café bleu

"i was thinking..." you started. "what if we do another month-long trip this summer? like we did last year.”

anton grunted at the thought.

"honestly, i've stayed up countless nights this sem for this stupid assignment. i wanted to catch up on sleep thus summer.” i don't think i really have the time for another trip.

"oh. that's okay! we're both going back home anyway, so i'll just come over to yours like always."

"sure, if you want to watch me sleep all day."

but the way he said that - it was a clear no. he didn't have the time, not when he was going to spend all summer trying to catch up on missed sleep.

"never mind, then."

the waitress placed your orders in front of you, and the two of you began to eat in terse silence.

looking at him closely, you notice the darkened eyebags, the pale skin, the way he hadn't even bothered to wear a nice outfit. anton had been pretty cold towards you lately, and he felt guilty, but he couldn't help it. stress was a bully everyone was a victim of.

seeing the way your demeanour seemed to shrink, he was hit with a wave of shame and regret, and took hold of your hand.

"hey, remember that show we watched in senior year? it has a prequel movie coming out soon. we should watch it together."

you perked up immediately. "really? when?"

"november, i think."

he frowned when you faltered, but then you said something that completely sent his heart to the ground.

"i can’t. anton, i'm going on a study exchange programme."

19

talking to jake was easy. talking to him was nice.

in the three months since jake arrived from australia, anton and him had quickly become good friends, (although he would never be able to replace you). so of course he's sad that the exchange programme was coming to an end soon, and jake would have to leave for home.

however, that meant you'd be coming back too, and he was far more excited about that. the past three months had felt empty without you, even if you were a bit absent from his life for some time before the programme started.

so anton finds himself at café bleu in the same spot you'd told him about your plans, but this time with jake on the other side.

"we'll stay in touch though, yeah?" jake assured him. "i'll definitely come visit some time, this place is really great."

"i'll be looking forward to it."

"i think you're more looking forward to me leaving though, aye? what with your friend coming back too."

at the mention of you, anton couldn't stop the smile from spreading on his face. he really did miss you.

"yeah, she's my rock. always there for me - well, except for these past three months. hopefully you'll get to meet her when you visit."

"i'd love to meet the girl you've been talking about this whole time!"

"you'd get along well," anton nodded, imagining the three of you sharing a slice of cake at this very café. "hey, why don't i call her right now, and you can meet her? although it's just online."

jake nodded eagerly, "why not?"

pulling up his phone, anton quickly swiped to the favourites tab on his contacts app, and called you. after just two rings, you pick up.

"hey! what's up?" your voice greets him, bringing an instant smile to his face.

"nothing much, just wanted to introduce you to jake - he's the student who came in your place as part of the exchange programme," he introduced the guy, turning on his camera.

"oh, hi!" he hears you say after he turns the screen to face the other.

"hi! nice to finally meet you. hope australia treated you well,” jake starts smoothly.

"trust me, it has. everyone so nice and welcoming, i just love it here."

"sounds like you've settled in nicely, i'm almost sorry you'll have to pack up and leave again. but hey, you'll be back home and reunited with this guy, right?" jake laughed.

"well... about that."

anton knew something was up - your voice had that same tone as when you dropped the bomb that was you leaving for the next three months. just before you said your next line, anton felt his heart sink again like it did the first time.

"i've decided to transfer here.

"anton, i'm staying in australia."

22

once again, anton finds himself in a graduation gown. but for the first time, you're not at his side.

looking at the photos his mother took of him on her phone, he couldn't help but feel a little upset by the lack of you next to him. for the past nine years, he's never had much solo photos; you were always with him, sharing these moments.

but this time 'round, he's completely alone, and your friendship has devolved to instagram mutuals, reduced to liking each other's posts and reacting to stories. the thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

surprisingly, your mother still came to watch him graduate, even if he was only ever just her friend's son.

"oh, anton. you've grown so much since i first met you."

"thank you, auntie," he says awkwardly.

"you know, i miss the two of you. my daughter's all the way in another country, so i barely see you anymore..." she trails off in thought. in the past few years since you left, she seemed to soften up in your absence, no doubt missing you despite the strained relationship between the two of you when you left.

"oh! have you seen the photos? she just graduated herself last week," she fished for her phone in her bag, and began to swipe through her camera roll to show him.

"i wish i could've been there, but i'm not sure she would've wanted that. she's lucky her dad attended instead."

anton shakes his head. "not true, i'm sure she would've wanted you there."

but he wasn’t sure. have your feelings about your mother changed? or were you still upset with her? he doesn’t know. he hasn’t known much about you in a long time.

"i guess we'll never know, will we?"

swiping through more photos, anton's eye caught onto a few of them, where you were standing particularly close to another guy.

"auntie, who's this?"

"ah, him? why, that's her boyfriend, of course." she then turned to look at him oddly. "hasn't she told you?"

he frowned, and shook his head. he's a little off put by the fact that you didn't bother telling him, but then again. you two haven't exactly been friends in a very long time.

and just like that, memories of a pact resurface in his head. it was never going to come true, wasn't it? but if you ended up marrying this guy, anton could never bring himself to watch.

the sound of his friends' voices brought him back to reality. "hey, anton! come over here-" and he forced himself to shake off the thoughts, joining the group instead.

24

anton had been learning to live life without you for the past four or five years now. he had a new friend group, a nice job in the city, his own apartment, all without his best friend. it was hard to unlearn all the mannerisms he didn't even realise he had for you, not until he would get home from the grocery and realise he bought two boxes of sushi like you used to share, or when he'd almost bought a second, folding mattress for when you'd come over for a sleepover, or even just holding an extra hair tie or two on his wrist in case you needed one.

and that was all in the past now, he's finally began to move on from mourning the loss of your friendship. he only thinks about you once in a blue moon, and his life feels like it's no longer on pause.

but you were always cruel to him.

"wait, what?"

right when he'd begun to move on, you came back.

anton stared at you in shock; when he heard the doorbell ring that day, he'd never have expected you to be on the other side. an intelligent 'wait, what?' was all he could muster when he finally registered just what, or who he was seeing.

"hi," you say in that familiar voice of yours. and you almost sound out of breath, although its clear you hadn't run there.

he finally lets you in after a moment, and you explain how you're moving back, and starting at a local company. you tell him about life back in australia, the friends and experiences you made. you tell him about the past five years of your life as if it was just any normal day after high school.

as if you hadn't just completely left him on his own, his other half gone with you.

although the conversation is stilted and awkward, and theres a gap between you that feels wider than the distance between australia and home, anton's still glad to see you. it almost feels unreal, and he wouldn't believe any of this was real if he couldn't feel your weight pushing down on the sofa, or the very essence of you in his living room.

you and anton agree to get coffee some time after you've settled back in, and he asks if you need any help.

"yes, please! its like i brought my whole life from australia back with me, what with all the boxes i need to unpack."

and so, leaning against the door frame, anton watches you walk away again, catching himself wondering if it would be the last time he'd see you again in a while. he had to keep reminding himself that you were back for good.

"oh, and me and my boyfriend broke up."

anton sucks in a breath, and slips his hands in his pocket to hide the shaking. he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel - angry? relieved? sorry? anton hasn't known how to feel in years.

"just wanted you to know," you spoke into the air, after you received no response from him.

so with an awkward wave, you leave him once again, with a promise to see each other soon.

27

"happy birthday!" people greet as they enter the bar, giving anton a quick hug.

"thank you," he smiles back. "wow, twenty-seven. i feel so old."

"twenty-seven isn't that old," you tell him, hugging him from behind as a surprise. he chuckles and holds onto your arms clasped around his middle for a bit before letting you go sit across him.

"think about it, we've been friends for longer than we haven't!"

"including those four or five years we barely spoke?" you raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip from your glass.

"shh, what years? we've always been as thick as thieves," anton grins, pinching your cheek.

after you moved back, it didn't take that long to rekindle your previous relationship. somehow, you two picked up right where you left off, like there was never a period in your friendship filled with almost radio silence.

"you two," eunseok sighed with an exasperated but fond tone. "if i didn't know you guys were 'just friends', i would've thought you were dating."

"or married!" sohee shouts from somewhere.

you roll your eyes at your friends and coworkers, the guests. dating allegation were nothing new in your relationship, having suffered from them for over ten years now.

"we have been friends for a while now, huh? fourteen years is pretty crazy."

"i honestly can't remember a time when i didn't know you," anton agrees.

"being 'friends' for longer than you haven't is quite the achievement," wonbin remarks with a knowing look. "personally, i don't have toothbrushes and extra clothes at my house for my friends though."

all this talk of friends and friendship was making your head hurt.

"anton, remember the pact we made at sixteen?"

anton looked at you sharply, knowing exactly what you were referring to, but asking anyway. "no. remind me again?"

with a scoff and a smile, you said, without regard to the fact that everyone was half-listening, "when we promised we'd marry each other by thirty if we were both still single?"

clinks of glass and utensils falling around the two of you, your friends were suddenly more invested in the conversation, not even trying to hide their curiosity.

"you really want to talk about this right now? in front of everyone?" anton murmured, voice low enough just for you to hear.

you stared at him, and then continued.

"well, looks like there's three years left to our promise. three years left to run away from me." that pulled out some laughs.

anton just stared at you with a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

"well, i haven't run away for these last eleven years since, have i?"

whoops and cheers filled the bar; you yourself were surprised with anton's boldness and honesty. you always did wonder why he barely ever dated, only ever having a few flings here and there.

suddenly, you felt a little flustered by his bold declaration, and the implication that he'll wait out the remaining years.

"i..."

suddenly, anton's face morphed into a smirk as he took another sip from his own glass, eyes still on you.

"what's another three years?"

30

"ah, my mom keeps asking when i'm going to settle down," you whine to anton, sitting in his living room as you two share a late midnight snack.

something about it all feels nostalgic, whining and complaining about your mom to him, sitting in his comfy room (or this time, his apartment), with a vinyl record playing in the background. this is home, you decided.

what you don't tell him is that your mom had been more specific with her words.

(when are you and anton going to get married and settle down?? i want grandkids, you know!)

anton laughs lightly, feeding you another sushi. the whole atmosphere was quite domestic, and you wished you could spend the rest of your life like this; with him.

"some things never change, do they?" he remarks with a fond smile. and your heart melts a little.

(hopefully soon, mama.)

"isn't sushi a little heavy for a midnight snack?"

"well, it's not just any midnight, isn't it?" anton asks.

and he's right. it's actually a special one - the night before your birthday.

looking at the clock, you see that it's almost twelve, and you find yourself thinking back on the past twenty-nine years. anton's in most of the memories, something you weren't particularly bothered about. when you two spent that day at the arcade together, something about it all just felt right.

you've always loved change, always wanted more experiences. but one thing you wanted to stay the same forever, was anton being by your side. when you'd gone to australia, it was a slow realisation that some part of you was missing. only when you reunited with anton did you realise why that was.

the soft beeping noise of a clock brought you back from your thoughts, signalling that it was finally twelve o'clock. that you were finally thirty. hearing shuffling behind you, you turn to look at anton for the annual hug and cheer that made your whole birthday.

but instead, you watched in shock as anton sunk onto one knee, and pulled out a box.

"don't look so surprised, now," he chuckles awkwardly. "this was a long time coming."

"i know... i just. i didn't expect you'd do it as soon as i turned thirty," you laughed. "looks like someone couldn't wait any longer."

"can you blame a man who waited fourteen years?"

you shook your head before anton called our your name, even though he already had your full attention.

"my only love, i don't have to hide my feelings anymore. i love you."

with a deep breath, filled with years and years of longing, he finally asked.

"will you marry me?"

TAGLIST ✦ @yoursyuno @totheseok

[writtenbyan-aries]

The people wanted Colby angst & the people are getting Colby angst.

Summary: After a long, on and off, secret relationship with Colby, reader finally has had enough, or have they?

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, angst, kinda sad, arguing/fighting, mentions of alcohol, flirting, reader is the lead singer in a rock band, slight mentions of depression/anxiety, hair pulling, biting, scratching, choking, unprotected shower make up sex, filth

Word count: 6.8K | NOT edited

Inspired by the song, The Grey by Bad Omens. I will also be using a few of their other songs, so if you haven't listened to them, you definitely should. Noah Sebastian is chefs kiss 💋

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

The relationship you had with Colby was the first relationship you kept going back to.

You knew he was bad for you, mainly because it felt like he was holding you back more than pushing you forward, but you loved him with everything you had in you.

When you were together, just the two of you, it was pure bliss. Like seeing love through rose colored lenses.

But it never failed to change with each launch party of a new album or even an after party for playing at a sold out show.

Colby couldn't contain his jealously, but yet, he's the one who wanted to keep your guy's relationship secret in the first place.

He didn't want the lime light, he wanted to have you all to himself, but he failed to realize that with your career growing, so would your popularity grew with it.

You broke up for a while, spent a few weeks apart. You worked on your new album some more. Colby hung out with Sam, investigating the paranormal some more.

You and Sam were good friends, so around the time Sam told you they'd be back, you got that, can we talk? text from Colby, and ever since then, you've been better than ever.

You agreed to understand him wanting to stay out of the spot light, so in public you were friends usually have dinner with other friends, but when it came to your band, they knew which meant you could kiss each other in front of them and they wouldn't bat an eye.

He's come to your studio sessions. Sat up until three am with you while you wrote down and hummed to random song lyrics. He's even been front row at sound checks.

He's become an even bigger number one fan and you absolutely loved it.

Things seemed to be going in the right direction for a while, and you were thinking about talking to him again about going public, mainly because you wanted more from him.

More with him.

You thought that since your relationship was in such a good place and haven't called it quits for the sixth time, it could work.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Here's to y/n. Her talent is what got us here in the first place." Your guitarist, Lewis, raises his glass and everyone follows in with a loud, "To y/n."

You laugh, leaning into Colby. He lays his arm over you, taking a sip from his drink, "You really deserve this, babe." He smiles, planting a kiss on your temple.

You smile, taking a sip from your glass, "Let's face it though, I would be here without you guys." You motion to the rest of your band, "So let's give a toast to the people who stand beside-" you point to your drummer, Hunter,"And sit behind me on stage."

Hunter laughs, "Thanks for being so specific, y/n."

You nod, "Of course."

You look at Colby, "And thank you, for supporting me no matter what we go through."

He smiles, "I love you."

"I love you." You lean in, pecking his lips before turning to face your band, "Who's up for another round, huh?"

A few hours later, you and Colby arrive back to your house.

"So when's the album supposed to be finished?" Colby asks as he sits on the couch. You shrug your jacket off, walking over, "Hopefully by the end of the month. I have almost eight tracks so far? I want there to be at least ten."

"Are you going to release a single?" He extends his arm out as you sit down next to him, "Your singles are always a banger."

You laugh slightly and shrug, "I've thought about it. I mean, I have ideas but-"

Colby's phone buzzes and he ignores it.

Probably just Sam, you think, "I haven't really-" Colby's phone buzzes again, "Do you need to get that?"

He shakes his head, "I'm not worried about it. I'm worried about you." He pulls you closer and kisses your head, "So what are these ideas you have for a single?"

You blow out air, resting your head back onto his arm, "I'd have to go get my notebook, my brain is still kinda fuzzy from the show and then the post show alcohol."

You get up, laughing to yourself as you walk into the room that holds all your music equipment. You grab the notebook and turn around to walk back out, slowing down when you see Colby on his phone.

As much as you wanted to trust him and move forward, a part of you still had anxiety when it came to him with certain things.

You slowly walk over, "So."

He locks his phone and sets it down on the couch next to him, "Let's hear something." You sit down, facing him, "Okay. So I think these are going to go all in one song, but I so far I have I'm drowning in a dream I can't escape."

Your eyes can down over the page, "Then I have, ninety miles in the dark and family scars and electric hearts? I don't know there just something.." you look up at him, "That comes to me? I guess."

It was going so well, you didn't want to tell him that you were using your past times trying to make it work as a muse.

You weren't sure how he would take it, fine, probably. But at the same time, you didn't want to risk it.

"So Colby.." you set your notebook down, "I was thinking."

"Oh boy." He chuckles, "no, really. What's up?"

You smile as you move closer to him, "I was thinking that maybe we can.. grow.. more in this relationship?"

He tilts his head, looking over at you, "What do you mean?"

"I think you know what I mean." You look up at him, "I want more with you, Colby. I want to go out and be able to hold hands with you at a restaurant. I want to eventually get a house with you." You sigh, "I want marriage, Colby."

He stays quiet for a few seconds, "I've been thinking about it, too."

You raise your eyebrows, "Really? You have?"

He nods, sliding his hand up to grip your chin, "You are such a beautiful and talented woman, y/n. You genuinely surprise me every day I'm with you."

You smile and he leans in, "I love you."

You run your hand through his hair and lean in to close the space between the two of you, "I love you." You press your lips to his and move your head to rest your chin on his shoulder as he pulls you into a hug.

You glance down as his phone lights up and your heart starts racing as the name Serenity appears on the screen, "Who's Serenity?" You lean back and you can tell Colby is caught off guard, "It's.. No one, y/n. I promise."

You lean back and he tries to grab your hand, "Just wait.." you rip your hand away, placing it on your cheek, "Colby.. I thought.." you can feel tears burning in your eyes, "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"She isn't anything, I mean she was but-"

You cut him off, "When?"

"What?"

You raise your voice a little bit louder, "When. Colby, when was she ever anything?"

He stands up, "When we broke up this last time. I met her while Sam and I were in Georgia. It wasn't anything. I missed you, so that's why I-"

"You missed me? So you went and found someone to.. what, exactly? Distract you from the thought of me?" You throw your hands up, "Just when I thought things were changing."

"They are!" He says loudly, "They are! I haven't talked to her since the day before we left. I was focused on you because you're fucking everywhere y/n. but How can I get over you if-"

You raise your brows and he shakes his head, "No, that came out wrong.. I didn't.. I didn't it mean it to sound like that, I don't want to get over you." Colby walks over to you and you just stand there staring at the spot he walked away from.

He slides his hand up your arm, "I promise you it is and was nothing. Just a conversation.

"Did you sleep with her?" Your words are cold and you look at him. He shakes his head, "No. no we didn't do anything, and even if it did progress, which it didn't. Sam wouldn't have let anything happen, you know that?"

"Then why is she calling and texting you at three in the fucking morning?" You groan, "God, Colby. I genuinely thought we were going somewhere this time? All the times you showed up for me when you didn't before?" What was that just a cover so I didn't suspect anything?"

He shakes his head, "No, y/n. It's not like that at all."

"How can.." your voice breaks, so you pause, taking a deep breath before you sigh, "How am I supposed to believe you when you've done this shit before?"

"What are you talking about?" He tilts his head, "Please, tell me. I would lo-"

"Second time we got back together, I seen a Mariah on your phone. She was sending hearts, saying that if, and I quote, 'you and your mystery girl break up again, you know where to find me' end quote." You keep your stare on him, "we broke up shortly after getting back together that time, because things were getting too serious too fast, as you said."

"That wasn't.. she was.." he sighs, "We're talking about things over the course of a year or so, y/n. I didn't think I was ready to be with someone like you."

"Someone like me? What's that supposed to mean exactly?" You cross your arms and he sighs, "Again, didn't mean for it to sound like that."

"Just go."

Your words catch him off guard, "Huh?"

"Go. Get out." You point to the door, "I can't..." you close your eyes, begging yourself not to cry, "I can't keep doing this. Shutting myself down, trying to change you or even trying to change myself, Colby."

"Who's changing? What are you talking about?" He steps closer to you and you shake your head, looking up at him, "I just.. I guess I just gave you too many chances and you literally ran through them all."

You groan, "Fuck, I literally have everything I could ever want, but it obviously still isn't enough."

"Enough for what, y/n? You're enough for me." Colby's voice goes quieter, "Please." He steps towards you, wrapping his hands round your wrists, "Can you just please, sit down. Read the messsges. Time stamps. Everything."

"I just wanted more, Colby. More from you. This isn't.." you shake your head, "I just want to finally be with someone who doesn't leave me falling asleep confused every night."

"No, don't let me go." He rests his forehead against yours, "I mean it. I'm serious this time. I don't want anyone else but you."

"Who even am I anymore, Colby? Honestly." You step back, pulling your hands free from his grasp, "I literally don't even know who I am anymore. A singer who allows someone to just keep hurting her over and over again?"

"Y/n." Colby shakes his head, "Just please, hear me out."

"You had the chance to tell me. When we got back together.. I told you about the guy I had dinner with. I didn't even want to do it but I was so pissed at you for that Mariah girl, I just.. tried evening the score but I guess that didn't fucking matter, now did it?" You pace back and forth, feeling like you could puke.

"The thought.. of you even.." you lay your hands on your lips, "Being with another girl is enough to make me drop dead."

"I was never with any other girl, y/n. You have to-"

You cut him off, "No. I'm done. I'm done with this grey area of us that can only be seen when it's just us. It's not what I want, you know what I want and you just..." you look at him, "Clearly arent on the same level as me, you never were."

"But I am." He pleads and you shrug, "sure doesn't seem like it to me." You sigh, "Just.. go. Please."

"I'm not giving up on us, you can't just dig another grave and let me go, not like this." He stays in his spot and you just stare at him, "Colby. I'm tired. I have a headache, I'm not... I'm not doing this anymore. Just please, go home."

"Fine. But I promise, I'm not giving up. I'll give you space but I'll prove that I want you." He grabs his keys, walking towards the door.

You want to stop him but it's like your body is frozen in its place. You can't move, no matter how much you want to.

He gives you one last look before closing the door and you immediately break down, falling to your knees and leaning up against the couch.

You're gasping for air, clutching your chest as you try not to cry too loud.

You wanted Colby, but you didn't want the hurt that comes along with it anymore.

A part of you believed him, but at the same time, a part of you knew that you needed to let go.

Then it hit you.

Turn the pain, into power.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Over the last two weeks, the only time you'd leave your house was to go to the studio. You had a new song in that was practically almost down.

A new single, and you had Colby to thank for that.

Other than that, you laid at home, in the dark usually just thinking about everything, Colby mainly.

It's been two weeks and you've barely made the effort to answer him. But you always do. Whether it's just him one word answers, or you wait hours, you can't seem to stay away from him no matter how much you wanted to.

That was until you got a text from him that set you off almost instantly, it feels like we don't talk anymore and you don't seem to care.

You sit up in bed, scoffing as your thumbs tap the screen at lightning speed. As you're in the middle of your paragraph, he sends you another text, I knew that would get your attention.

You clench your jaw. selecting your paragraph and deleting it to which you replacing with, what do you want, Colby?

He instantly replies, I want you to see that I love you.

You stare at the message, unable to come up with a response. He texts again, After your show tomorrow, I'm going to prove to everyone that I'm ready to join you in the spotlight you stand in.

You've been so caught up in your own shit, you forgot about the show you have scheduled for tomorrow.

Another sold out show.

You respond to Colby's text, what? Are you gonna join me on stage?

You laugh slightly as you click out of Colby's text thread and go to your bands group chat, meet me at the studio. We're playing that song tomorrow night.

Your eyes move up to the banner notification with Colby's text that reads, you'll see, baby.

A smirk plays at your lips, until you remember that you're mad at him.

Why you're mad at him.

You toss your phone down, getting up to change before you make your way to the studio.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You walk into the venue, looking around in awe at the place you'll be playing. Thousands of seats scattered all around.

You were in shock each time you stepped foot into one of these places.

"Can't believe we'll be playing here tonight." Lewis walks up, slinging an arm over your shoulder, "You doin' okay?"

You sigh, crossing your arms, "Colby's coming tonight, and he says he has something planned to tell everyone he loves me. I don't.. really know how to feel but.."

You look up at him, "The show must go on, right?"

He tilts his head, "He isn't used to being with someone as pretty and famous as you are, y/n. I'm not trying to take his side, but maybe what happened between you guys, really opened his eyes."

You shrug, "I love him to death, but if we keep going in this direction, I don't think either one of us will make it out alive."

Lewis snaps his fingers, humming as he thinks.

You smirk, turning to face him, "What are you cooking in that head of yours?"

"Da da da.. da da.. da da.. Will we both go home alive? It wasn't hard to realize, love's the death of peace of mind? Think we can make a song about it?"

You laugh, thinking about it, "You know what." You nod, "Studio session. You and me. Tomorrow." You point at him and look over, seeing Sam walk towards you.

You walk over to him, bringing him in for a hug, "What are you doing here?" He hugs you and sighs, "Had to make sure my two people weren't going to kill each other, you know."

"So you heard about the argument.." you step back, crossing your arms over one another, "Sorry I didn't.. call you."

"Colby filled me in." He nods, "Plus I figured if you needed me you'd call."

"I haven't talked to anyone about what happened.. I mainly out focus into a song." You look at him and he tilts his head, "Does he know?"

You shake your head, "But he will tonight."

Sam wraps an arm around your neck, "You people and your song making." You shrug, "I felt like I couldn't explain it, no matter how hard I tried, so I wrote a song about it myself."

He laughs slightly, "What's it called?"

You bite the inside your lip, "The Grey."

"Hmm." He nods, "I'm actually really excited to hear it." He looks around, "Can't believe you sold this place out." He pulls you into him, "I'm proud of you, kid."

You laugh, rolling your eyes, "Thank you. Thank you." You sigh, "So is he here?"

Sam shakes his head, "Not yet. He's coming with our other friends later on." You nod, "Do you-"

"No. I don't know what he has planned." Sam laughs, "Nice try."

"Hey, couldn't hurt, right." You laugh and look up at Hunter who's waving at you. You nod, giving him a thumbs up, "I gotta go. Sound check you know."

"So I'll hear a snippet of the song?" Sam raises a brow and you shrug as you walk away, "Guess you'll find out."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You bounce up and down slightly, taking a deep breathes as your nerves for this show are a lot higher than they've been for any other show.

Colby was in the audience this time.

Not hiding behind the curtain, off to the side like he has for every other show he's been to.

You wanted to know what he was planning, it's driven you crazy since he first said something about it yesterday.

"You're gonna kill it." Hunter says nudging you as he walks by. Lewis walks up, putting on his guitar, "It's just like any other show."

"Let's hope." You laugh slightly before putting your inner ears in, shaking out your hands before taking the mic from your stage director.

The band walks out into stage, taking their places and the music to the first song starts playing.

You put on a smile, walking out when you hear your cue. You move around stage as you sing your first song, waving to the fan.

You walk over to the mic stand, placing your mic in the holder as you finish, "How's everybody feeling tonight!?"

A massive sea of screams erupts in front of you and you can't help but smile, "Thank you all for being here. Another sold out show!"

You clap and the fans erupt again.

"I have something very special towards the end of tonight's show!" You look back at the band, laughing when the fans go crazy, "Too bad you won't know what it is until the end, "Anyway. Here's Like a Villain."

The rock music starts and you slowly head bang to the music, rocking your mic stand as you wait for your time to start singing.

Colby is heavy on your mind, so heavy you almost miss your cue, "Look into my face, then look again. We are not the same, we're different.."

You smile as you see the fans dancing and singing along. You absolutely loved being on stage.

You continue singing verse one, "You need a new clean slate without the dents. A place to put your pain, your consequence.. When you look into the mirror, are you even there?"

You take a breath, grabbing the mic off the stand. You bend down slightly as you belt out the chorus, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on.."

You walk around the stage as you sing, giving them a performance. You dance around during the little break, walking over to the other side as you start to sing the second verse, "So write a brand new page, then write again. I know your act is staged, yet you pretend.."

Finishing the second verse, you move into the chorus again, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on.."

You move back to the mic stand, resting it back in its holder as you wait for your cue for the bridge, gently singing, "Like a villain, I couldn't be I didn't need it, it needed me.. Like a villain, I couldn't be. I didn't need it, it needed me.."

It goes into the breakdown and your eyes scan the crowd and you see Sam and Colby standing in the VIP section of the pit.

Your heart skips a beat, and you start to sing again, "I don't wanna know all your secrets 'cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself.."

The song goes into the outro and the band stops playing and the crowd goes crazy.

That one is always a hit.

You felt on top of the world right now.

You literally did have everything, but you still wanted more, just like your new song says. Just like you told Colby.

You were nervous. The closer you got to performing it for the very first time.

You weren't sure how Colby was going to react. Sam was the closest person to him, but you knew he wouldn't say anything.

At least you hoped he wouldn't.

A few songs later, almost ready to close out the show, you take a deep breath, "You guys have been absolutely phenomenal tonight!"

You raise your hands above your head, clapping for the crowd, "I mean it. I think this is the best crowd we've had this year so far."

The crowd screams and you sigh, "Alright guys.. so that surprise I was talking about earlier.." you pause, letting the crowd scream, "Alright, so I may or may not have been in the studio these last two weeks trying to get out a new single, and let's just say.." you pause, smirking out at the crowd, "I've done just that."

You laugh, grabbing your mic off the stand and walking around, "This single means.. a lot to me, for a few reasons and I'm very excited to announce that it will be out...."

The crowd go crazy, yet again, chanting in unison, "Tell us! Tell us!"

"Okay okay." You wave your hand, "I don't know when it'll be out, but we're going to play it for you right now."

You walk back over to the mic stand, giving your band a thumbs up, and they start playing.

You nod your head to the slow moving, then quick to pick up pace, "Evened the scores, then I let it all go fall apart." You take a quick breathe, "And every step forward put a little more sword in your heart, yeah.."

Your heart was pounding harder with each line, "Looking sideways when I say I'm okay with the past But I'm afraid of what I might say if you ask.."

You grab your mic, walking to the left of the stage, away from the side Colby was on, going into the pre-chorus, "Gave you way too many chances, you ran through 'em all..Got everything I could want, but it wasn't enough.."

"Nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call.."

You take a breath, "Got everything I could want, but I still wanted more.."

"Yeah, I still wanted, more.."

You walk towards the right side of the stage, smoothly transferring into the chorus, "There's not another way, don't let me go.. Don't dig another grave today..."

"I'll make the same mistakes, I'll never know Who I was before I faded away.. Into the grey.."

You knew Colby knew. You were sweating.

You had a little break before you went back in for the second verse, "All of this time sittin' inside, sittin' in the dark.. And every night, I can see why you could never stop, yeah.."

"Lying is hard and the truth comes out anyway.. You're going way too far, gonna drop dead at this rate.."

You sing the chorus again before grabbing the mic, moving to the right of the stage, directly in line of sight from Colby.

You lay your hand on your chest, tapping it with the words of the post-chorus, "I did it to myself, tried to be someone else. I let it tear me down and I'll never be the same."

"I did it to myself, tried to be someone else..And you didn't notice 'til I finally got, finally got away.."

You drag out the last word and the crowd goes absolutely insane.

You smile as you sing the words to the bridge, then moving into the chorus one final time before moving back to your mic stand to close out, "Into the grey."

You step back from your mic stand and smile, looking out over the crowd.

Your eyes land on Colby and he's clapping and shaking his head with a smile on his face.

He pulls out his phone, turning around to record him and you on the stage. Sam starts smiling and laughing as he gives you a double thumbs up.

You blow a kiss to him, laughing as you wave and then suddenly the fans go even crazier.

You look down, shrugging as you ask, "What is happening?" You being the mic up to your lips, "Why are we having a second rush of cheering, I mean I appreciate it but, fill me in. Please."

You point to one of the girl's phone and security grabs it, handing it to you.

You watch the video play. It's what you watched Colby do, but you didn't know exactly what he did. You smile as you reach up to take your in ear out, "I have to be able to hear it right?"

The girls in front go absolutely insane screaming things you can't comprehend, "Okay, okay. Hold on."

You bring the phone up to your ear and you wanted to cry.

This is what you wanted all along.

Colby screams into the phone, "That's my fucking girlfriend." You hand security back the phone and the girl screams, "is it true? Is it true?"

You smile, giving her a nod, "Yes." You look up, bringing the mic to your lips, "Alright everybody. Thank you guys so much for a great show. We will definitely be back! I love you!"

You put your mic into the stand, waving as you run off the stage. You make your way back and your manager comes up to you, "Oh my god, y/n. That song. Top of the charts. You need to release it immediately."

You laugh, "I'll get it out tomorrow." You look over his shoulder, seeing Sam and Colby walk down the hallway, "Excuse me." You walk around him, making your way to the boys.

Sam gives you a hug, squeezing you tight, "Phenomenal."

You lean back, smiling, "Yeah?"

He nods, "Absolutely fucking insane." He moves to the side and you look up at Colby, "Are you mad?" He tilts his head, "Are you mad?"

You shake your head, chewing on your chew as you try not to smile, "No."

"Good." Sam lays his hands on each of your one shoulders, "Now kiss and make up." He pushes you towards each other and you laugh, wrapping your arms around Colby's neck.

You press your lips to his and lean back, "We gotta go. I need a shower. I was sweating because I thought you weren't going to like the song."

"I'll only be mad if it doesn't make top of the charts." He laughs, following you to your dressing room, along with Sam.

You walk in and go over to your bag, grabbing sweats and a sweatshirt, "I'm going to change quick." You walk behind the solid partition, quickly changing from your stage outfit into something comfy.

"So it was a good show?" You ask walking out to toss your stuff into your bag. You pull out your slippers, dropping them to the floor.

"Ten out of ten, will come to one again." Sam gives you a thumbs up. You smile, looking at Colby, "Ready to go home?"

He nods, "Yes. Please."

You zip your bag, walking over to Colby and taking his hand in yours. He gives your hand a squeeze and follows you out.

As you walk out, you see fans waiting by the one barricade, "I'm going to go see them." Colby nods, "Let's go."

You smile as you walk over, moving in between the two security guards. Colby takes your bag, waving and saying hi to the fans that call out for him.

"So you're Colby's girlfriend?" The one asks and you nod, smiling as you sign her paper, "I sure am."

"You looked so beautiful tonight." Another one says and you pout, "Stop it, you're so beautiful."

You turn, taking the one girls phone and taking a few selfies with her.

You do that with a few more and step back, "I hate to go, but I am exhausted. Thank you guys so much for coming out. I love you I love you!" You blow kisses to them and wave as you walk way, Colby glued to your hip.

"You're so cute when you do that." Colby opens the car door for you and you smile, "I love them. I want them to know that."

You get in, Colby moving to sit next to you.

"So. I have to ask." You turn to him, "Why now?"

He shrugs, placing his hand on your knee, "You wanted a huge gesture and our figured doing it at your show was pretty big."

You laugh, "I mean, yeah. And tweeting it.."

"I know we have some of the same fans so I figured if I tweet it, one was bound to see it and you know how fast that shit spreads." He squeezes your leg, "I'm just.. I wish I could prove to you how sorry I am."

"I mean.." you lay your hand on his hand, sliding it up his arm, "you're doing good so far... but I have a few more ideas.."

"Mm." He leans in, "Do tell." He kisses your cheek and you smile, "I'll tell you when we get home."

"But home is so far." He whines quietly, "Just one thing.. yeah?"

You turn your head, biting your lip as you look at him, "Don't push it." You laugh, pressing your lips to his and you couldn't wait to be home.

Soon enough, but it felt like forever, you and Colby are running up to the door. You work to unlock it as his hands slip under your sweatshirt.

"Almost.." You sigh, "Got it." You push the door open, turning around to face Colby as you walk backwards into your house.

His lips go to yours and your arms go around his neck as he kicks the door shut with his foot.

As you're making out, the post-show adrenaline wears off and you push yourself off of Colby, "Wait."

"Don't do this." He sighs and you shake your head, "How do I know it'll be different this time? How did I know that you'll be able to contain your jealousy and everything else that tore us apart before?"

A smirk grows on his lips and you tilt your head, "What?" He walks over to you, cupping your cheeks to give you a kiss before whispering, "I'm not jealous anymore because everyone knows you're mine."

He bends down slightly, lifting you up, "Now let's go get that shower, yeah?"

You smile, your hands on either side of his neck as he walks you into the bathroom. He pins you up against the wall, holding you up with his hips as he reaches in to turn on the water.

The bathroom quickly fills with steam as he sets you down so you can undress.

Hands are all over. Lips are kissing any part of your bodies they can get to.

It's hot.

He steps in, pulling you in with him and he spins you around as he closes the door. You gasp as your back presses up against the cool tile of the shower.

A moan escapes from your lips as his fingers move down to circle your clit, "F-fuck."

"This was I needed to do?" Colby asks and you shrug, lips parted slightly as you nod, "Kind of."

He hums in response, dropping down to his knees, "Or was it this." He lifts a leg, placing it on his shoulder before leaning in to lick between your folds.

Your hands move to his wet hair, tangling your fingers in as you arch your back off the wall.

His tongue circling your clit before gently nipping and sucking. You moan, tilting your head back as you close your eyes.

You missed him between your legs.

You missed him in general.

"C-Colby." You breathe out, "S-shit."

You look down at him, biting on your lip as you watch the image below you. His fingers dig into your skin and you roll your hips, "Yes, yes, yes."

He brings a hand over, slipping two fingers into you which earn a whine from your lips.

You pull his hair slightly harder which causes him to groan. The stroke of his fingers is absolutely perfect, he knows your body better than anyone.

"F-fu- co- col-" You squeeze your eyes shut at the pleasure of his fingers inside of you and his tongue on your clit.

He knew you were close, so he kept that pace as best he could.

Your hips buck out, moaning loudly as you push his gave into you, "Colby!" You clench around his fingers, your legs shaking more and more with each second you have to hold yourself up.

Colby leans back, setting your leg down on the floor but keeping a hand on your waist as he stands back up, "I fucking love you." He tilts your chin up and presses a kiss to your lips.

Your tongue moves in sync with his as he lets out a low groan as you wrap your hand around his cock, "Fuck. I need you."

You smirk at his words, "Fuck me."

He leans down, lifting you up and your arms wrap around his neck. He cautiously slips his one arm under your knee and you reach down to hold his cock steady as he slips into you.

You let out a loud moan, tilting your head back as you feel him rest inside of you.

"Look at me, baby." Colby whispers.

You tilt your head up, tightening your arms around his neck. He watches your face twitch as he slowly pulls out and thrusts back in.

You keep your eyes on him, forcing yourself to keep them open as you squeeze his cock, "Fuck, Colby."

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours and you slide a hand up to the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.

"I love you." Colby mumbles against your lips, "It's always been you."

You moan into his mouth, digging your nails into his skin, "Don't leave me again." His lips attach to your neck, sucking a mark into your skin.

You moan, tilting your head to the side. Your eyes flutter closed as he kisses his way over your collar bones, making his way to the other side, "Never.."

He stops thrusting, resting inside of you, "I'm not going anywhere, and I plan on making sure everyone knows it."

You smile, nodding your head, "No more grey area?"

"Full on color, baby." He smiles and brings his hand up to cup your cheek, moving his lips with yours.

He sets you down, spinning you around so your chest is pressed against the glass shower door. His hand slides up to wrap around your neck, squeezing a moan from you as he slips his cock back in.

"F-Fuck." You whimper, pressing a hand to the glass and dragging it down. Your eyes roll back as he squeezes harder, cutting off your moans from sounded loud.

His thrusts are slow and hard, digging his fingers into your waist harder with each one, "F-fucking hell, baby."

He lets go of your neck and you gasp for air as he slides his hand to your shoulder, gripping it as he thrusts faster.

A string of moans and whimpers leaves your lips as his thrusts grow sloppy. He leans forward, resting his head on the back of yours and you can tell he's going to cum soon.

"Not gonna last much longer." He whispers, his voice raspy as he tries to hold it together, "Fuck, fuck."

"Don't stop." You moan out, "pl-ease don't stop."

You move your hips back into him, moaning loudly as you feel yourself growing closer, quite quickly.

"C-Colby!" His name leaves your lips in a scream as you cum around him once more. You moan, feeling his cock twitch deep inside of you.

You knew he came with you.

He lets his grip on your loosen, leaning up as he slides his hand down your back, "Incredible." He pulls you to stand up, his cock falling out as you turn.

Your lips meet his and he pulls you close to him.

After your shower, you walk out with a towel wrapped around you. Colby is lying on the bed and you can tell he's nervous about something.

"What?" You ask, stopping in your tracks, "What happened?"

He sits up, shaking his head, "Nothing, I'm just.. thinking.."

"Oh god, are you about to-"

"No, no. It's not what you think." He laughs slightly, brushing your wet hair from your shoulders, "I just don't know if this is the right time, but I feel like I need to just.."

Your heart is racing and your mind is moving too fast for you to even pick one thought to focus on, "Just say it." You blurt out and Colby sighs, "Fine. I will."

He takes a step back, getting down on one knee as he pulls out a ring from his pocket, "I don't even know if it's the right time but it feels like it and I jus-"

You cut him off by falling to your knees in front of him,  eyes glassy as you look from the ring to him, "Yes."

"I- what? Yes?" His mouth drops and he smiles, "You think it's the right time?"

"You told everyone I was your girlfriend at my show." You pluck the ring from his fingers, a smirk on your face, "Now at the next one, I can tell them I've been upgraded to fiancé."

He stands up and pulls you to your feet. He places the ring on your left hand and sighs, "I promise, we're going to work."

You look up at him, "We're endgame."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I hope you liked it. As always, tell me what you think. Thanks for wanting more from me. It means SO much to me! Love you all!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

Taglist: @fawned01 @theblackcatwitch @jaeyuns-world @littlec0ffeegirl @rosie-writings @nikkiwastaken @skyslondon @urmomsgirlfriend1 @this-is-not-eirini

[clip-the-simp]

Do Over

Ao3 Master list

Pairing: Logan Howlett // Wolverine x mutant!fem!reader

Word count: 3,898

Cw: light proofreading, fluff, mentions of intoxication, pet names in replace of y/n,

Summary: After the drunken kiss you had given Logan you couldn’t get the scene out of your head. So as you avoided Logan he then confronts you during training.

A/N: Alrighty rooty people! This is the second part to A Long Days Work. I hope y’all like it. Not 100% sure what imma do after this one but I got a pretty good idea. I have several scenarios I can do but they would be more filler then any substantial plot. But let me know what y’all think.

You had spent three days avoiding Logan as much as possible. The overwhelming embarrassment of what you’d done eating at your thoughts any time he was around. Granted there was only so much avoiding you could do when he seemed to be everywhere you went. He would frequently bring kids to your office to be bandaged up in which you had to speak with him. But he also sought your company whenever he could which added to your overwhelming thoughts.

You hadn’t found the proper words yet to bring up the drunken kiss from that Tuesday night’s outing and it was killing you. It wasn’t like you wanted to stop being around Logan but avoiding him until the right words came to you was best. Although when you couldn’t avoid his proximity you kept your speech to a minimum. The way he acted as if nothing happened and hadn’t brought it up either also caused your brain to overthink more.

However, there was no escaping him when a scheduled training session came. While the two of you trained in the danger room it was definitely impossible not to speak to him. He was still working to get you to use your powers more offensively. So his solution had been to go one on one with you. When he would give you instructions on how to disarm an enemy you simply took it in. Whereas in other times you would’ve teased and joked with him you stayed silent.

“Try again. Focus on restraining me with your powers then go in for the attack.” He told you with his usual gruff tone. Your breathing is ragged as you collect yourself. Logan was able to throw you off easily with every attempt you made and he knew something was up. Sure your offensive skills weren’t great but every time your powers were used to restrain his arms, as soon as you came in contact with him, they would dissipate to allow Logan to throw you.

You caught your breath before charging at him once again. Quickly forming a band of air particles to hold his arms to his sides, you went to sweep his legs out from under him. But as soon as you knelt to the floor and swung out your leg the focus you had on his restraints faded. He jumped back with his arms now free, and while your guard was down he lunged to pin you to the ground.

Before you were able to defend or roll out of his grasp Logan had your hands pinned above your head and your legs sufficiently incapacitated. You hit your head back against the mat and closed your eyes with an aggravated groan. Your thoughts were becoming more focused on Logan while he was on you which you pushed out of your head. You tilted your head to the side to avoid looking directly at him, knowing if you didn’t not so innocent thoughts would acure.

However, Logan could only take your lack of attention in him for so long. Gripping both your wrist in one hand he forced your gaze back to him with the other. A scowl plastered on his face as he looked down at you.

“You’re sloppy. What’s going on in that head out yours?” He said with a firm grip on your face. Your eyebrows furrowed and you couldn’t help mirroring the look Logan had. As you started to speak he released his grip on your face.

“You don’t want to know.” With your words his hold on your wrist tightened, a slight pain starting to form. A hiss slipped through your teeth before you bite your tongue.

“If I didn’t wanna know I wouldn’t have asked. Now spill.” He demanded, leaning down to invade your space. You tried to buck your hips to get him off but he was firmly planted on top. Your brow softened and your full focus was on him. You felt so small under him and even more so as he continued to glare down at you.

“Get off me Logan.” Your voice was leveled but there was a hint of a plea in your words. Logan’s expression didn’t falter but his grip on your wrist loosened to allow circulation back to them.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.” Logan’s voice wasn’t nearly as gruff as his face let on. He was worried and you knew that. You had gotten to know his expressions and vocal cues to understand what was going on behind his eyes. However you still couldn’t bring yourself to admit to Logan how much you loved him.

“Then we’re going to be here a while.” You snapped back with a bit of challenge in your tone. Logan was unmoved and simply kept a strealy gaze trained on you.

“Fine by me.” He said without moving an inch. His eyes burrowed into your own as he kept his focus trained on you. The pressure became too much as the guilt and embarrassment seeped into you.

It wasn’t Logan’s fault you couldn’t confront your feelings. Couldn’t put words to the deep love and admiration you held for him over all those centuries. But in that moment you were being forced to confess to so much more than you had been ready for. A shaky exhale left your lungs as you began to speak.

“Logan. I’m sorry.” You said, voice cracking slightly as you kept tears from rolling. It wasn’t the time to be an emotional crier. You blinked away the excess wetness while Logan looked down at you confused.

“For what? You haven’t done anything-“ he began, but you quickly cut him off. Not wanting your words to leave you before you could put them out there.

“I didn’t want our first kiss to be like that.” You blurted, words seemed to blend together as they came out. Logan looked shocked for a moment before realization hit him. You’ve been wanting to kiss him for longer than he had known. That knowledge caused a smirk to adorn his face.

“How long have you had plans to kiss me?” He teased, leaning in just a bit more. You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing. As if Logan staring into your eyes would give away more of your secrets.

“Far longer than I care to admit.” You informed him. Letting your head fall to the side to rest against your arm that was still pinned above you.

“Then let’s try again.” Logan said as he leaned back, hands leaving your wrist. He still had your legs pinned but you didn’t pay attention in your shock. Your eyes flew open and you found his eyes. There was no lie behind his gaze and he meant it. He wanted another kiss.

“What?” The nonchalant suggestion from him caught you far off guard. The implications that he saw you as more than just a friend causing your heart to flutter.

“You heard me.” He rolled his eyes not wanting to make a big deal of the situation. “Meet me near the oak tree after dinner.” He instructed you. Your cheeks grew hot as reality began to sink in.

“O-ok.” You couldn't help the stammer that came out as Logan proceeded to get off you. He reached out a hand to help you up which you gladly took. Already missing the feeling of his warmth encapsulating your body.

“I think that’s enough training for the day. I’ll see you later.” He bid you a quick farewell and made his way to the door. But before Logan left he turned back to you.

“Don’t be late.” And with that he left before you could reply with anything. You pressed your hands to your face and felt the heat radiating from your cheeks. There was a spinning in your head from it all. You couldn’t believe what had happened. Logan didn’t hold any destain for the previous kiss, and on top of that he was willing to do it over.

“Holy shit.”

-

The remainder of the day passed at an agonizing pace. Even with only a few hours before dinner the world felt slower than normal. You had taken a shower after training like you normally would and proceeded to make yourself look presentable.

You decided on wearing one of your more casual dresses. Nothing too fancy but still something nicer than your work scrubs. Once you were fully confident in yourself you made your way down stairs. Before you even made it through the door you stopped when you noticed Rouge instantly giving you a shocked look.

“Don’t you look nice? Got a date?” Rouge asked, sitting in one of the island chairs as you stood by the door. You leaned against the door frame, crossed your arms, and shrugged your shoulders. Trying to seem nonchalant about your secret meet up with Logan.

“Not exactly.” You said with a sheepish smile. There was already the smell of food being prepared in the air. One of your eyebrows rose as you straightened up and began to walk into the kitchen.

“Who’s cooking dinner tonight?” You asked as you peaked your head around the corner of the fridge that was blocking your view.

“Remi is.” Rouge said, pointing to the man at the stove. You turned the corner and spotted Gambit in his apron along with a ladle in his hand. You let out a dramatic sigh as you leaned against the island.

“And I thought I was going to go a week without food poisoning.” You said winking at Rouge who chuckled at your remark. Gambit turned around and pointed the ladle at you with furrowed brows.

“If you don’t like Gambit’s cookin’ you’re always welcome to make your own meals. More for the rest of us.” He said before turning back to the pot and stirring the food inside. Rouge and you chuckled at his half joking remark.

The food he was making was only meant for the adults of the school, the students had already eaten an hour before and were already in bed for the night. The teachers always ate later due to grading and other adult responsibilities. But it was always a pleasant experience to share a meal with the other teachers at the end of the day.

“You know I’m just pulling your leg.” You said with a smile before moving to the fridge to grab a drink from your designated supply. Typically you kept all your favorite foods and drinks up in your room like the other teachers. However you didn’t mind sharing with the students from time to time.

“Have you seen Logan recently?” You turned back to the other two before popping the lid off your drink and taking a sip. Rouge and Gambit looked at one another. He shrugged while Rouge looked back at you.

“Not for a while Sugar. Although the stuff he uses to make that poutine dish of his is gone.” She informed you which caused your heart to sink a little. Part of you was hoping to see Logan during dinner, but you should’ve known he would be off eating by himself. He typically stayed away from the group dinner situation unless he knew you were cooking that night.

“Thank you Rouge.” You acknowledged her before taking another sip of your drink. It ran cold down your throat as it reached your stomach. You had started to dissociate from this situation but Gambit got your attention back once he began to speak.

“I think I heard him talking to himself early in his room.” Gambit chimed in, still stirring the pot. Both literally and metaphorically. Your focus switched from him to Rouge as she began to add on.

“Wouldn’t be the first time. Man might not say much in front of folks but he’s quite the mumbler when he’s alone.” She wasn’t wrong either. There had been many occasions you had walked by his class room where he would be hunched over his desk mumbling about grading papers. You always enjoyed watching him for a moment before interrupting his thoughts to talk with him.

“Who are we talking about?” A familiar voice asked which broke got from your thoughts. You turned to the door and saw Scott with Jean in tow. You smiled at them as they joined the three of you in the kitchen.

“Logan.” Gambit answered them flatly as he focused on adding some seasoning to the food. You took another sip of your drink as Scott let out a scoff.

“Oh Mr. ‘I’m too good to eat with everyone else’?” He asked in a mocking tone which earned him a light smack to the shoulder from Jean. Along with an eye roll for yourself.

“The very same. Sugar here was asking about him.” Rouge outed you as she pointed to where you leaned against the granite top. Your face burned as the attention was focused on you.

“Is that why you’re all dressed up?” Jean asked with a warm smile. She already knew the answer to her own question. You had confided in her and Ororo about your feelings for Logan on many occasions. However every time they encouraged you to confess to him you always got flustered. Before you could properly answer Jean, Gambit beat you to it.

“Hey now maybe she just felt like getting fancy for Gamit’s cookin.” He said with a cheeky smile. You rolled your eyes as did everyone at his remark. Having finished your drink you walked behind Gambit to the trash and gave him a light tap on his back as you passed.

“In your dreams swamp rat.” You remarked making your way to the trash while everyone chucked. A smile graced your face as the room was filled with laughter.

For the rest of the evening everything was joyful as usual. Laughter filled the kitchen and dining room as food was dishes out. Charles and Storm showed up a few minutes before dinner was ready while Hank and Kurt appeared right before everyone was seated.

Conversation flowed like it usually did. Everyone talking about their day and the misshapes that occurred. It was always a wonderful way to end your day. Once all the food was gone and the conversation had died down you looked at the clock and realized it was eight thirty.

Grabbing your plate you excused yourself before walking to the sink. Taking the time to quickly wash your dishes and drying them to put them away in the cabinet. You bid everyone a good night before making your way to the back door. There were murmurs coming from the dining room but there was only one sentence you could make out from Scott.

“Do you think it’s actually going to happen?”

-

The air was warm just as it had been all week. It was a pleasant feeling on your skin as you made your way across the yard. Glancing into the pond as you passed to admire the light of the moon dancing across its surface. It wasn’t a far walk to the spot Logan told you to meet at. The tree being a fairly common landmark to gather around.

As you approached the oak tree you noticed the man you’d been anticipating all evening. He was leaning against the tree with his eyes trained on the moon hanging in the sky. However when you rounded the corner his attention turned to you. A smile appeared on his face as he recognized your presents.

You took a moment to take him in. Noticing that his usually messy cat ear hairdo was styled in a more uniformed way. His clothes also seemed to be cleaner than he usually kept himself. The blue flannel he wore didn’t have any stains or stray bullet holes unlike the majority of his clothing. He had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows which gave you the perfect look at his arms as they flexed. Although his clothes were clean, he still wore the flannel like usual. It was completely open to show off his undershirt that was tucked into his usual worn out jeans. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you looked at him.

“You didn’t have to get all dressed up for little ol me.” You said, closing the distance between the two of you. He pushed off the tree and stood toe to toe with you as he smiled down at you.

“You’re one to judge. I never see you in dresses. Besides on undercover missions obviously.” Logan remarked as he ran one of his hands down your bear arm, taking your hand in his as he reached it.

“What can I say? It’s hot.” You remarked while using your free hand to fan your face. It was a poor excuse since it wasn’t truly that hot. Logan gave you a teasing smirk pulling you a bet closer by the hand he was holding.

“It sure is.” He said, referring to the dress you were wearing. Your face grew red from embarrassment but you couldn’t help smiling as you hit his chest with the back of your free hand.

“Not like that!” You couldn’t help the way your voice rose when you were embarrassed. Logan laughed when you hit him only taking the opportunity to move his hands to your hips. Pulling you flush to his body as he leaned in a little closer to you. His hold on you was gentle and warm as his heat radiated through his clothing. You lifted your hands to rest on his shoulders as his thumbs began to rub circles where they laid.

“So doll face.” His right hand moved up your body before stopping at your cheek. Running his finger over it as he kept his gaze fixed on yours. A warm feeling began to build in your body.

“You have me. How did you imagine that first kiss you’ve been planning for oh so long?” There was a hint of teasing to his question but with the way he held you there was no doubt he was, for the most part, serious. However the way he phrased his question threw you off which caused your blush to remain a deep red.

“I- honestly I can’t decide. It’s embarrassing to say I have too many scenarios of how I wanted it to go.” You confessed before covering your face with your right hand. Logan took his left hand from your hip to take the one you used to cover your face. Bringing it back to his shoulder as he put his hand back on your hip.

“Then perhaps I’ll show you how I pictured it.” He suggested before the hand on your face moved to cup the back of your neck. Logan slowly brought your face closer to his as he leaned down to close the gap.

As your lips met you instinctively brought your arms up to wrap around his neck. The burning desire to keep him as close as possible to you grew as he deepened the kiss. It started out soft but once your arms were around his neck he couldn’t help gripping onto you tighter. Too eager for his own good, Logan took that opportunity to slip his arm around your waist and pull you deeper into him.

However you hadn’t realized the lack of oxygen you had consumed before the kiss so had to break away before it got too heated. Your eyes remained closed as you breathed in deep before focusing your vision back on Logan. His hand still cupped the back of your neck and it had just registered that his other had snakes around your waist.

“That- was better than I imagined.” You told him breathlessly. Quickly realizing how stupid you sounded in such an intimate moment. You couldn’t help burying your face in his shoulder to hide it. After centuries of pining over the man that was all you could say after kissing him? Logan let out a laugh which reverberated through him and you felt through his hold still on you.

“Oh ya?” His words got your attention as you looked back into Logan’s eyes. Both his arms moved to securely hold you as close as he could get you. He leaned his head down, his breath brushing over your ear as he began to speak in a low tone.

“Well maybe-“ but before he was able to get the words out there were sudden noises coming from the tree tops. The sounds of crashing limbs and a few pained noises followed when a blue man landed in the grass beside you. Laying on the ground was Nightcrawler. A sheepish smile appeared once he realized he was caught.

“Hi guys.” He said as he slowly stood, rubbing the back of his neck as another pain ran through him from the fall. Your face turned a bright red with embarrassment while Logan glared at the elf.

“Kurt!” The two of you yelled in unison. Your voice held an edge of shock while Logan’s was laced with anger. You tried to pull away from Logan to check on Kurt but his hold got tighter when you tried to leave.

Before he got yelled at any further, Kurt vanished with a puff of sulfur smoke. Leaning back slightly you could see past the tree and into the dinning room through the window. Although it was hard to make out who was in there, you had your speculations. You also had a feeling you knew exactly why Kurt had been there. Sent in by the group to spy and tell them how you and Logan were doing. Bets had surely been placed on if Logan and you would finally kiss.

“There goes the moment.” You said with a deep sigh as you looked back at Logan. His hold loosened a fraction to allow you some movement within his arms. He gave you a soft smile before placing a kiss on your forehead and fully letting you go. His arms leaving your waist rather reluctantly. Not wanting to fully rid himself of your touch he held both your hands in his as he began to speak.

“I wouldn’t count on that. Can’t say I haven't wanted to do that for quite some time myself.” He told you, his thumbs beginning to rub over your hands. The familiar feeling caused your smile to appear along with the recognition of his words. Logan leaned down to your ear, his breath ghosting over your skin as he spoke.

“Maybe next time I can show you what else I’ve been wanting to do.” His words caused a shiver to run up your spine while he pulled away. Before you could speak his lips met yours once again. Only for a brief moment, long enough for you to kiss back, before he was pulling away again with a smile.

“But for now you need to get some rest. It’s late.” Logan acknowledged, brushing a stand of hair out from in front of your face. The consideration for your well-being made you smile a little wider. Nodding in agreement, but not wanting to leave him just yet, you came up with a simple request.

“Walk me to my room?” You asked. Knowing he wouldn’t say no to it. He always walked with you regardless of the safety the school provided. He smiled down at you and gave a quick nod.

“Sure thing sweetheart.”

[323cutie]

soak you in and let it stew. | khj

pairing ୨୧ hongjoong x reader

word count ୨୧ 700

genre ୨୧ like mostly suggestive and a teeny bit of angst. Lol. feat. rockstar joong!!!!

warnings ୨୧ ermmm it gets kinda smutty at the end barely!!!! also suggestive language and such throughout

author's note ୨୧ hongjoong has always been sexy but im Feeling things. i need to go home

18+ mdni!

You see Hongjoong for the first time in five months at a bar, performing on stage in a band.

It shouldn’t really surprise you since his apartment is over in this part of the city. But it’s weird. It’s not like you never expected to see him again, but you didn’t really think about it either – too focused on work and forgetting the sting of a premature parting.

He’s different now. His hair is shorter and brown, his body a little bigger. He looks in his element up there, the red-brown guitar you remember seeing in his backseat a perfect fit for the glimmer in his eyes. Part of you aches, part of you yearns.

The whole thing makes you feel a little silly, all things considered – it wasn’t not a relationship, but neither of you ever put a label on it. Maybe it could be called a summer fling, an intimate crossing of paths. But you got a promotion and consequently busier, and Hongjoong started to put more time into his band; after a while, you both kind of called it quits. It’s a weird, rumbling nostalgia, seeing him on stage, wondering what parts of him you can still trace from memory, wondering what parts are different. If he’s different at all.

You keep an eye on the stage once the band’s set is over, and when you see Hongjoong make his way to the bar you do, too, telling your friends to watch your bag. Your heartbeat feels so loud, but you don’t think you’re nervous.

“Hey,” you greet, sliding into the stool next to Hongjoong. His eyes light up with recognition and you offer a little smile.

“Hi,” he responds, mirroring your grin.

It’s easy to fall into conversation with him, even when you think it shouldn’t be. You’ve missed so much of each other, and it’s not like the two of you parted on bad terms anyways. Hongjoong is eager to talk, and you’re more than happy to listen. 

More than happy to take him in, looking at his teeth, his hands, his neck.

“You’re giving me that look,” he says suddenly, and you blink back to his eyes. He looks cautious, but also… teasing. Knowing. Understanding.

You think you know, but you ask anyways. “What look?”

“Like you want something else from me,” Hongjoong responds. He takes a sip of his drink but keeps his eyes on you. You feel like you can't breathe.

There’s something in you that alights at the thought that he still knows these things about you. Even after so long, he can read you so easily – then again, all that time you spent together… lazy Sunday mornings with nothing to do, or wine-filled, rainy nights lit up by streetlights, or letting the feeling of him simmer in your bones, or heated, hazy calls in the middle of the night when you couldn’t make the train down. You figure it takes a while to forget that, to unlearn all of it.

You open your mouth to say something that sounds an awful lot like a plea, but Hongjoong gives you a knowing look. “Don’t start begging,” he says, but there’s something different about his tone. A challenge lingers in his words, a flash of something in his eyes under the dim lighting.

So you say, “don’t make me.”

He quirks an eyebrow at you, but the growing grin on his face is unmistakable. There’s a promise in his gaze and you feel it follow you as you walk back to your table to grab your bag and tell your friends you’re leaving.

You feel it later, too, in his room. His sheets are new, and he has more posters hung up. But his fingers still taste like him and a little bit like you, comforting familiarity even now when you’re practically melting into his mattress. Hongjoong sighs and you feel proud that every decision you’ve made has led you right back to his bed, right back to him.

And when he’s pressed all the way into you and he breathes out a whisper about finally having you again, you know he feels the same way.

[lilhughesy]

Omg! I love your writing! You write Conrad so perfectly. Can I please request one with Conrad Fisher where the reader and Conrad are best friends but everyone knows that they love each other because they’re always touchy and affectionate with each other. They even have cute nicknames for each other and everyone else just wants them to get together already. Your blog is amazing ❤️✨

orange bikini, the marina, and ray bands | c.fisher x reader

a/n: thank you so much for the request love! i had a lot of fun writing it, i hope you enjoy <3

warnings: fluff

—

summers were always unforgettable. maybe because you got to spend every moment of it with your best friends. as a local in cousins, you watched different families come and go every summer — only a few of them being regular summer visitors. for example, the fisher and conklin families.

susannah fisher was such a bright light to the lives of the locals, bringing charity events to cousins every summer along with invested a lot of money into the country club. as for her sons, they were just like her. both conrad and jeremiah were bundles of sunshine, like a warm hug, or maybe a refreshing glass of lemonade on a hot summers day.

i had immediately bonded with conrad when i first met him when i was eight and he was ten. we met at the beach and instantly clicked. i soon was introduced to his younger brother, jeremiah, and two family friends, belly and steven. although i spent just as much time with the rest of them as i did with conrad, somehow him and i were always the closest.

despite the small age gap between us, we were like two peas in a pod.

i always looked forward to june since it indicated the start of summer, when my best friends return back to their summer home. i do have close friends here at cousins who are also locals, but the conklin and fisher siblings bring a new sort of fun to my life.

now that i’m sixteen, i stand at the marina dock, working alongside my friend cam. we both got internships with the marine biology department for the summer. i was laughing as cameron shook his brunette curls dry from water from the dive we just came back from. the droplets of water landing on me and my orange bikini.

“cameron!” i squeal, pushing him away, “i swear to god i’ll throw you off this deck if you continue to shower me”

he laughs as he steals my beach towel to dry himself, “you know you love it.”

i roll my eyes before they land on a very familiar red jeep wrangler that parks by the dock. i lift my ray bands off the bridge of my nose and place them on top of my head, i squint harder to see if it was who i thought it was. as the driver door opens, my favourite 6’2 dirty blonde boy steps out — conrad fisher.

he sees me staring at him while standing in just my bikini before a large smile paints across his face. i don’t even notice jeremiah stepping out from the passenger seat as i start running sprinting towards conrad.

he meets me halfway, where the dock began. “oh my god!” i exclaim as i jump into his muscular football player arms. my arms wrap around his neck and legs around his waist as i hug him tightly. he smells like sea salt, coconut sunscreen, and a hint of weed.

conrad has his arms holding my torso as he spins us in circles, “hey beautiful, did you miss me?”

“more than anything” i tell him, lifting my head from the crook of his neck, “you know, nine months is too long to be away from you”

“you say that every year, sunshine” he chuckles, carefully placing me back onto my birkenstock covered feet. his green eyes flicker from my sunkissed face to my chest for a split second.

i feel myself blush at it. he’s grown up a lot since i last saw him in august. his shoulders are broader, his biceps are larger, and his hair is longer. i smile sweetly at him, “because it never changes.”

“alright that’s enough from you two lovebirds. you look great in orange, y/n!” jeremiah compliments me as he pulls me into a squeeze hug, “how are you?”

i hug him tightly, “i’m doing great! cameron and i have been busy since school ended with this marine biology internship — but we get to be by the ocean all day so i’m not complaining!”

jeremiah grind his infamous smile, “sounds like fun! you know, steven and i are working at the country club this summer. time to make some bank!”

i giggle before pulling the brothers into a group hug, “ugh, i’m so happy you guys are finally back! when are belly and steven coming?”

“tomorrow afternoon,” conrad says as we all pull apart. i motion them to follow me down to the dock,

“i want you guys to meet one of my best friends,” i explain as cameron looks up at us and offers a smile, “this is cam, well, cameron. he just moved here last september and we’ve been hanging out since. you know, he’s just as interested in marine biology as i am!”

little did i know, cameron having his arm hanging around my neck ignited a small spark in conrad’s stomach at the sight. conrad gives a weak smile, meanwhile jeremiah daps cam up,

“what’s good, cam cameron! i’m jeremiah” he laughs, “you know, you’re making my brother conrad jealous right now. you have your hands on his future wife”

cam’s eyes go huge, “oh shit! are you two dating? y/n, you never told me you have a boyfriend! that’s my bad, bro.” he quickly apologizes and removes his arm from my shoulders.

“fuck off, jere” conrad says to his younger brother.

i smack jeremiah’s shoulder playfully, “i do not have a boyfriend, i don’t know why jere is making up bull”

“you mind as well be married at this point, considering the amount of hours you two spend texting each other.” jeremiah shrugs as he picks up my colourful printed backpack, “let’s head back to our place, cam you can come too”

cam thanks jeremiah but turns down the offer due to being needed back at his home. the two exchange instagrams so they can make plans later in the summer. with that, cameron runs off to his bike and waves us all goodbye.

conrad and my eyes meet and i can’t help but feel my heart rate pick up at the eye contact. i know i’ve always thought conrad was cute and was more drawn to him, but this felt a lot more different compared to the previous summers together.

i called shotgun as we all raced back to the wrangler, jeremiah pouting as he sits in the back seats. i plug my phone in for aux and start playing my new summer playlist that i just started making.

what once was by hers starts playing loudly from the car stereo as the windows are down and rooftop of the jeep was removed. the sweet summer breeze flowing through the car and our hairs as we all sing our hearts out. conrad has a hand on my knee, massaging it with his thumb while he drives. i try to surprise the butterflies and the heat rising to my cheeks at his actions.

as he parks the car at the familiar white summer home, we all jump out as conrad exclaims to race to the kitchen. he claims that whoever is last is getting thrown into the pool first.

the two fisher boys had an unfair advantage because of their longer legs, thus being able to take longer strides. we make it into the kitchen where susannah stands, smiling her golden smile,

“y/n! sweetheart, look at you!” she coos, pulling me into a warm embrace. she smells like roses and fresh laundry as i hold her tightly, she whispers into my ear, “so when are you and connie making it official? i know how you two feel about each other and he speaks of you so often at home.”

i flush at her comment but smile on response, “it’s so good to see you, susannah.”

she caresses my cheek, “i swear, you get more and more gorgeous every time i see you. plus, that orange bikini top looks absolutely fabulous on you.”

“i look just the same as last summer,” i laugh, “and the summers before that.”

she rolls her eyes playfully, “oh sweetie, don’t brush off my compliments. i mean it, you are glowing! don’t you think, connie?” she asks, looking over at her older son who already has a slight blush across his cheeks.

he smiles, “yeah, yeah you do.”

jeremiah grabs my wrist and pulls me away from his mom, “stop trying to avoid you fate, y/n! time to get thrown into the pool!” he grins, tugging me towards the sliding glass doors.

i squeal as the two both have grips on my arms as i try my best to free myself, “oh, come on! at least let me take off my shorts and ray bands!”

they surprisingly allow me to do so, before conrad grabs my wrists and jeremiah grabs my ankles.

“1…” they count together, starting to swing me back and forth by the edge of the pool.

“2…” i squeeze my eyes shut, preparing myself for the cold pool water.

“3!”

i scream as i’m thrown into the air before splashing into the chlorine water. i swim to the surface of the water with a cheeky idea in mind, i grab a hold of my left ankle and distort my facial feature in discomfort,

“shit!” i cry out, taking a breath from being under water for a moment too long.

conrad immediately straightens up at the sight, “baby, what happened? are you okay?” he panics.

“y/n, are you good?” jeremiah asks, the two having obvious concern laced in their facial expressions.

i shake my head and fake a sob, “i think i sprained my ankle at the bottom of the pool.”

in seconds, conrad removes his burgundy tee shirt in one swift movement before diving into the water. his strong arms lifting me and bringing my legs to wrap around his waist, “fuck, i’m so sorry, pretty girl.” he breathes out, planting two kisses on my forehead, “let me see it.”

he swims us over to the edge of the pool where jeremiah once stood before he left to grab towels and an ice pack. conrad lifts me up effortlessly onto the pool side, beginning to inspect my left ankle,

“wait,” he pauses, noticing no swelling nor bruising.

i couldn’t hold in for much longer before i broke into laughter, “i’m sorry! you should’ve seen the look on your pretty face!”

his worry drops before splashing me with water, “you’re so lucky that i love you.”

i stop laughing and wipe my face dry from water before looking at him, “w- what?”

conrad’s eyes widen at the accidentally confession, “i mean… as a friend of course!”

my heart feels a slight tug at the correction but i smile weakly. why would he love me in the way that i feel towards him? i awkwardly laugh before kicking water back at him, and jumping back into the pool.

“ok good, i got worried for a second” i lie, swimming towards him. his hands subconsciously hold onto the curves of my hips, his green eyes looking deep into mine.

i known him for what feels like forever and i can read him like an open book, well typically. but right now, his expression is unreadable. i’m distracted by him, his hands on me, the explosion of butterflies in my gut, and my heart beating loudly in my ears.

his hand cups my cheek, both of our eyes fluttering close as he pulls me closer to his face. i can feel the slight minty feeling of his breath on my lips before,

“i got the ice!” jeremiah yells, with a loud slam of the glass door which caused conrad and i to jump away from each other.

we almost kissed.

i cant even look at my best friend right now, embarrassed with the bright pink colour of my cheeks as i swim over to jeremiah, “thanks” i say quietly, pretending to ice my ankle.

i watch conrad get out of the pool and dismiss himself to his room,

“did something happen?” jeremiah asks, completely lost and confused of the situation.