#I am biting my finger nails—I don’t know who’s writing it but the art is cute

[littledead-ridinghood]

Oh god Steph is apparently being put into a leadership/mentor role for a new teen team

I’m so scared, guys

🤞Oh pretty please don’t infantilize her 🤞that’s like my only wish right now and then I’ll start to aim higher. She’s a grown woman who (like many other adult female characters) DC often writes as much younger. I hope because she’s (supposed to be) in a leadership position, they’ll highlight her skill, experience, and maturity while also showing off how she can still have fun, find joy, and laugh/joke around but I’m also so nervous that they’ll just write her like she’s 16

[gghostwriter]

A Series of Happenstance

Spencer Reid x House!Daughter!Reader

Summary: The three times Spencer loathed to see you and the one time he pleaded to Trope:Angst; think post Tobias Spencer Reid w.c: 5.2k Disclaimer: I am no way a medical personnel, least of all a psychiatrist so there will be medical inaccuracies A/N: this is part one of my house!daughter series and it’s angst, babes. Spencer is just mean and lashing out here which is totally understandable. It also took a while since writing such heavy pieces of fiction takes a toll on me but I hope, especially to the ones who were excited for this series, love it still. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

The first meeting

Spencer didn’t want to be here—here being in this cream colored, four cornered room, facing off the ultimate nemesis of profiler. Not an unsolvable case, not an unsub, but rather a psychiatrist contracted by the FBI for psych evaluation. 

He was fine, he insisted to Hotch. He can compartmentalize well, he rationalized to Gideon. He just needed rest and the comfort of his own bed, he stated to the whole team. But protocols were protocols and his unit chief was a stickler to rules especially when it involved the care for his team. 

That was how he found himself on a Tuesday afternoon, sitting in silence and watching the ticking of the clock as if it was the most interesting piece of art there was. 

The tension was stifling. Spencer could almost see it tainting his vision red. Biting the insides of his cheek, he wanted to keep everything in. 

No, he needed to. 

He knew he was being rude, petulant even but for once, he didn’t have it in him to care. He didn’t know you. You were a complete stranger being paid by the government to report back any findings that could keep him out of the field. It wasn’t fair. You were just accepting the call of duty but you bore the brunt of his ire and hostile gaze. 

In the normal setting, he would have found you intriguing. Your office colored in taupe—cold, distant, and linked to the desire to escape from the world but in the farthest side of the room was a shelf littered with books and small knick knacks that seemed to be collected over the years rather than curated to match the professional setting. The books ranged from published psychology dissertations, medical teaching materials, and collections of essays from well-revered and obscure writers. 

You were dressed in black and white, standard for your importance, but your nails were painted in a pale pink color—close to looking natural but not quite. And lastly, your looks. 

You were beautiful, don’t get him wrong, he may not have the same experiences as Morgan did with the opposite sex but he knows a beautiful attractive woman when he sees one. No, it wasn’t that, it was how young you looked—almost or maybe even sharing the same age as him. 

A genius, then.

A prodigy in your own field just like him. 

“Doctor Reid,” the low timber of your voice bringing him out of his musings. It sent a shiver down his spine when he first heard you speak. A reaction that he catalogued in his mind as a mystery to be revisited later on. 

He subtly tilted his head to the side, an indication that you had his attention albeit reluctantly.

“Anything you say in this room is strictly confidential,” you gestured with your hand. “No file or notes will be passed to your unit chief or any personnels of the brass. I promise you.”

He scoffed, breaking his vow of silence. “That’s not a hundred percent true, Doctor. Lying to get your patient to talk can only get you so far.”

“I understand where you’re coming from but all I submit to the FBI is my conclusion if you’re fit to go back to work or not, patient-confidentiality still stands—” your delicate fingers feebly holding your pen. “Now, I sensed a little resentment. Is it coming from your self-loathing about having to choose a victim for Tobias Hankel or is it your displaced anger from separating with your team liaison, Agent Jareau?” 

He glared at you. How dare you imply the seething anger from within him is directed at anyone but himself. “What? No, no, no. I’m not angry at anything or anyone! Maybe at you and this whole evaluation but never at JJ or—” he cut himself off.

“The suspect,” you continued on for him, jotting down notes on your black leather journal.

“The unsub. Unknown subject.” He corrected, second nature of him to do so. “We call them the unsub.”

You nodded, a lock of hair falling away from your bun. A distracting motion that momentarily rendered him speechless. “Alright. Are you angry at yourself and your decision to separate with Agent Jareau during the case?”

He scoffed but opted to stay silent. Spencer had already given too much of his emotion away by answering the earlier questions. 

For any regular citizen, it may seem like the opposite but given the sound of you scribbling away on the pages of the notebook, you beg to differ.

You crossed your pant covered leg and stared into his eyes, a maneuver that could mean two things: 1) you were sizing him up, which was highly unlikely given the dynamics, regardless of his hostility or 2) you were trying to connect with him, a move backed by science that stated eye contact releases oxytocin—a bonding hormone. 

A study he didn’t want to prove right at the moment.

“Do you perhaps feel remorse for the unsub?”

His left eye twitched. “Tobias Hankel.”

“Is there a reason behind why you’d prefer to call the unsub by name?” You further asked, having found a sore subject to poke and prod to elicit a reaction.

The answer was yes, of course. Tobias was just a victim as much as he, Spencer Reid, was—the unsub, in his eyes, was a victim of bad fate that resulted in fracturing his psyche but a shrink didn’t need to know that. 

To be exact, the FBI didn’t need to know that he, an active and upstanding agent, felt remorse and guilt for not being able to save Tobias. Human emotion rarely had a place in bureaucracy and paperwork.

“How old are you?” Spencer nonchalantly inquired to throw you off his trail. “You look too young to be a Doctor contracted by the brass.”

You scribbled something again in your notebook before answering in a monotone voice as if your reply has been well rehearsed. “24, about to turn 25 and yes, I do look young. I graduated early due to my intelligence which I believe is the same case for you, Doctor—” you clasped your hands in front of you, leaning slightly forward. “—which brings us back to the topic, the anger inside of you, who is it directed to?”

His eyes shifted to the clock—5pm. 

A small smile graced his face. The time was up.

“Well, I believe we’re done here, Doctor—” he proceeded to stand up, picking on an imaginary lint as he did so. “—I would say it’s been nice meeting you but that would be a lie you’d no doubt catch and analyze.”

Your lips pressed thinly together, imitating a smile but Spencer knew that move quite well—you were reining in any unsolicited and possibly inappropriate comment regarding his snappy behavior. 

A small chuckle escaped his lips. If he, a profiler, considered you, a psychiatrist, his number one nemesis, there was no doubt you consider him the same. 

As he was about to step out of the office, your slender fingers brandished a calling card.

“Here’s my number—” he gingerly took it as if it contained some unknown pathogen. “—and my door is always open when you’re ready to talk, Doctor Reid.”

He nodded once, a goodbye. “Doctor House.”

There was little doubt in Spencer’s mind that he’d never willingly stop by your office again but if he had been paying attention to your subtle patronizing words of farewell, he would have picked up that this encounter was far from over. 

Especially when he found out on a busy Tuesday morning from Hotch that you had deemed him unfit to return back to the field—effectively barring him from the jet on its way to Idaho. 

The second meeting

There was a series of rapid knocks on your office door. 

As a psychiatrist with your own practice, it was highly unusual for clients to suddenly show up with no prior appointments or even a customary phone call. 

It was a Tuesday morning and like clockwork, you’ve allotted the first half of the day in catching up with paperwork dealing with your office and evaluations for the FBI. 

That gave you a pause, remembering a snipping agent who you deemed unfit for duty. Dr. Spencer Reid. The genius profiler who joined the ranks at the tender age of 22. A prodigy in his old field, just like you.

He was closed off, simmering with rage almost, and there was little doubt in your mind that he was the one behind the door, ceaselessly knocking. After all, when you sent in your evaluation directly to his unit chief, the stoic man’s face twitched with concern and maybe a little bit of annoyance in the paperwork it would entail.

“Come in,” you called out, hands clasping together on top of your desk. A perfect picture of professionalism.

The door swung open, revealing a tightly wounded Dr. Spencer Reid. 

With a thick cardigan adorning on his body and a leather satchel draped over his shoulders to his front, he looked normal. But you knew better, his choice of outerwear represented a security blanket in the middle of September and his placement of satchel acted as a shield and its’ straps a stress ball. With just that one look you knew he wasn’t ready to back with his team. 

“Dr. Reid, what can I do for you?” You asked, hand unclasping and indicating to the seat in front of you. “Please sit.” 

Closing the door behind him, he shuffled closer to your desk but made no indication to sit down. “I’d rather stand, Dr. House, and I think you know why I’m here.”

A show of dominance. Right away, he wanted control the outcome of this conversation to his favor. It was textbook psychology, a taunt you wanted no part of.

A slight smile appeared on your face, one that could be translated as friendly for those open and condescending for those closed off. “I believe I don’t follow.” 

“My evaluation, you made a mistake,” the left corner of his mouth lifting for a smirk. There was a vein visible on his temple, his anger and will to bottle it up manifesting physically. 

You tilted your head to the side, unwavering in your gaze, hands clasped and index fingers tapping together. The pause and silence was a standard tactic to get a patient to break, similar to what law enforcement uses with suspects but results may vary especially when used on a seasoned profiler.

Right away, Spencer understood your tactic. “That won’t work. We use that in every case, I know the standard—” he looked around the room. “—should I lower the temperature too?” 

You answered with silence. The agent in front of you now was no longer thinking clearly. His objective mind that would deem him fit to return for duty clouded with emotion, anger and something else. 

His right hand touched above his left wrist. A subconscious move provoked by your unrelenting gaze. A move that gave away an important piece of information that his unit chief no doubt omitted in the reports.

Ah.

Tobias Hankel was a drug addict.

And in turn has subjected the agent in front of you to his vices.

You sighed. Suddenly the case no longer felt black and white, it was treading close to home as you remembered your father who’s abusing Vicodin in lieu of his leg pain. It was a sore spot for you—a clink in your armor. 

“Sit, please,” you indicated to the chair in front of you again.

Spencer complied this time, having heard a change in your tone. 

“Dr Reid,” you started. “I believe my evaluation of you is still correct—”

He opened his mouth to argue.

“—but, please let me finish, perhaps we can compromise. As a psychiatrist, it’s not in my practice to give in to my client’s demands but as you are not a regular client, I believe it would be beneficial for the both of us to reach an understanding.”

You walked towards the locked cabinet to your right. It was where you kept all medical equipments—including medicine for patients. Reaching back to the depths of the lower shelf, your hand brought out a non-descriptive black pouch from its hiding. You sat beside Spencer, effectively communicating that you are both on the same level.

“I will approve your return for duty as long as you come back for a couple of sessions, not FBI contracted, strictly confidential, and you—” handing him the zipped pouch before continuing on. “—get drug tested.”

Spencer narrowed his eyes. Perhaps he knew that his unit chief and mentor kept the delicate nature of his case out of the bureau and wondered how you pieced everything together. He underestimated you, you realized. A mistake on his end. 

“I’m a psychiatrist, I know the signs Dr. Reid, and besides, I’m a genius just like you,” you adjusted your posture, slightly leaning back. 

Check. 

He smiled, one that you could say no longer contained malice. It was instead filled with resignation and relief. “You’re right. I underestimated you, Dr. House.”

Standing up, you dusted imaginary lint from your black pencil skirt before extending your hand out for a handshake. 

He hesitated before reaching over shaking it once. His hands were rough and calloused from frequent holding of his gun but felt oddly warm and soothing. It represented who he was in your eyes—prickly and rough around the edges but soft and good on the inside.

As he exited your office with a soft thud of the door behind him, you admitted to yourself that you took a huge gamble. Rather than a checkmate, all you did was check his king. You didn’t ask if he had built his own stash of drugs after the case was finished. It was a risk you were willing to take just to take a step closer in getting the agent to trust you. Baby steps were better than nothing. You could work with that.

There was still the drug test you could rely on. A black and white piece of paper that would tell the truth if done at the right time. After all, the most important teaching your father, the older Dr. House, has imparted on you was—

Everybody lies.

The third meeting

The bar at the corner Main Street on a Friday night was a rare place for you to be. The echoes of its pulsing music could be heard a couple of shops away, luring bodies than the space could ever handle like it were Pied Piper and the people—by extension, you, were the unsuspecting kids. The lights were colored orange, giving the area a tint of good times and bad decisions. The aged brick walls discolored in a multitude of shades and the decorative posters were aimlessly nailed to the wall. There was a section far from the bar that was filled with moving bodies—people letting loose and exhibiting what you’d call a mating dance for anyone interested and beside the bar were two dart boards, popular with the crowd, but had seen better days. 

This wasn’t your usual scene as you excused your way to the bar tucked at the center space. It wasn’t due to snobbery, like what your friend Kyle once joked, it was preference.

The sticky floor beneath your sensible nude heels had you wishing that your feet were tucked in a soft blanket with mind numbing television playing in the background instead of navigating the throng of people holding their drink of choice and inhaling the musky scent of liquor and sweat.

“Haven’t seen you around here,” a tenor voice flirted from beside you.

Your eyebrow raised as you took in the source—a burly African-American with a buzzcut. There was something distinct about him that set him apart from the rest. It wasn’t his built or the way his grey shirt stretched to fit around his biceps. It also wasn’t the twinkle in his eye as he tried to entice you to flirt back. One of his hands drifted down to his waist and with his wide leg stance, you knew.

A cop. An off duty law enforcement officer.

You laughed. “Does that line usually work on women, especially from—” you paused for suspense. ”—a cop?”

“Okay,” the stranger chuckled. “Close, want to try again?”

A smile stretched your glossed pink lips. You were never one to back away from a challenge—it was one of the traits you inherited from the other Dr House.

“Well, if we’re basing it on where the bar is located nearby and my fifty percent guess from a while ago, I’d say you were a cop—maybe for a couple of years, before joining the FBI. Maybe counter terrorism—” the memory of Dr. Reid talking about his team found its way to the forefront of your mind. “—or by any chance, the BAU?”

He could no longer hide the surprise from his face. “Right, that’s right. What gave it away? Was it my ruggedly handsome looks or are you just a mind reader?”

You thanked the bartender before trying to find your way out of the surge of people behind you, clamoring to place their order. The stranger stretched out his muscular arms, guiding you away from the bar towards his booth.

“Just a mind reader,” you simplified—an action that came as second nature to you. In the past, when you would disclose your job as a psychiatrist, people would react in two ways. One, they’d get subconscious that you’d read into every body language they’d have, causing them to shy away or two, they’d become over-zealous and ask you to diagnose them all in good fun like it was some sort of magician’s trick.

A mop of light brown curly hair parked beside a long blonde hair caught your periphery. He had his back turned but it was a presence you’ve slowly started getting familiar with. It was Dr. Spencer Reid, out in the natural setting, a first.

Your eyes slowly widened as you realized where he was guiding you and who he might be. 

“Huh,” you uttered under your breath before flashing a smile to the stranger beside you. “Are you by any chance, Derek Morgan?”

“Okay, now you’re starting to freak me out. How’d you do that, Ms. Mind Reader?”

A different timber of voice answered. “It’s because I told her—” a pair of hazel eyes turned to you, filled with accusation. “—Dr. House. Are you keeping tabs on me?” 

“Dr. Reid, I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

He scoffed. “In a bar? Near my office? The statistics on seeing me here is actually surprisingly high.”

He was hostile, understandably so as here you were, a stranger, who knows his deepest, darkest secret mixing in with the otherwise innocent parties of his personal life. It was no harm, caused no click in your armor—he’d been cooperative as of the late within the confines of your office but seeing you beyond the four corners of your taupe walls threw him off the loop.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t think I caught your name,” the blonde woman beside Spencer, flashed you a smile, hand stretching out for a handshake. “I’m Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ.”

You shook her hand. “Ah, it’s great to meet you, Agent Jareau.” 

“So, how do you know Spence?”

You smiled, unsure on how to disclose your psychiatrist-patient relationship with someone he works with. You didn’t know how much his team members knew about his scheduled Saturday meetings with you or if they even knew at all what Dr. Reid was going through.

From the past appointments, you’ve categorized the agent as an anxious avoidant type—something geniuses who grew up in a non-secure household tend to share. Yourself, included.

Your eyes glanced at Spencer before drifting towards the table behind him, subtly trying to figure out his choice of drink. You hoped it was non-alcoholic. He’d be suffering from withdrawals and if he clung to a substitute vice, you’d have to find a roundabout way to tackle the issue without pushing him to close off again. You didn’t need that, he was just starting to open up after all, plus if he stopped cooperating, you’d have no choice but to bring it up to his supervisors, jeopardizing his career. 

A clear glass came into view as he shuffled his weight from one foot to the other.

Water. It was water.

You breathed a sigh of relief before slowly panning up, locking eyes with Dr. Reid. His gaze narrowed, having understood what you were checking on.

Checkmate.

“She’s FBI’s contracted psychiatrist,” he explained, jaw tight from anger. 

You flashed him a little smile before averting your eyes in chagrin.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you look a little to young to be a licensed doctor,” Agent Jareau observed. 

“I graduated early.”

Morgan’s left hand pats your back while the other pats Dr. Reid’s. “Another genius, then. You’d get along great with our pretty boy over here. He’s always going on and on about facts and statistics—“

“No offense Morgan, but I don’t think we’d get along at all,” Spencer sneered. “I’d rather not get to know someone who has an ulterior motive.”

Your hand tightened around your glass. “It’s great to meet you, Agent Jareau and Agent Morgan but I think my friends would be looking for me,” you flashed the young agent a dejected smile. “Dr. Reid, hope to see you again soon.”

“I don’t,” he sardonically replied.

You nodded once before turning back to where you friends would be, settled in the four seater booth, unaware that you may have just burned the rocky bridge you’ve built with a patient in need. 

The fourth meeting

A warbled hum roused you from slumber. 

With one eye straining to stay open, the digital clock on your dresser displayed 12:21. Midnight—the time for humans to all be in stupor but based on the humming, subdued underneath your pillow, there was one exception.

You sat up, blindly reaching for the phone. There was no programmed name for the number and right away, an eerie feeling started swirling in your gut. This was no social call. A call this hour could only be one thing, an emergency.

“Hello. Who is this?” Your voice still rough from sleep.

No answer. 

You pressed the phone closer to your ear, hard enough to possibly leave a mark. There were light rustles on the other end that indicated a presence, a person that wouldn’t or couldn’t answer your inquiry.

“Hello,” you tried again, voice raising at the end from tension. “Is anyone there?”

There was silence. The dread in your stomach further worsening as if group of bats decided to wreak havoc in its dark crevices. There was no indication that this was a prank call and there was also no indication that it wasn’t. 

You bit your lip, torn between hanging up and waiting for an existence to make itself known. It could be nothing or it could be—your train of thought suddenly taking a sharp left turn to the corner that a certain FBI agent unknowingly occupies. You had given him your number, having scrawled it at the back of your calling card during the very first meeting, purely out of the goodness of trying to put back the broken genius that graced and intrigued your doors.

“Dr. Spencer Reid?” You hesitantly asked, hoping that your intuition was wrong. That this wasn’t the agent calling for help.

A deep groan answered.

“Oh gods,” you breathed out. “Okay, okay. Just—shit, just stay on the line. I’m coming, I swear. Just—fuck.” Your feet scrambled out of the apartment, never mind the lights or the chill that the midnight had cloaked the air with.

It was your worst nightmare. You knew what this call was, you knew his state on the other side of the phone by experience.

Hands trembling as you started the ignition of your car and speedily backing up the parking lot and out the streets in little time. 

“Spencer,” formality be damned at this point as you turned a sharp right, your GPS indicating 8 minutes away from destination. “Spencer, are you still there?” 

A light rustle replied. 

“I’m almost there, hang on for me, okay,” your hand letting go of the steering wheel to push the tousled hair away from your face.

Each second felt like an eternity, each time passed threatened to push your mind into the fog of panic and memory of your very own father taking a whole bottle of Oxycodone and leaving a message for you and your grandmother. The panic, the fear, and the dread of that very moment had come back in two folds.

Your clammy fingers leaving pinch marks on the back of your palm. “Not now, not now,” you whispered to yourself. “I can’t have an attack now, keep it together.” 

“Dr. House,” Spencer gravely slurred.

You haphazardly parked the car at the nearest available sidewalk space, uncaring if by some miracle you get ticketed. “I’m here, Spencer. I’m here.”

There was a groan as you hurriedly ran up the apartment stairs, grateful that the security below was surprisingly lax.

Third floor, get to the third floor. I need to get to the third floor—you repeated under your breath. You could have called an ambulance or better yet his team member, SSA Derek Morgan, but you felt the urge to make sure he was alright. To make him see that someone else besides from his mother and team care about him. To make him see that life was worth living, no matter the good or the bad.

“Spencer, I’m outside your door,” you tried to catch your breath. “Do you think you could let me in?”

And for a few seconds, there was only the tense silence before a series of gasps and groans crescendo’ed louder and louder from the phone speaker and on the other side of the door. 

Shit. You knew what those grunts of pain and pleas meant, he was seizing.

Slamming down on the ground, uncaring if your exposed knees get bruised, you sent a silent thank you to your past self for leaving a hair pin inside the pockets of your sleep shorts. Breaking and entering was yet another skill set you learned from the other Dr House and his team of skilled doctors, you just never imagined you’d be applying that knowledge in breaking and entering a federal agent’s home. 

The door unlocked and you barreled your way to the living space where a frightful sight greeted you—Spencer on the floor, laying still as if he was peacefully sleeping.

“No, no, no,” you slid beside him, mind cataloguing every detail for the right action. An empty needle near his exposed right arm and an empty glass bottle of Dilaudid.

No rise and fall of the chest.

And no pulse. Medical training kicking in, you tilted his head up, clearing the pathway, and started chest compressions.

One. Two. Three—

“C’mon, Spencer, breathe,” you grunted in between pumps.

One. Two. Three. Four—

You leaned down to his chapped lips, blowing air to his mouth. “I need you to breathe for me, okay. Breathe, Spencer.” 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five—

“Breathe, c’mon Spencer,” you knew there was a high probability for the agent to have his own stash of narcotics and in by agreeing to keep his secret, lest he loses his badge, to get him to open up was a gamble. A risk you were now regrettably paying for.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six—

“Dammit Spencer, I could lose my license for this. Breathe, I need you to breathe.”

A sputtering of coughs escaped his lips.

“Oh thank you, thank you,” you breathed out, arms sagging from the pressure of performing CPR and the weight of fear that you might have been too late. 

Spencer groaned. “Dr. House?”

You nodded, the salty tears blurring your vision. The image of him lying still was burned into your memory, the same way the mirage of your own father lying in a pool of his own vomit. He’s alive—they’re both alive.

Your hands angrily erased the rivulets the tears left behind on your cheeks. Now wasn’t the time to give in to relief and emotion. Although Spencer was out of the woods, there was still a huge uphill battle to tackle. 

“I’ll carry you to bed, lean your weight on me,” you huffed as you helped him up the floor, making sure to take in most of his weight that you could.

The form of you, tears still streaming down your face and steps away from a breakdown, and his hunched form, weak and pliant, was a sight to behold. It was a sight after battle—after the white flag had been waved and the injured tying their best to find their way back to life.

It was sad. It was hopeful.

It was a brush on humanity’s eternal friend, death. Death that still loomed in the corners of the apartment, biding his time to take what was promised.

You laid him gently on the bed before running back to the spied kitchen, grabbing a glass of water. The smell of books permeated the air as if to try and bring your panicked mind back to the present. If it were any other day, you would have found yourself perusing his shelves of eclectic classic literature but this wasn’t the right time and place.

Your bare feet sliding across the floor to make its way back to the groaning figure on the bed, threatening to sit up.

“No,” you tapped his shoulder to get him back down. “I need you to rest.” 

“But—”

“No buts Spencer. Rest, I’ll stay here.” 

His drooping eyes reading yours, trying to find any type of lie that would break his being further than it already was. Spencer was a broken man and this was the first time you could see written in his eyes his plea for help and company. “You promise?”

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” 

His hands blindly groping across the bed spread before it found the treasure it was searching for, your hand. He enveloped his with yours, calloused fingers intertwining with smooth. A contrast that brought him comfort—you were here. You were real. You felt safe. You saved him.

He was alive.

And with that, his eyes closed to fall into a peaceful slumber, one that he hadn’t had in months. 

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

nugatory | p.jm. | drabble

pairing: jimin x reader (ft. taehyung)

rating: m (18+)

genre: smut | angst | college!au

summary: Park Jimin is many things. Park Jimin is a responsible, smart, handsome and musically talented Taekwondo black belt. Park Jimin is Kim Taehyung's best friend. Park Jimin is a good friend. Park Jimin is a compulsive matchmaker. Park Jimin is many things – but he is not the guy you should be sitting in a car with, right now.

warnings: swearing + sexual situations (nudity, semi-public sexual acts in a car, fingering, penetrative sex) + possible allusions to some infidelity if you squint?

word count: 3.2 k

note: y’all. i couldn’t let butter!jimin keep ruining my life without acting out a bit, could i? this one started off as a pwp, but then i ended up combining it with a plot i had in my head for a while, and this turned into more plot and less porn, but. i’m okay with that, tbh. also! i’ve used one my older styles of writing (going back to 2016-ish) with this one. hope you all like it~ 🥺💜

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

Park Jimin is many things.

He is an astoundingly handsome, cheerful – and yet somehow mysterious – psychology major that you shared Freshman year's communications class with. He is the only rich kid among the majority on campus that doesn't flaunt his wealth to scholarship kids like you. He is kind, helpful, generous – did you mention handsome? – perfectly athletic and perfectly aesthetic.

Park Jimin is a responsible, smart, handsome and musically talented Taekwondo black belt.

He is also someone that gets excited at the prospect of claw machines at fairs. He is also someone that looks at the universe with galaxies in his eyes. He is also someone that doesn’t realize he will always be more exquisite than any art his best friend might ever create.

Park Jimin is Kim Taehyung's best friend.

He is the guy that stood next to Kim Taehyung when Taehyung asked you to the Freshman dance. He is the guy that told you Kim Taehyung has the most gigantic crush on you. He is the guy that set you up on the first of your many dates with Kim Taehyung.

Park Jimin is a good friend.

Park Jimin is a compulsive matchmaker.

Park Jimin is many things – but he is not the guy you should be sitting in a car with, right now.

"You really don't have to worry about me, Jimin," you mumble, eyes flickering all over his face – you always tend to drink him up the best you can, whenever you can. “I know I stupidly called you here, but I was just in shock. I’m okay, now. I’ll be fine.”

"No, I do have to worry." His fingers thread through his hair, your eyes hopelessly follow. "This was stupid and reckless of Tae. I'm sure he'll come back to his senses soon."

You blink. Jimin really has absolutely no grasp of this situation. But he obviously thinks he knows everything, which is making this conversation progressively difficult.

(His muscles bulging beneath his jeans and the t-shirt he wears are a contributing factor in making this conversation difficult, too, you won't lie.)

You breathe out, partly to collect your thoughts, and partly because you've been inhaling too much of his heady cologne and it’s making you think about—

Things. 

It's making you think about things. That you should have no business thinking about. Because you and his best friend have been going on dates. The same best friend who is currently, as you speak, on a date with someone else. Alluding to the reason why you have called up Park Jimin to see you in a confused panic, after ten, at night, at your place.

"Taehyung – he, um. He didn't see us going anywhere. We'd been on nine dates, but… He said he didn't think I was actually as into him as he is into me. He didn't want to go on like that." 

Jimin’s lips part. His brows hike up. You shrug, forcing your gaze away from the gloss on his lips.

“It’s been that way for a while. We were barely even texting. I think he has concluded that I don’t like him like that.”

Jimin rests his forearm on the steering wheel, almost leaning over the center console to catch your gaze. "Do you?"

His eyes pull you in like always and you're lost, just staring into their depths, as your mind ceases to think up thoughts that don't involve you and him naked and tangled up with each other in—

"Sweetheart?"

Your intake of breath is sharp, short and cold. Your insides are just as warm, turning everything in your head into incomprehensible mush. "Y–y–yeah?"

"Are you into Taehyung the way he is into you?" he whispers, and you follow the shape of his lips as they move. “Because you must know, he’s liked for a whole semester.”

You lick your lips, mindlessly nod, and then reach out with a finger to trace his cupid's bow. He doesn't pull away, he doesn't even flinch. "What do you think?"

His warm breath washes over your fingertip as you press it against his lower lip. His body jolts when your nail rims the plush cushion. "I… think he's my bestest friend in the world and he's basically in love with you…"

You shake your head, and your other hand travels past the console to grip his thigh. Your nails dig in. His breath catches. "He's on a date with someone else, as we're speaking."

"I just—he was so into you, I thought you'd be good for each other." 

Past the cloud of, well, something incomprehensible, there is disappointment in Jimin's gaze. And that is how you know he means it. You shouldn't be surprised, really, because Park Jimin always means everything he does, he doesn't have a single conniving bone in his body, but you still are. Part of you has hoped against hope that he set you up with Taehyung to get closer to you, himself. Which – sounds like a really flawed plan and doesn't really make much sense, now that you think about it.

But you still hoped.

Now—

Now, though. Now you know otherwise.

"How can I be good for someone else when I have never even been good for me?" you don't know why you confessed to that, but the words just tumble out of you and you let them. "I'm a mess, Jimin," you whisper, accentuating your point by massaging his lower lip by your index finger. "I destroy people, and I nearly destroy myself in the process. I am an emotional and psychological train wreck. He's better off without me. Anybody would be better off without me."

Jimin grips your hand on his thigh with his own. “Not anybody,” he murmurs, and through his furrowed brows and muddled eyes, you catch an emotion you have been well acquainted with for years, now.

Longing.

Your heartbeat picks up as Jimin massages small circles on the back of your hand. You remove your other hand from his face.

“Yes, Jimin, anybody,” you say with conviction, even as you desperately hope for him to offer himself up as an alternative. “Everything is a wreck inside of my head. I can’t do relationships, I can’t even date someone without messing up.”

His pupils expand and his tongue flicks at his lower lip. His hand tightens in a grip on your other hand. His gorgeously bleached hair curl over the side of his head. "You don’t have to date, then.”

You scoff. “Taehyung would never go for—”

“I’m not talking about Taehyung,” Jimin’s voice comes out three octaves lower. “And you’re not talking about just anybody.”

You nearly stop breathing as he brings his free hand to your face, pushes a tendril of your hair behind your ear and traces a knuckle down the side of your face, your jaw, to hold your chin.

“You say you’re not good for you. Can you try to be good for me, then?" He pulls your face closer to his. “Would you let me save you from destroying yourself? Let me try to take care of the wreckage, hmm?”

Your body spasms when he reaches for the hand you’d retracted, pecks your finger before pulling it into his mouth. His tongue swirls, his teeth scrape and his eyes roll back as he sucks. He lets go with a pop. 

Boy, would you let him take care of whatever he wants.

"Can you, sweetheart? Can you be good for me?" He sounds like he’s at the brink of something, just teetering on the edge, waiting for you to flick a finger before he free-falls.

Well. You’ve been teetering for years now.

"I want to be.” You don’t sound like yourself when you speak.

And you don't sound like yourself when he pulls you on top of him. You don’t sound like yourself when your back hits the wheel, your thighs cage his, your hands instinctively twirl in his hair, and –

Your core presses up against his length. 

He's hard and straining against his tighter than sin jeans. You claw at his t-shirt. He takes it off in a swift, smooth motion — agile and rhythmic in everything he does.

You don’t feel like yourself when your eyes feast him. Because how could you ever get this lucky? How could you ever get to feel Park Jimin’s shirtless self beneath you? You had long since succumbed to your destiny of perishing in pining.

And yet, here you are.

You lean back to marvel at his toned, chiseled angles, you let your fingers smooth over every groove and crevice and line of sinew muscle you can reach. You trace his tight abdomen, nails scraping at the last of his eight-pack before veering towards his toned v-line. You shiver at the dark promises it leads to, looking up to meet his eye. And you shiver more when his feral gaze catches you.

Then he pulls you into a kiss and you're lost.

He tastes like stale coffee and breath mints and bad decisions –

He tastes delicious.

His tongue plunders your mouth, teeth bite into your lips—he pulls, pushes, drinks up, feasts. You throw your all into the kiss, meeting him in the middle with your tongue swirling with his, teeth latching on to suck at it. He groans into your mouth – all loud, and guttural and manly. And then he stops. Pulls away.

His wholly black eyes dig into yours. His lips are wet, swollen and bitten. You did that.

"You have to at least talk to him—"

"I have another important business to tend to, currently."

You grind against him and make your point. He bites down on his lip. His arms snake around your waist to cage you against him, he pulls you down on him. 

You don't recognize yourself when you moan.

Your shirt is off, your shorts are pulled down and your panties are pushed to a side—

"You can never tell him." Park Jimin glides two fingers over your wetness, making a bigger mess of you. "Never."

You don't intend to, because what you do with Park Jimin in your apartment's parking lot at eleven pm on a Saturday night is nobody's business but yours. 

His fingers part your entrance and slide in you abruptly, and you see stars. Your head tilts back on a long, drawn out moan, Jimin’s fingers picking up pace inside you. You rock on his hand, you claw at his arm, you desperately latch onto his shoulders and rest your forehead against his to ground yourself. He watches you with his half shuttered eyes threatening to eat you up whole. 

His lips press into yours, tongue swiping through your mouth, curling up behind your teeth – it's messy, it's sloppy, it's the most arousing kiss of your life.

His lips drag down the column of your neck, tongue licking at the sweat droplets quickly gathering above your collarbones, his fingers curl inside you, his teeth latch onto your shoulder.

You explode under his thumb's press against your clit and sob into his neck when he drags its nail over the sensitive bud. “Jimin, Jimin, too much~ ah!”

He presses some buttons in his fancy car and his seat inclines. He pulls you to the backseat with him. “You okay?” he breathes on your face, hovering inches above you.

“Never been better,” you truthfully breathe back, heart coiling in your chest at the radiant grin he rewards you with in response.

A blast of hot air hits your forehead, your thighs and your shins. You jump, realizing he has turned some sort of hot air blower on. “For privacy,” he says, gesturing to the rapidly fogging windows, and then flicks a switch to make the air stop.

You both gaze at each other. Your eyes flicker all over his face to save every last bit of it to memory. You self-consciously swallow when you see him do the same. “Jimin…”

He leans down to sponge a kiss to your sternum, and then your hips buck into his as his tongue licks a path on the wells of your breasts peeking above your bra. A breathless moan leaves you when he scrapes his teeth over your cloth covered nipple.

You both pause for a moment, wide eyes locking in surprise.

And then you’re ravenous.

He strips you bare when you tug at his belt, and you rush to return the favor. You struggle with getting his boxers past his plump ass as he grips onto your flesh, peppering bites down your hips, squeezes your boobs, licks at your nipples—

You grip him, warm and heavy, and glide your thumb over the leaking tip. His head falls into your nape, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. “Jimin, ple~ase,” you moan.

He plucks out a golden foil from his wallet, meeting your eyes as he tears the packet and rolls the condom onto himself. 

Your hands are pinned next to your head in a flash, his tongue teases your pulse point, teeth toy with your earlobe, and you writhe in want under him, eyes watering at the sweet torture.

And then he fills you up with a single thrust.

You freeze on a gasp.

His hair hangs over his eyes, irises lost to the lust storming in his pupils, his mouth gapes open, his chest is heaving.

“You good?” His voice is deeper than the ocean.

You've never been more turned on in your life.

He hisses at your frantic nod. “Words.”

“Yes. Yes, oh my God, Jimin, move—”

He thrusts into you at an unforgiving pace. Your whole world literally tilts off its axis as he meets that spot inside of you, and your body wrings beneath him, twisting up to hold onto some buoy to ground you, but he is unrelenting even as you grip at his neck — his teeth encase his lower lip, brows furrow and eyelids flutter as he drives deep into you.

You groan at the sight, moving your hips to meet him. You rock with him, never catching your breath, and your nails just dig dig dig into his meaty back, drawing patterns all over the smooth, delicious surface.

Your release closes in on you, and you chase it with your mouth clamping onto Jimin’s neck, your eyes screwed shut as you groan into his skin, until—

He draws back, standing on his knees above you like goddamn Adonis in this goddamn huge SUV of his, and the sight of sweat droplets trailing down his neck, framing his pecs and racing down his tight abs has your whine of protest dying in your throat as you gawk. His lips are parted as he breathes, a couple of sweat soaked hair strands sticking to his brow, and his eyes — 

Oh God, his eyes have an animalistic gleam in them as he hooks his arms beneath your knees, and drags your hips to him.

You cry out when he enters you at this angle, every thrust pushing at what feels like your cervix, and the pleasure is so blinding it's almost painful. One of his hands maneuvers to your center, a finger rubbing at your clit, and you yelp out a distorted version of his name, completely unwarned when waves over waves of hot, sweet, toe curling climax crash into you.

Jimin chases you into completion, his broken moan of your name filtering to you through the post-orgasmic buzzing in your head. His lips connect with yours as he relaxes your legs. You both pant into each other's mouth after two, lethargic, sticky kisses.

Your sweaty bodies make a disgusting sound when you detach, and both of you scowl together, laughing when you catch each other’s expressions. You sit up on jelly legs, barely able to sit on your ass when your sensitive center protests. 

You both dress up in silence, although you don’t feel it to be awkward in the least.

You’re still mulling over how to frame in words what you have felt for him for nearly three years, how to tell him and even what to tell him when you’re such a relationship-phobe, when Jimin releases a long sigh.

You look up in surprise. That was not a contented sound. It was one of… was it defeat?

Jimin looks at you with a serious face.

Your heart plummets.

One of the many things that make up Park Jimin is also his brutal morality. And right now, you can see it in his face that he thinks he’s done something wrong. Your shoulders hunch up in subconscious defense — you will not say a word, you decide.

“Taehyung is my best friend in this entire world,” he begins, stomping firmly on any remaining embers of hope left in your chest. “He can never, ever, ever know this happened, okay?”

You give a numb nod.

“I’m sure he’ll come back around and try to talk to you again. If that happens, don’t feel like you owe me anything, okay?”

You look up to find Jimin’s eyes searching your face. He looks so soft and grave and sad, that it hurts to look at him. You look down and nod again.

“I — I feel like you two will happen, you know, when the time is finally right.” His words sound stiff. Practiced, even. “Don’t let this come in the way of that.”

Even though you decided you wouldn’t say anything, your mouth is nearly bubbling with too much to say, at this point. You take a deep breath. “And what if he doesn’t come back. What then, Jimin?”

Jimin looks at you with wide, clueless eyes. “He…will. At some point.”

“And what about until he comes back? Am I expected to wait around?”

Something crumples in his expressions. “No, of course not. You can do whatever you want. Even after he comes back, you don’t owe anybody anything.”

“Whatever I want, you say?” you ask him quietly, your heart thudding in your throat.

Jimin swallows, obviously catching on. “I mean…I guess?”

“You guess?”

He licks his lips and his gaze zeroes in on yours. “Whatever you want, yes. Certainly.”

“Great.” You take his acquiescence for what it is, and grab his wrist. “Okay, then. Until he comes back, right?”

Jimin nods, haltingly, gaze switching between your hand and your eyes. “Right.”

You feign a smile you don’t actually feel because something about this doesn’t sit right with you. This boy, you realize, deserves a lot more than being someone’s dirty little secret. He is Park Jimin, after all, a guy that is so many things that you could never run out of listing them and— 

Park Jimin is a gorgeous celestial metaphor in himself.

Because he may look at the universe with galaxies in his eyes, but he is your only galaxy, and all your stars shine at you through him when he smiles. 

Park Jimin is many things — but he is not the guy you want to just casually fuck.

But your pathetic self would take anything he would allow.

And so you pull his hand and stumble out of his SUV, sharing shy glances with him as you pull him with you up the stairs, all the way to your dorms.

Park Jimin is many things—

To you.

nugatory (adj.) – worth nothing or of little value.

[rainieclown]

DEADLY OBSESSION

michael myers x reader - chapter one: new neighbours

you've been in the haddonfield memorial hospital for what felt like forever with ptsd from a robbery gone wrong when a new patient gets thrown in next to you. he's quiet, perfect company if it weren't for the high security around him.

tags: medication, hospital settings, this is before michael gets out of the hospital, orphan! reader btw, it's spoken about more in detail in the fic, michael being a mute for a while, he does speak in this tho, smut, first times, michael being inexperienced, creampie, biting/marking, big dick michael energy, hymen ripping btw

warnings: ptsd themes, therapy, mentions of murder and depression, eventual smut, loss of virginity, mild blood, slight breeding kink on michael's end

a quick note!

if anything related to the ptsd the reader experiences is incorrect/wrong please let me know so i can correct it and learn! i am researching this so i can to write it with the accuracy it deserves<3

three sharp knocks wake you from your nightmare, you sigh at the sight of the ceiling of your hospital room. bland, the room is so incredibly bland. "y/n, medication time!" the nurse that takes main care for you chirps happily through the door, and you let out a wheeze as you sit up and pull on a shirt. "coming." you say, voice monotone and small. opening the door, you see the nurse with a tray, but what does capture your eye is the guards standing by a door nearby. "miss burnham, what's going on there?" you quirk a brow, taking your sertraline from miss burnham as well as the glass of water. "oh it's just a new patient, don't worry." the nurse brushes your question off with a kind smile as she takes the now empty glass back. "come on, breakfast then art therapy!" she beams, gesturing for you to follow her. you glance at the door again, before leaving with miss burnham.

breakfast is bland too, no sugar in the porridge, no fruit, no juice. it's so distastefully bland that you want to push it away but you don't want to get told off for not eating by mrs finch who was the more strict nurse that worked on supervision in the more social places, most of the time anyway. miss burnham sits across from you, reading over your schedule from her clipboard. "so, after art therapy is your free period, what do you want to do then?" she asks, looking up at you. "can we watch a movie with the others?" you ask softly, and miss burnham's eyes brighten. "you want to socialise today?" she beams and you sigh, taking a sip of water. "sure." you say softly, glancing around the cafeteria. "that's amazing, that will make outstanding progress!" she smiles, resting her cold hand on yours but pulls away when you flinch. "sorry, i forget." she says softly, but you sigh. "it's alright." you say, spotting a scruffy teen who looked to be the same age as you being directed to an empty table.

miss burnham hums and turns to see what you're looking at. "oh, that's mr myers, he's your new neighbour." she says when she turns back to you. "he looks interesting." you say, observing the cuffs on his wrist. myers plops down at the table, ignoring the bowl they put in front of him. "hmm, stay away from him. he seems to be under high security." miss burnham says, turning back to look at myers. the boy's eyes flicker to yours and your breath hitches, a sense of mild panic rising in your throat. "if you're done, we can go to the yellow room to do some painting with doctor piers." burnham says softly, pulling your attention back to her. "sure.." you mumble, and follow her out the door, past myers who watches you the whole way.

doctor piers is a happy man who greets you loudly. you don't like his suffocating energy, so miss burnham sits you down in your quiet corner and gives you your sketchbook. you sit quietly and draw things from your childhood, things that make you happy, all while miss burnham actually colours in a colouring page with the pencils you use. you felt peaceful with her by your side, she was like your big sister considering she was close to your age. "ooh, i like him." miss burnham smiles, tapping her nail next to the rough sketch of snufkin from the moomins. "thanks..." you reply quietly, letting the nurse push the pencils to you so you can colour him in.

for once, you don't feel alone... don't feel isolated with your thoughts and bad memories. miss burnham is your safe place, your new family. "so, y/n. are you interested in anyone in particular that you want to befriend?" miss burnham asks, the scratching of her pencil on paper stopping as she leans forward as if the two of you were gossiping about crushes. "not really... just think it's good to try and ease myself back into being around people other than you." you shrug, putting the green pencil down to pick up a yellow one. "that's still good. do you want to try and finish the drawing of him." she asks, flipping the page carefully to the recreation of that fateful night. your breath hitches as you stare at the charcoal drawing of the man standing over your mother. "what else do you remember, if there's anything else?" burnham asks, watching you carefully.

it comes back in waves, it was supposed to be a robbery, your family was in the wrong place at the wrong time, the blood spatter, the ornament that was used as a weapon dripping with the red substance. tears fill your eyes as you let out a shuddery breath. "no." you say firmly, wanting to push the book away. "are you sure, you haven't drawn any facial features for him.. it will help the investigation a lot." your nurse reminds you, and your hand tightens on the pencil. "i don't want to!" you snap, getting up abruptly, chair screeching back. "okay, okay. deep breaths." burnham stands too, fighting the urge to gently rub your arm soothingly. "i don't want to think about it." you hiss, storming off. nurse burnham calls after you, and doctor piers looks up to see you making a run for it. "y/n, wait!" he tries, but you swerve him and run out the door.

nurse burnham can't keep up in her high heels, and you outrun her easily, making your way to your room after losing her. you're alone again, and you catch sight of myers, sat in his room just as alone as you are. the guard is talking to doctor loomis, a man who gives you the creeps. seeing an opportunity to get past, you slip into your room quickly, once again isolating yourself. in his own room, michael had spotted you through the glass on his door, and he walks up, peering into your room as best he can. "hey! back up, myers." the guard bangs his door, now without loomis's presence, but michael doesn't move. he's unfazed by the guard's aggressive nature. the noise spooked you, you looked like a deer in headlights as you stare back at him.

you seem... disturbed by something, and that upsets michael. the feeling in his chest, to grab you and hide you from the world grows at the look in your eye. michael's hand finds the door, and he yoinks it open once the guard unlocked it in an attempt to push him back into his cell. "hey! what're you-?" he cuts the guard off, knocking the man out easily. his body hits the floor as michael opens your door easily. you gasp, back hitting the corner of your wall as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. "please, don't hurt me! i didn't do anything!" you yell, and michael shakes his head as he closes your door. "leave me alone." you repeat the three words like a prayer, voice quieter as your hands grip your hair with stress. "i'm not going to hurt you." michael rasps painfully, shocked at how deep his voice had gotten in comparison to the last time he spoke.

his words don't seem to get through to you, and he grows mildly annoyed. eventually, michael sits next to you and pulls you into a tight hug, hoping it would help as he had no idea what to do. you yelp in surprise, breathing slowing with confusion as you look up at the brunette with furrowed brows. "i-.. what..?" you stumble for words, but michael doesn't say anything, his empty eyes observing you. "thank you..." you mumble, once you calm down, and michael nods. "what's your name..?" you ask quietly, and michael continues to stare before answering.

"michael." he rasps, pointing at himself. "nice to meet you, michael. i'm y/n." you reply, eyes averting from his anxiously. michael sits with you as you start thinking. more intrusive thoughts break in, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes you as you rub your forehead. michael tilts his head, observing you. "sorry... it's just..." you sigh trying to find an explanation that didn't include what you thought of. "do you ever get intrusive thoughts?" you ask, finally looking at michael. the other teen nods, and you deflate with relief, he'd understand you. "they suck, don't they?" you chuckle half-heartedly, and michael shrugs. "oh, do they not bother you as much?"

he doesn't reply, and you nod slightly. "want me to show you around? i need to take my mind of things." you suggest, getting up and looking at the boy on your floor. michael seems to think for a moment before nodding and following you. you step over the guard carefully, and gesture for michael to follow you. the click-clacking of heels makes you grab the other teen's hand as you pull him around a corner. "shh! they'll be looking for me." you can't help but smile at the make-shift game of cat and mouse. it's been a while since you got to play games. michael blinks at you, letting you lead him around. "this is the rec room, it's the best room here. if you have a free period this is the best place to go. they let you watch anything they have." you smile, creaking the door open carefully.

doctor addison spots you and rushes over. "nurse burnham is looking for you." he whisper yells and you nod. "i'm showing the new guy around so shh!" you say, putting a finger up to your mouth. "it's good to see you getting out of your comfort zone. if i see her i'll tell her you're helping doctor loomis." he winks, and you smile slightly. "thanks addison." you say, pulling michael away from the room. "who's that?" michael's deep voice makes you jump. "oh, doctor addison? he's so cool, he'll give you snacks for after hours." you smile up at him, and michael notes the personality of the doctor. easy target to begin with. "you've seen the cafeteria so let's go to the gardens next." you say, peering around a corner carefully before ducking back, your back bumping into michael's chest. "my nurse is coming, quick, we can hide in here!" you whisper yell, pulling michael into doctor addison's office.

you close the door carefully, and michael observes the room. the decor is very vintage yet comfy, it suits the doctor quite well. you press your ear to the door carefully, listening as miss burnham speaks to doctor addison. you gasp as michael pulls you from the door, hand grasping your wrist. "are you alright?" you ask carefully, looking up at the brunette who didn't seem bothered. he shrugs, simply holding you near to him. your presence stirred something in him, and he didn't know if he should kill you or hold you closer. michael spots a candle stick, and his eyes dart from it to you.

michael lets out a silent breath as he decides on the latter, tugging you into his chest. your breath hitches as you hit his large frame, and your eyes come back to him. craning his head down, michael buries his face into the crook of your neck. you make a small noise, unsure of what to do as he takes in your scent. "uh... michael?" you furrow your brows, hands raised awkwardly as you didn't know where to put them. "shh." he hushes you, hands finding your hips. "what are you-?" your question is cut off by his lips grazing your neck, and it all clicks into place.

your body froze up, michael made a silent note of this. "i- uh.." you stammer as he continues to kiss your neck. "fuck, michael. we shouldn't do this." you say softly, glancing to the door. michael hushes you as his teeth nip your skin, he was testing the waters with you. your knees felt weak as your eyes fluttered shut. it had been so long since you had got to do anything like this, since you got to feel like a teenager. your hand find's michael's fluffy hair as you move his head closer to you.

taking the small success, michael sinks his teeth into your neck fully. the feelings in his chest explode as he finally marks you, suckling the dark bruise onto your skin. you whimper at the feeling, your other hand resting on his chest. eventually, his lips move again, and they find your jaw. you hum, letting him press closer to you as his lips kiss up your your own. when your lips meet, michael's inexperience really shows, he doesn't really know what to do so you take the lead.

eventually, his lips copy your movement as his hands tighten on your hips. you hum into his mouth, fingers gently stroking his scalp as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. it felt right, and you didn't know why. eventually, when michael pulls away, you gaze into his eyes and notice the scar over his right one. "oh, what happened?" you ask, fingertips gently grazing over the scar on his eyes. upon closer look, his iris was paler than the other, and you guessed his vision was poor from the one eye. you're not able to get a closer look as michael kisses you again. you hands cup his face as you melt into him, lips moving against his fluently. michael moves with you, and you gasp as your lower back hits the desk in the room. the other teen's strong hands lift you and plop you down so you're sitting on the hard wood of the table.

your arms wrap around michael's neck to kiss him again, and he's happy that you're slowly beginning to show interest in him. you make a small noise as michael pulls your legs around his waist, standing between them with his pelvis pressing against yours. teasingly, you shuffle your hips against him as you kiss him again. michael growls softly, grinding into you as he grasps your thighs roughly to stop your movements. "i've never done this before." you admit, keeping him close as he hums. "me neither." he shrugs, kissing you again. you feel eased by michael's lack of experience, it felt like the two of you were experimenting together and that comforts you.

eventually, michael's fingers find the waistband of your pants and you whimper as he tugs them down easily. "no underwear?" he chuckles softly, and your cheeks heat up. "some of us don't have that luxury." you mumble, averting his gaze. "it's fine." he shrugs, fingers brushing over your slit. you gasp at the feeling of him spreading you open, and can't help but move your hips against his digits. his middle finger teases your wet hole, and you whine when he collects some of it to bring into his mouth. you feel slightly embarrassed as he suckles your pleasure off his finger with no shame before moving his hand back down to rub his fingers over your slit again.

your smaller hand finds his, and you guide his fingers to your clit with a small moan. catching your meaning, michael's rough fingers start rubbing small circles over your bud. you gasp, back arching into him as his fingertips stimulate you. "fuck, michael!" you whimper, hands grasping his shirt to pull him closer. he hums at your words, moving so his thumb abused your clit whilst his fingers slowly pushed your hole open. you whine as his fingers press into you, your hymen stretching uncomfortably. "michael, please- i need you." you whimper, letting him lay you back on the desk. removing his hand from you, he pulls down his own pants, erection springing free.

you freeze slightly at his size, unsure if he'll fit. michael notes your uneasiness as rubs your outer thighs softly. you smile nervously as his tip rubs against your cunt, your hands grasping his anxiously as he slowly pushes into you. you wail as his cock rips your hymen, and michael smiles as your blood slowly smears his cock. "it hurts!" you whimper, grabbing his arms tightly with discomfort. michael shushes you, and gives you small kisses until you stop whining. once you've settled around the intrusion and your pussy adjusts to his dick, you give him the nod to say that you're ready. michael slowly pushes in so that he's fully sheathed before pulling out half way. you whimper at the feeling, pleasure slowly overtaking the dull pain you still felt.

eventually, michael finds a medium pace in you, smiling as his cock bobs through the skin of your stomach. you whimper, holding michael's arms even tighter as he fucks into you. "oh fuck..!" you yelp as his tip protrudes from your abdomen. "sh." he replies quickly as your back arches off the table. "fuck, michael- oh!" you press your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans as he speeds up. eventually, his hand moves and starts rubbing fast circles on your clit. you gasp and keen loudly behind your palm as your thighs tremble around his hips. michael grips the flesh of your outer thighs tightly as he adjusts your legs towards you at an awkward angle. despite the weird position, you moan loudly as his cock pushes deeper into you, his tip kissing your womb.

michael hums at the feeling as his hand gets tired of stimulating you, so as a substitute, he brings his hand down onto your swollen bud harshly. you wail at the sting of his slap, pleasure rolling through your body. taking that as a good sign, michael waits before slapping your clit again harder. unexpectedly, you cum on his cock as you shudder and tremble under him. your cunt squeezes michael's cock tightly, preventing him from moving. the way your gummy walls grip him as you twitch around him is too much, so michael pushes into your womb so his cum filled you up.

you gasp at the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you, and michael seems to be loving it because when you come down from your high and loosen around him slightly, he's fucking his cum into you. you can't help but let out a small noise with every thrust, whimpering when michael stops, satisfied with how deep his cum had gone. your womb drinks up his seed nicely as you let michael grab your hands to pull you up into a sitting position. slumping against him, you nuzzle into his chest, your eyes becoming droopy with exhaustion. he grins at your sated state, pulling your pants up for you. once he is dressed as well, he picks you up carefully to bring you back to your room to rest.

michael ignores the nurses who try to stop him, marching past them as he carries your sleepy form to his room instead. he didn't know much, but he did know that only armed guards as well as doctor loomis were only allowed in his room for safety reasons and it was his best bet of keeping you with him. carefully opening his door, he closes it behind him with his foot and watches as the nurses stand anxiously peering through the window. he puts you down carefully on his bed, letting you settle as he sits down. his eyes find the nurses, one of them had left, probably to get security or doctor loomis. rolling his eyes, michael moves his attention back to you. you had already dozed off, and michael looks down to your stomach. the idea of you being swollen with his child excites him, a true marking. however, his hatred for children conflicts that, and he feels slightly frustrated.

three sharp knocks on the door can be heard, and michael lazily looks back over. doctor loomis is standing there, and he looks furious, but michael will stand his ground for you.

[jarofstyles]

Crush

A/N: this one.... biiiitch.... giving you all a little college!harry, he’s so cute 👉🏼👈🏼 enjoy hehe 😈 - n + d

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masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut. FILTH. 

word count: 9.7k

Harry felt a bit creepy. 

It wasn’t as if it was on purpose! No... but she was at all of the places he went. At first he had thought it was a coincidence, but as he developed a routine for his classes, he found that they were often around each other for similar reasons. And usually? He would try and go up, introduce himself, and make a friend. The problem was... she was pretty. 

Not like normal pretty. Pretty as in, holy fuck you make me so nervous and perhaps I’ll word vomit, pretty. He was shit at making the first move. She was in his Monday and Friday classes and sat not far from him, he noticed. And they always ended up at the Coffee Bean on Tuesday and Thursdays, sitting not too far from one another again. She got tea with a few cookies, and he got a black coffee and an orange scone. They’d work on their coursework and Harry would wait for her to leave and see her make it to her car before he would leave, not wanting to make it seem like he was following her. He’s found out her name through friends stopping in to see her. It was Y/N. Gorgeous, just like her.

Funny enough, Harry wasn’t the only one who had a bit of a crush. Y/N realized in the second week of classes that Harry was in fact one of the most intimidatingly cool and attractive men she’d ever seen. College boys weren’t supposed to look like that, but he was all soft in his sweaters and baggy pants. She wasn’t sure how he pulled it off so well, but she could admit she was jealous. 

Seeing him at the Coffee bean was a relief because well, he walked in after her every time. She assumed it was because he had a class that ended later or something, but it didn’t go unnoticed that  he was there. Usually it wasn’t too busy or loud so she could glance at him from the corner of her eye as they sat at one of the big tables. She felt like it would be too weird to talk to him, he seemed so... quiet. She’d never heard him speak, hell, she’d only ever locked eyes with him for milliseconds. Y/N wished she could be one of those girls that could effortlessly flirt, ask for a pencil or something, but she knew she’d freeze up and forget her rehearsed line. 

Today however, when Y/N arrived, Harry was already there at his usual spot. Okay, Y/N... act natural. She thought to herself, going to order her usual before walking to boldly take a seat across from him. It would have worked out fine if her tote bag didn’t accidentally catch the corner of one of his books, sending things flying. 

“Shit— sorry, I—” Y/N swore, setting her bag on the table before bending down to get the book and a few papers and a pen. Real smooth.

Harry was slightly startled when his shit went flying, but when he saw who had knocked it over, his heart picked up. Oh, shit. 

“Oh— it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Harry’s voice was a bit gruff from not using it much today, pushing his chair back and bending down to grab the stuff with her. “S’my fault for putting it so close to the edge. I used to do that at home and my cat would knock it all off.” 

Great. Already rambling. 

Y/N didn’t register it at first, but he was british? Fuck. If she wasn’t already on her knees she would dropped down anyway, biting her lip to stop any noises that could have escaped. She giggled when he said his cat used to knock things over, “mine too.” She mumbled and went to stand up, feeling a tug at her arm. 

“Ah, shit.” Harry had caught his ring in her sweater, pulling one of the threads. “Damn, I’m so sorry.” He blushed slightly, knowing how annoying it was to have a pulled thread. His collection of sweaters was immense, thanks to his nan— and he felt terrible. Damn his chunky things. “They always get caught in mine too but I wear them anyways. I can replace the sweater, if you need.” Damn it. He was trying to come off as smooth... not so nervous. But he was. She was so pretty and she was up close, she smelled like peaches and vanilla and a bit of sweet mint and her hands were so soft.

“Oh no, It’s fine! it’s old anyway— I can just cut it off or tuck it in or something.” Honestly, Y/N would figure it out. The last thing she wanted was for him to feel bad, it was an accident after all. She let him untangle it, holding her hand still though it seemed like he needed some help. “Smaller fingers...” She mumbled, using her nails to get the thread gently off of the ring. “‘s a nice ring.” Y/N complimented, finally meeting his eyes and feeling the breath leave her lungs at the close proximity. Her lips parted naturally, scanning his face for any signs of discomfort.

She was beautiful Harry though he may get sick because wow. Wow. He had imagined holding her hand and kissing her but this exact moment he hadn’t a clue on what to do. So he improvised. 

“Are you in the 8 am psych class on Mondays?” He tilted his head. “I know I’ve seen you before.” Oh, he had seen her a lot. Especially in his dreams, day and night. It had been a bit intoxicating, really. At her nod, his grin came on his face. “Sick. S’that what you’re gonna study for?” He didn’t bring up the other class because... it would be embarrassing if she hadn’t noticed him before and he knew all too much. He needed a refill of his coffee though so he grabbed his cup, gently taking her things and placing them on the table next to his. “At least let me buy your stuff though. I feel awful about your sweater.”

“I’m actually just waiting on them to finish making mine, I was on my way to secure a spot but—” Y/N blushed, realizing the mess she had made. “Could you get it for me while you’re up there? It’s for Y/N. I can sit here and watch your stuff.” She felt like that was a subtle way for her to tell him her name. 

This was the most she had ever spoken to him and it had been about a month or so that she’d been eyeing him up. She knew he was in her English literature class as well, but psych was her major. Y/N wondered if maybe he too was a psych major, maybe that’s why they sort of had the same schedule? Regardless, she felt a bit nervous making conversation so she spent the time he was away coming up with what she was going to ask him and how she was going to keep the ball rolling. Hopefully she didn’t interrupt his studying, if anything she’d leave him alone.

“Y/N?” He tested it on his tongue out loud for the first time. It tasted good. “Yeah. M’Harry. I’ll be back.” He nodded, going towards the front. His heart going a mile a minute, he couldn’t believe how quickly his luck had changed. He ordered an extra cake pop today, for her. she had said it didn’t matter but to him, it did. Eventually he hoped he could buy her a replacement. Or... maybe she could wear his around. Wow. That would stroke his ego and his fragile heart to the core. He could already see her on his lavender fishermen’s sweater, in front of his fireplace back at home. She would be so cute. The voice calling her name snapped him out of the fantasy, Harry grabbing it and then his own shortly after before returning to the table. “Here. I got the last cake pop for you. Don’t tell anyone I’m the offender.”

“Ooo you’re a dead man if they find out.” Y/N said, looking around before gently taking it from him. “Thank you... that’s sweet.” She blushed, taking a bite of it before taking a sip of her chai latte. Now that she had stuff to fiddle around with she could take a breather and not have to worry about filling space. “But um.. did interrupt something? Don’t want to distract you...” Y/N nodded over to his laptop, secretly hoping that he wasn’t up to much so that she could chat to him. She just wanted to know the basics, literally anything would satisfy her craving. Harry was quite literally her wet dream, she’d been looking all around campus for someone like him to come around. “I uh... I think I’m also in your English lit class? I feel like I see you around often.” Y/N spoke, pushing a piece of her hair behind her ear. “What’s your major?” She felt like this conversation was light, something that would eventually lead into other things like... if he was single and looking for a girlfriend.

“Oh, you’re not bugging me. I’ve kind of been staring at the screen and zoning out if m’honest.” Harry chuckled, embarrassed a little to admit it. But everyone could relate to that, right? “And yeah... actually I think so.” He smiled lightly before taking a sip of his drink. Victory! She had noticed him too. He wasn’t the lonely creep who stared at the first who had no idea who he was. She knew who he was, kind of. He gently drew his sweater over his hands like little paws before going to her question. “English. I want to write and stuff, edit maybe. My dad has a publishing company so, I’m lucky I like a bit of the family business.” He tried to joke, looking at her. God. It was unnerving how beautiful and also, how fucking comfortable she was to be around. What a contrast. “And you? What major?” He took a nibble of his scone, not wanting to make a mess.

English? He’s a writer? Goodness. She was going to lose it. 

“That’s cool, any specific genre you like to write?” Y/N asked curiously because well, it would actually tell her a lot about him and the kind of person he was. “I picture some mystery or possibly poetry, could go either way.” She said and squinted her eyes as she looked at him, pretending to size him up. “I can’t say I’m all that interesting, a psych major. Just like every other artsy person who doesn’t exactly want to commit to an art degree.” Y/N chuckled, “still deciding between criminal justice or counseling but... either way I’d be happy to get to pick someone’s brain. She did have the habit of analyzing people but only so she could understand them better. Y/N knew that all people wanted at the core was to be understood and loved for who they are, for the most part. Harry seemed reserved, calm and relaxed, secure in himself that’s for sure. It was extremely attractive.

“Oh? That’s really cool though.” Harry was genuinely interested in what she had to say either way. The major didn’t matter in his interest in her but it gave him information and something to talk about. If she was marketing or math he would be just as interested. “Criminal seems particularly interesting. Like that criminal minds show then? You’ll learn how they work and all of that?” He didn’t really know what it meant or why she had chosen it. “But close. I write romance novels.” He blushed fully. “Don’t judge me for it. But s’easy for me and I’m good at it, or so I’ve been told. I’ve been writing for a while.” He felt himself loosen up as they talked. Even if she intimidated him, she was really nice and sweet. “Poetry too, lots of it. But romance is my main thing, I’d like to do novels and that sort of stuff.” He could see she didn’t think it was lame, rather interesting. Which was a major relief. He wanted to impress her, so so badly.

“Sorta, yeah. Like... being able to predict a criminal's next move, psychologically.” Y/N explained and shrugged, “feel like it’s really fun and interesting but terrifying all at once. Dunno if I could actually interview a criminal without feeling like it was going to cry.” She let out a laugh, knowing she was quite soft. Her face lit up when he said he wrote romance novels. Wow. Well, as if he wasn’t a character right out of a romcom himself! She felt like that’s what this was. A romcom. Bumping into him at a coffee shop like a scene straight from one. “Really?! So you’re a proper romantic then? Buy the last cake pop for every girl, hmm?” She gave him a bashful smile. The very last thing she was doing was judge, she was more so thinking about their wedding. Yep. Already. Daydreaming because she swore she’d hit the jackpot. Wasn’t even sure if he liked her yet, but she was hopeful. After all, she’d turned on her charm.

“I guess I am.” Harry smirked to himself slightly at the good reception. Damn. He had been so worried and hesitant- he should have just talked to her. She wasn’t... that scary. Only a little bit. 

He let her talk a bit more about her degree and Harry went on to speak about his favorite authors, and then the conversation shifted towards their classes and how he had been struggling slightly in psych— which led to her offering to help. Harry was shocked because honestly he hadn’t expected it from her, but he was pleased. He was happy to have an excuse to hang out with her more. See more of her and be able to teach himself to relax properly around her. He felt like a damn wind up toy, giddy and excited. 

“That would be so helpful, if you could. And if you don’t mind.” He stressed. “I have a place off campus, if you’d want to go there? I’ll buy you some pizza or something for your help.” He was a giver and if it meant getting a $20 pizza for her because he wanted good quality, then he would!

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Y/N was practically jumping up and down with joy in her mind, this was a turn of events. She went from secretly crushing on him to being invited over his house in only a few hours. “I can never say no to pizza, but it’s really no problem. They say if you can teach it to someone else then you truly understand it so it’ll be a good test for me. Y/N also knew that they wouldn’t just study. Come on. It was a Friday night and study was practically code for hook up, especially considering he had invited her to his place and not the library. She had to prepare, had to make sure she looked cute and everything. She’d shower before hand too, the whole nine. “I can be there around 6?” Y/N suggested, checking her calendar app even though she already knew when she could come. She had to at least look like she wasn’t jumping at the idea.

“That’s cool. Uh— here, if you want I can put my number in your phone and whenever you want I can text you the address?” Oh, fuck. How, how the tables have turned. He had gone from wistfully staring at her every day to having a scheduled study session with her, the girl he’d been practically having wet dreams about. Having a full conversation and then her having his number! He was giddy and playing with the sleeves of his sweater as a result of the excited nerves. “Do you have any allergies? I do have a kitten at home.” He wanted to make sure he wouldn’t have to put Marie away. He loved his baby but he wanted to try something and see if she would be cool with him in a private setting. It would be less hard to talk about deeper things without people around. He took her phone from her and typed in his number, adding his name with a little  📚 after it. That wasn’t too much, right?

“Aw you do! I have one too, well... he thinks he’s a big boy.” Y/N shook her head at the thought of her sweet little Milo. Despite not doing anything she planned to do at the coffee shop, it still felt like a productive day in her eyes. Finally getting to chat with Harry felt like a breath of fresh air and he wasn’t all that scary now that she got to chatting with him. She took her phone back and smiled at the cute little emoji, sending him a text to let him know it was her before hesitantly getting up. “Alright well, I gotta get back to my kitten... but, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N smiled, watching him stand up as well. The two of them walked out of the coffee shop and to their cars, Y/N being bold enough to give him a hug before opening her car door. “Night!” She was surprised with herself. Y/N was proud, completely over the moon and honestly she wasn’t sure how she was going to sleep tonight.

-----

Harry laid out on the bed that night with Marie on his chest. He had told her all about how the pretty Y/N had met him and that she would be coming over. The pretty cat was a long haired white kitty, and she purred along with Harry as he spoke. She liked hearing Harry be happy. It made him want to squeak when he heard his phone buzz and a little text from her popped up— he saved her as ‘Y/N 🌼’ because he felt like it fit. Part of him wanted to put a heart but he would be mortified if she saw and thought it was weird. She wore a yellow flower shirt one day so he figured that’s what he could excuse it as. 

‘Hey, happy to hear from you! :) I hope your kitty is doing well. I meant to ask, you aren’t vegetarian are you?’

Y/N smiled at his text and attached a photo of her gray kitten laying across the top of her head while she laid down. 

‘Yes, he’s quite cozy.’

‘I am actually! But I’m not too fussy.’ 

She couldn’t help it, she loved animals and she couldn’t bring herself to do it anymore. Occasionally, she would indulge in a chicken nugget or seafood, but for the most part she didn’t feel like she had to. 

‘I’m going to get some sleep though, Good night Harry 💓’

That wasn’t too much was it? It was just a heart! She sent them to everyone. Y/N stayed up for a good ten minutes just digesting the day. Tomorrow would be even better, she had a feeling.

——

Harry was... well, he wasn’t sure how to describe the emotion. When Niall inevitably quizzed him on why he was acting strange, the best he had come up with was a mix of nerves and giddiness, also terror and extreme happiness. He was going to hang out with the girl he had been silently crushing on— and they had been texting quite frequently in the short time they had each other’s numbers. Was this going to be a regular thing? Was it going to blossom into more? He knew that he had wasted time before, not talking to her. She wasn’t scary! No... she was so sweet and kind and beautiful and everything she said made him a literal heart eye emoji. She had taken to sending him random photos, even so quickly in and it felt comfortable. He had even sent her a shot of Marie on the counter this morning, on top of his school notes. It was odd. The excitement he felt when he heard the bing from his phone of the vibration in his pocket... it was incredible. He liked this feeling. Damn it. This was such a new thing. He wanted to do more. 

He saw her in class, watching as she crept in a bit after the last call should be with a sheepish smile on her face. He waved to her silently and watched her climb up, his heart beating quicker when she chose a seat closer to his than before. She wanted to sit near him? He clutched the rainbow patchwork sweater by the sleeves and fiddled with the cuffs, nerves and excitement swirling in his tummy.

If class wasn’t already on, Y/N knew she would have tried to spark up some conversation with Harry, but for now all she could manage was passing him a note. 

‘I like your cardigan :)’

It was really cute. Most of Harry’s wardrobe was and in her dream world she already stole a few to wear. English literature wasn’t exactly the most exciting class, but Harry seemed invested. Y/N enjoyed watching him focus and take notes while she mostly doodled some random flowers and bears in her notebook. Her mind was thinking about what she was going to wear to his house and how she definitely needed a shower before and that she had to put on the lotion that matched her perfume. Was she overthinking this? Maybe. Of course it was just a study date, but you could never be too sure where things could go. And if they did— she wanted to be ready.

He knew that he needed to contain himself but his smile made it hard. She liked his cardigan. The random compliment had him feeling mushy and happy and there was definitely a blush on his cheeks as he clicked his pen and wrote back to her. 

‘Thanks :) my nan knitted it for me. I like your little head band.’ 

He passed it back before opening his notebook back up. Her stare could be felt and he wanted to smirk a little at it because, well, who wouldn’t? She was so great, and he wanted to experience more of her but he was trying to not rush shit. He was a romance writer after all. All of it felt so in tune with his own wants and he had a hard time believing it was real. Sweet little Y/N wanted to hang out with him and she complimented his cardigan!

‘Awe!! That’s cute and thank youuuu 🥰’ 

She drew him a little smiley face with hearts around it, felt like it was very on brand for her and her emotive texting. Y/N felt all giddy because she had made a new friend but she was really hoping they wouldn’t just be friends. 

Y/N knew she was hard to read because she was generally nice to everyone and honestly, Harry seemed to be the same way. She could only assume he liked her because he asked her to hang out so quickly. And he’d bought her a cake pop and was planning on buying pizza tonight. Was it a date then? Gosh, she needed to stop reading into it. Her leg kept bouncing up and down, mind trying to refocus and thankfully, their professor was discussing something she too had noticed in her reading. She still managed to steal quick glances at Harry for the rest of the class, giving him shy little smiles. It wasn’t till class ended that she ended up speaking to him, but even that was quick. She needed to get home and get ready.

Harry had gotten a quick hi, and a ‘see you tonight!’ With her hand brushing his arm before she skipped off to.. wherever she went. And that had him nearly sprinting home. Cleaning top to bottom, vacuum, scrub, vacuum again. Changed his sheets— why, he wasn’t sure— put his laundry in the basket, filled up Marie’s food and water, fluffed the pillows, cleaned the windows and coffee table... he did it all. Even cleaned out the fridge! Like she would care? Harry didn’t know. All he did know was that he was finally showered and smelled nice, hair fixed and the pumpkin patch candle was lit! The tv was on low because he was nervous and needed some filler noise to keep himself from overthinking.

Y/N was doing the same, not cleaning her apartment but cleaning herself. She stripped out of her clothes when she got home and immediately got into the shower, taking one of those full maintenance ones for good measure. Once she was positive she was squeaky clean and smelled nice, she jumped out to take the next steps. God, she really wanted to impress him. He’d been her crush for a while and she needed this. She wanted to look like she didn’t put in my effort when she did so she decided to put on some light makeup and chose an outfit that was more laid back. Usually, she was seen wearing sweaters and jeans, nothing too fancy, so that’s exactly what she settled on. Y/N wanted to look warm and inviting. 

Milo mewed beneath her feet as she collected all her study supplies, rubbing against her ankles in need of attention. “I’m sorry bubs, I know I didn’t get to spend lots of time with you today but don’t be too mad.” Y/N pouted, picking him up and giving him a cuddle for a few minutes. She held him up to her chest as she finished up, deciding she needed to leave now.

‘Leaving now, be there in 20 ✨’

She sent, hopping into her car with nerves bubbling up in her stomach. God, she really hoped tonight went well.

——

When Harry heard the knock at the door he shot up, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants before forcing himself to be slow, walking to the door. And when he opened it, it really did feel like being hit in the gut. Seeing someone so beautiful, so up close? It got to him. He had to admit that. Y/N has this natural beauty that he drooled over. That felt like a hit. Every time he saw her he swore she got more beautiful. 

“Hi.” He spoke with a smile, opening the door up for her. “Come inside. Marie is wandering around so I have to close the door. A little escape artist, she is.” He joked, letting her scurry in and close the door behind her.

“Hey! Oop— okay!” Y/N giggled and stepped past him into his apartment. It was very cute and very tidy. Y/N felt a little flutter in her belly, it was freshly cleaned. She stepped out of her shoes before further examining the decor. The style was something she very much expected for Harry, it was cozy and artsy. Lots of earth tones and that sweet autumn smell coming from the candle made her feel that much more excited. “It’s so nice in here! I love the pillows.” Y/N complimented, liking how some were fluffy and some had funky patterns on them. It was then that she heard a meow from below, Marie sniffing at her sock covered toes. “Oh hi there... sorry if you can smell Milo on me, gave me lots of snuggles before I left.” Y/N cooed down to the kitten, dropping down so she was closer to the ground and extended her hand for her to sniff and get used to. 

Y/N realized this was very real now, especially because he had gone out of his way to make his place look nice. Most guys wouldn’t care, but maybe Harry did this for everyone. When she stood back up and turned to face him, she got a whiff of him and noticed his semi damp hair. He showered too. Oh—

Harry smiled at her and Marie, happy his kitten seemed to like her. Usually she would sniff his friends and run off but she began to weave over her legs and beg for pets. He was in awe. Christ. She had him by the balls already. 

“Do you want anything to drink? I’ve got diet soda... apple juice, lots of teas. And water.” He hummed, going into the kitchen with her behind him. It was an open concept though, the kitchen the first thing near the door and it opened into a large living area, the hall down going to the master bedroom. It was simple but perfect for him in college. He gave her a moment to think it over as he looked at her. So cozy and... cuddly. He wanted to slide his hands under her sweater and feel her warm skin and nuzzle into the crook of her neck, let her fingers play through his hair.

“Apple juice sounds good.” Y/N smiled, having picked up Marie at this point to carry her into the kitchen with them. She had a feeling she’d get along just great with Milo if they ever got to meet. “You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” Y/N cooed at the kitten, seeing her comfortably settled against her. “Does your Daddy spoil you with snuggles too?” She asked toying with her little paw before looking up at Harry with a smile. He had fumbled a bit with the lid of the juice at her words which made her giggle, “How are you? How was your day today?” Y/N was genuinely curious, deciding to make some small talk before actually sitting down. In her head she could already imagine the two of them hanging out here constantly, tangled up in one another, kissing and laughing and doing all the cute things that Harry likely wrote about in his stories.

“I’m— im good.” Harry’s mouth was dry. He knew that she hadn’t meant anything by it, but he heard her say ‘daddy’ in reference to him, and his stupid cock had jumped, tummy felt hot. Damn it. He wished he wasn’t so deprived but... she had been at the forefront of his mind. “It was a good day. I was happy to talk to you. You’re fun to talk to.” He meant it too. She was so interesting and funny and he was completely whipped and okay with it. Damn. He wished he had maybe a bit more restraint with his imagination but he didn’t. Not at all. “I have a harder time meeting people... i can be a little shy sometimes. I’m in my own head a lot you know? I have my core group of friends but... it’s hard to get to know people. I want to know them.” Her. That translates to her.

“Yeah?” Y/N felt her heart jump. He was happy to speak with her even just a little bit? He wanted to talk to her and get to know her? It wasn’t just a one sided thing. They were both making an effort in their own way and she was thinking someone had to break the tension. “I’m happy you think so.” Y/N blushed, “I um... I also like talking to you.” She had her little friend group as well but she never thought she’d actually end up being friends with Harry. Listening to him explain how reserved he was definitely made her feel special though. He chose to open up to her, she was special enough for that and that made her cheeks grow warm once again. “I’ll tell you just about anything you want to know.” Y/N smiled, hesitantly placing Marie down before taking a few steps closer to him to get her glass of apple juice.

“Ooooh, a little daunting. Anything? Your social security number?” Harry was joking. Trying to clear the air and make her relax because she was a bit shy too and he wanted her to be comfortable here. This place should be a good spot for her. He motioned for her to come sit on the couch with him, Marie trailing after Y/N. Little traitor had a new favorite already but... he couldn’t say he could blame her. “I dunno... it’s hard sometimes, in this age to make genuine friendships. Feels like everyone’s already got their friend groups and you don’t want to infringe upon them yeah? And... I write a lot. I’m not a partier. Not to sound cliche but again.... I’m a writer.” He chuckled.

“I said just about!” Y/N chuckled, shaking her head to herself at his joke. She felt like she was an open book, she was pretty open with the things she liked and generally she aimed to spread positivity and love where she could. Her hobbies included lots of things, music, knitting, reading, gardening. That kind of stuff. “But yeah, I get that... I’ve been pretty content with my group of friends, though I think most people are open to making new ones. At least I am... I am a bit shy though.” Y/N took a sip of her apple juice before setting it down on the coffee table again. “Yeah, you said. Romance novels.” She smiled and leaned back into the couch, getting comfortable. “What sorts of romance novels?” What? Could you blame her for wanting to know what sort of content was in them? Maybe it could give her some insight on what he wanted.

“Oooooh. Hard hitting stuff.” Harry huffed out playfully. “I’m... it’s a variety, I think. I’ve done supernatural, classic tropes, historical romance was very fun. I am partial to enemies to lovers or forbidden romances though. They’re the most fun to write.” Y/N genuinely looked like she cared so he continued. “I’ve been trying out different stuff but....” he blushed again. “I’m... looking at erotica right now.” It wasn’t something he usually would blurt out but hey, she seemed trustworthy. Plus she didn’t seem like she would judge either. It was a new favorite of his. The rawness of it and writing sex scenes... it was amazing. Reading it, writing it, he thought he could do some on the side and sell it under a pen name. It would be a fun thing to try.

Erotica. This man sat down and wrote detailed sex scenes, likely kinky, for fun? Thankfully she didn’t have any juice in her mouth because it surely would have been spat out. 

“H-how are you finding it?” She asked, reaching for her apple juice because she felt like she couldn’t sit still now. How else was she supposed to go about things when all she could think about was sex. Sex with him specifically. Y/N wasn’t blind, she knew that Harry was very attractive and very much gifted with beautiful hands. She could only assume he would have a wonderful cock as well. She knew there was no way someone so quite couldn’t have the filthiest of minds, she knew hers was. Her fantasies were where she roamed free.  

“I mean... I do like it a lot, actually. I hope that doesn’t come across as creepy or pervy but I like to be able to write something like that. It’s freeing, in a sense.” Harry couldn’t really properly describe why but, he was a kinky dude. You’d never think it. He was soft and wore sweaters a lot and drank tea at home from a kitty mug but he was.... a kinky fucker. And he loved sex. There was just something about it. He wanted to try more and more of it but he had a tendency to get attached to his partners, even hook ups... so he had put that on a hault. 

“I’d like to read some...” Y/N felt like at some point, she’d want to read his writing. If he felt comfortable now she didn’t mind. It was just writing, wasn’t it? 

“You want to?” She looked at him with bright eyes and her a fast nod so Harry decided to say, fuck it. If they were going to work as friends... or lovers, which is what Harry really wanted... she would need to accept this side. He grabbed his laptop and boosted it on, letting himself grab the latest completed scene. “Here. You can read this, i'll order the pizza.” There were obvious nerves in his belly from letting her read filthy smut from his computer but Y/N... she was different. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but she was.

They were meant to be studying. 

That was long forgotten though as Y/N nodded and got comfortable on the couch with his laptop sat in her lap. It felt a bit taboo, but she figured she could separate the writer from the story. 

The scene was from a male character’s perspective, describing him having a long and hard day at work where all he could think about was his partner. Y/N felt her face get progressively warmer as the character spoke about his partner, she couldn’t help but imagine this was how Harry was when he was horny and needy. 

Y/N knew that if she was his, she would certainly brighten up his mood after a tough day at work. Seeing her own name in the document however proved that Harry thought the same. Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head, her eyes lifting from the screen to look up at him as he ordered the pizza completely unaware of her discovery. 

This is what he imagined? This is what he wanted to do.... with her?

Harry ordered two cheese pizzas and some cinnamon dessert thing because there was a a special going on. He had thought about getting more but he didn’t want to go overboard with it, so he finished the order. Thank god for online ordering.

“Okay... it’ll be here in 25 minutes I think.” He hummed, looking up and freezing slightly. She looked blushy and her eyes wide as she read the post and he wondered why she looked a bit startled. “Hey... y’alright love?” He asked quietly. God damn it. Had he freaked her out too much? Was it just too much in general for the first time they properly hung out? He couldn’t remember exactly what scene he had pulled up. Just that it was recent, a billionaire type of thing.

Y/N casually moved the laptop on to the coffee table without answering his question. She didn’t think twice before she climbed on to his lap, hands settling on his shoulders. Sure, it was a risky move, but after what she’d read? She felt like she had to make her move. She wanted to be just as hot and sexy as he had imagined her to be. Harry’s shocked expression made her smile, hand going up to cup his cheek. 

“You left my name in the document...” Y/N’s voice spoke low and slow, thumb brushing over his now parted lips. Never did she think she could be so bold so soon, but fuck did it feel good. She felt so powerful, so sexy, and so so horny. “Thought about me riding your cock so much you wrote about it?” Y/N whispered, leaning in to kiss the skin just below his ear before nibbling at the skin. “Noticed me before we properly met... thought about me... is this what you wanted, baby?”

Harry blanked. 

Oh. fuck.

He hadn’t expected her to climb into his lap. Climbing on and straddling him, cupping his cheek, talking in that hot little voice that had his cock filling a bit. Holy fucking shit. 

“Oh—” He was cut off by her thumb over her lip. She was into it, into him. How had this happened? He had to be dreaming. But... no. Her heat was too real to be a dream. Her eyes too clear and dark, her smell too real. It was real. “Y-yeah...” He whispered, gasping when she kissed his skin, hand grabbing her waist. Oh, hell. Under his pants, his cock was quickly hardening. You couldn’t blame him, his dream woman, his crush, was straddling his lap and kissing his neck. Talking like this. 

“Thought about it ‘lots.” He muttered. She was so bold for this and that was something he found so sexy. When her teeth scraped his skin and bit down a bit harder, a dark groan left his mouth, hand on her waist tightening. “Holy shit... Y/N.”

“Hmm... feels good?” Y/N questioned, licking over the spot that she bit before moving to a new one. “Think I can make you cum in 25 minutes?” Y/N felt like she could take on the challenge, his cock was already hardening beneath her and she was a bit of foreplay away from being completely soaked. “Wanna try all of it, yeah?” Y/N muttered, nipping at the spot just where his jawline met his neck. “Riding your cock.... you bending me over, can choke me too. Please do...” She moaned at the thought, her hormones completely taking over. He still seemed to be frozen, despite his hand now on her waist so she moved her hips forward a little bit and tugged at his hair. “Wanna make you feel good.” 

Y/N had a kink for giving but it seemed Harry did as well. She expected a needy hook up, rough touches, quickness, pure lust. It’s exactly what she needed. It’s been a while since she’d hooked up with anyone and she was desperate for Harry to break her dry spell.

“Ah, shit.” Harry hissed. The tug at his hair sent a shock of hot arousal down his spine. That got him going so quickly. She wanted to fuck? Right now? He would be a fool to say no, and he wasn’t raised a fool. “Yeah? Y’want to ride my cock?” He asked lowly. “Fucks sake... I didn’t know you were so dirty.” He never would have guessed it from her either but... they were here. And he was snapped out of his shock by the tug, and now he was ready to do whatever the fuck she let him. “What did y’want the most, love? Tell me.” He had taken into account that she wanted to be choked, raising a hand to gently cuff her throat, bringing her close to his face. The confidence was soaring now, and all because she was leaking it. She wanted it, desperately. “I said, tell me.” He gave a quick squeeze to her throat. “Want to know what you need.”

“Need your cock, daddy.” Y/N moaned out, eyes blown and glazed over with desire. Y/N could feel the tension in her bones, cunt throbbing and aching to be touched. “Need you so bad, please— wanted you for so long, please make me cum, please!” She pleaded, fully giving into the fantasy. Y/N was never one to hold back and from what she had read, he certainly didn’t want her to. Her body felt like it was on fire, hands grabbing fist fulls of his sweater in hopes that he’d just take it off. Y/N wasn’t sure what type of body would be beneath it, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to feel his warm skin, lick and kiss all that she could while she worked her magic. Y/N waited for his directions, falling into the submissive role easily despite her initial approach. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’re gonna have to re-write that scene.”

Harry was going to give this girl any fucking thing she wanted. He let her guide his sweater off, the cool air hitting his skin not even getting a chance because her hands and mouth were all over him. It was like she had fallen into a heat, and Harry.... he loved it. He placed his hands under her sweater, feeling her hands smooth over his chest as she kissed at his neck and over his jaw. Her skin was hot under the sweater, his hands gripping her waist and smoothing over her hips, going up and sip to her ribs where he realized— fuck. 

“Not wearing a fucking bra?” He hissed. “Jesus... you’re a little minx, aren’t you? Off with this.” He spoke lowly, grabbing the ends of it but barely had a shot before Y/N ripped it off of her body. Fucks sake. She was sexier than he had ever imagined. “My god... you’re so sexy, baby.” He whispered, sitting up and burying his face between her breasts. Kissing the hot skin between them, working his way up with the wet, open mouthed kisses to her throat.

“Oh Daddy...” Y/N’s body shuddered at the feeling of his mouth on her, head falling back as she let out a happy sigh. He seemed to like her hand in his hair so she happily gripped at his locks as he scattered kisses over her skin. “Come ‘ere...” She whined, guiding him up to her lips. “Wanna taste your mouth.” Making eye contact with him in this moment felt intimate. All those quick glances in classes and at the coffee shop, all the day dreaming, it all built up to this moment where she fully felt she could let herself let go. The both of them wanted this, it was so reassuring, this was a safe space and they could do whatever they wanted. Y/N’s body rolled forward, pushing him further back onto the couch and angling her hips so she could tease the both of them before she let herself have it. Fuck was he hard... and full. Another moan left her lips, sounding more like a plea and cry for more.

“Fuck me... you’re needy. I love it.” Harry hissed, pulling her mouth to his. It wasn’t soft. No, this kiss... it was hot. Heavy. Her mouth opened and immediately he dragged his tongue inside, meeting hers. She tasted like the apple juice and a bit of mint, and he could groan just from how good it was. Sweet little Y/N wasn’t too innocent at all. “Fuck— keep teasing me like that. S’like you want to end up crying.” He had a feeling now that she did. She wanted his cock inside of her pussy, thrusting in and out and letting herself soak him. Yeah... he wanted it too. “Keep calling me daddy. You’re so dirty. Who would have fucking... known.” He spoke between the kisses, hands going for her jeans. He wanted them off, like hours ago. He was finally going to get her. “M’gonna lay you out in my bed after... first m’gonna fuck you, but M’gonna clean out your cunt with my tongue. And then M’gonna take you again. Yeah?” She has come for studying but was staying for hot sex and he hoped to turn it into a nice marathon. He had all weekend and he was hoping she wouldn’t have to go. He had too many idea for her. “Gonna let daddy lick it up?”

“Fuck— yes, gonna let daddy have his way with me...” She kept her hips rolling against his slowly, keeping the rhythm in check with the passionate kiss they were sharing. Y/N already knew this was going to be the best sex of her life, the kiss alone let her know that. His tongue would work wonders on her cunt and she’d be more than happy to return the favor. Hesitantly, Y/N began to stand to get her jeans off, one of her hands staying put on the back of his neck so the kiss didn’t break. She let him fiddle with the zipper, feeling his fingers hook both her jeans and underwear before yanking them down to which Y/N let out a little squeal. 

Y/N knew she had to pull away from the kiss for air but she didn’t want to, waiting till the very last minute until she couldn’t anymore and went to get his jeans off.

“Come on. Be good.” He murmured against her lips, brushing his hips up so she could get his pants off. She tugged and easily they came down, Harry kicking them off as he pulled her back in his lap. His hands gripped her bare ass and groaned when she pushed into them, not thinking twice before pulling his hand back and smacking it the sound rang in the room and she let out the most sexy noise against his mouth, making him hiss. Fuck. He wanted her so fucking badly. This girl... she was everything. One hand went to feel and fuck. Fuck shit, motherfuck, it was wet. She was so, wet. “Jesus— you’re so wet. Baby— holy shit, you’re soaked.” He whispered. “S’cause of me? You wanted daddy’s cock this bad?” He pulled his fingers off slightly, the arousal still stringing to his fingers. He placed them at her mouth and pushed them in. “That’s it. Clean them up, sweet girl. You’re so filthy, y’know that? Precious little thing. So slick and hot, want cock so fucking bad don’t you?” He cooed, feeling her suck on the digits. “Now.... rub it against your pussy. Don’t put it in yet. get it wet.”

Y/N sucked at his fingers as if it were her job, making sure to treat it like she would his cock which included eye contact. She loved looking at him, seeing his hungry expression and his eyes that seemed to say so much more than he did. Even the feeling of her cunt sliding over his cock sent tingles up her spine. It had never affected her this much with other guys, but she assumed it was different with Harry because she had wanted him for so long. Y/N let out a whimper, feeling a gush of wetness accumulate when he pushed his fingers in farther. Harry was hot in ways she couldn’t explain, there were little things he did that just hit the spot and made her want to fuck him even harder. Y/N was practically bouncing on his cock, aching for him to let her have it inside.

“You’re such a good girl. Listening so fucking well.” Harry took his fingers from her mouth, smirking at the whine and slight chasing of his fingers when he placed it on her breast. She gave it all to him and honestly, he was ready to just... lose it. “Go ahead. Take what you want.” It was not even a moment later that he felt her begin to sink down. She was tight— so damn tight, and he choked slightly at just how good the squeeze was. He let out a hiss, head thrown back in the couch as the slick, hit cunt sucked over him, squeezing hard as she stretched open slowly. “Holy fuck.” He growled, gripping both hips now and looking at her with a darkness in his eyes. “You’re so bloody tight— Christ, you’re squeezin’ me so good.” He whispered.

“Daddy!” She whimpered as she slid farther down on his cock until she couldn’t fit anymore of him in. “I’m so full— feels so good.” Her eyes rolled back a bit as she began to bounce at a slowed rhythm. Small moans and little huffs came from her throat with every stroke of her hips, it wasn’t until she felt warmed up that she actually went for it. Y/N shifted so that she had better balance, keeping her hands on his shoulders before dropping back down on his cock. “Fuck!” She squeaked, making sure to clench one her way back up before repeating the action at a quicker pace. It felt incredible. He was touching every little part of her, feeling small waves of pleasure spread throughout her body. “Daddy! Fuck— feels so good ahhh!” Her moans were pornographic, whiny, desperate and needy. She didn’t even know she could sound like that, but apparently it was possible when she was as thirsty for cock as she was.

Never would he have guessed that this would be the outcome of their hang out. He had hoped, sure. Dreamed? Absolutely. But the reality was so much better. He had the hot, wet and extremely tight pussy gliding up and down his cock. She was moaning, tits bouncing in his face, and she was vocal. More than he could have asked for. The infatuation he had with her was only growing. 

“Fuck, you’re a good girl. Such a perfect little cunt. Like bouncing on my cock, hm? Knew you’d be the perfect girl for me. Keep going.” His hand squeezed her ass, encouraging her to work herself on him. “Feels so full, yeah? Such a big cock filling such a little pussy. A nice stretch for you hm? So eager to be filled up...” her face was of pure bliss and Harry couldn’t help but take a mental photo. He hoped this could happen more than this once. “Knew you’d be good for me. Throwin’ yourself in my lap and begging to be fucked. Never guessed you’d be such a little slut, but I love it.” He took his hand, bringing it down sharply on her ass.

“Fuck!” Y/N gasped, her own hand moving to cuff his neck. It wasn’t as effective as him doing it to her, but it got the point across. The both of them grabbing at each other roughly, him thrusting up into her each time she slammed down. It could only be described as pure ecstasy, surely the hottest sex she had ever had. She needed him, she needed him to cum. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from leaning down to kiss his mouth again, making a mess of the two of them. “You’re so fucking good— love your cock, daddy... fucking love it!” She moaned between kisses, increasing her pace just enough so she could fuck him hard and steady. “I want you to cum for me daddy, wanna feel it nice and deep.” Thank fuck for IUDs. “Want you to fill me up while I cum all over your cock, can you do that for me? Can you cum with me?”

He was panting, lowering himself so he could properly thrust into her sopping cunt. He hadn’t gotten any in so long but this blew any and everyone out of the water. No one could ever understand how good this was. All the pining and imagining had come to an even better conclusion. 

“I’ll do it... but you... gotta promise me.” He growled, giving a particularly sharp thrust inside of her, making her wail. “Promise me I can do it again. Let me have this pussy more.” He didn’t want it to end if it was the only time he could get it. It was too good to let go of. Drooling all over his cock and her soft whimpers and dirty words had him more worked up than anything else. “Promise, baby, and I’ll let you have my cum.”

“Promise— I promise— fuck!” She felt her breath get caught in her throat at the particularly hard thrusts Harry was giving her. “Please Daddy, please give it to me.” Y/N whimpered, moving her hands so they cupped his cheeks, keeping eye contact with him as they continued to relentlessly thrust into each other. There was nothing more satisfying, nothing that managed to hit every part of her both physically and spiritually and made her feel so alive. When you’ve wanted something for so long it makes getting it that much better and she knew that she’d always be chasing this high that only he could give her. “I’m so close, fuck, daddy—“ She mumbled between kisses, squeezing around him and continuing at her pace to bring herself to the perfect high. “Cum with me daddy, please— ah!”

Harry would work on his stamina next round. But after the whole thing, he was close to losing his mind. She was giving him the most tempting offer and he wasn’t going to give it up. 

“Oh— fuck me.” He thrusted in again and again before he let himself go. Feeling her clench up around him and sob against his mouth, he let out a deep growl as he buried himself deep. Hot cum shooting inside of her cunt, rocking his hips in to get it all in there. There was no doubt that this was some of the most intense sex of his life but he was almost ready to go again, as soon as it ended. Holding her shivering form, her orgasm was tapering, he could feel her clenching still. “That’s it. Take all of it inside of you. Good girl.”

Y/N gripped Harry’s shoulders, loud screams of pleasure coming straight from her throat. There were no words to describe the high, she almost felt out of her own body as he showered her with praise. With her body shaking and face contorting with a silent scream, she found it in her to come back down letting out a pathetic whimper.

“Daddy—” She swallowed thickly, mouth finding his messily, pressing kisses to his lips and his face. The two of them were both lightly covered in sweat, breathing heavily and enjoying each other’s company. Y/N was far too blissed out to think about what just happened, but blissed out enough to know there would be many more rounds of this tonight. Y/N smiled as she nuzzled against his neck, still sponging kissing to his dampened skin. “Better?” She mumbled, smirking against his skin a bit.

“Mm.” He hummed, hands holding her hips still. Holy hell. This was the beginning of an amazing weekend- because he didn’t plan on letting her out at all, if he could help it’ he wanted her to stay, to let him indulge in her. “So fucking good.” He muttered lowly, rubbing his hand up her back and smoothing over her skin. Fucks sake. This was paradise. Nothing could pop him out of this. 

At least, that was until the doorbell rang. 

“Ah, fuck. The pizza.”

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let us know what you think!

masterlist

[alice-in-wonderart]

Your writing is wonderful! I’m so happy I found your blog 😊 Could I request some nsfw hc’s for lan xichen, jin guangyao and nie huaisang? Like would they rather take care of s/o or be taken care of, who initiates first, etc. Thank you!

I'm sorry for the long wait, sweetie! It really took a while to get to the spice, but worry not, it's here to make our lives a little more interesting. Let the degenerates in us run wild~ P.S. I GET TO WRITE ABOUT JGY AND NHS CJSJXJS YAY I LOVE 'EM BOTH SM. ❤️💕❤️💕❤️💕❤️💕

Lan Xichen

Lan Xichen seems to be the sweeter, more mellow of the Twin Jades, but don't let that fool you. He is a wolf in sheep's clothing through and through. Behind that sweet smile there is an absolute beast. Part of the Lan genes, ig.

While sex isn't exactly the first thing on his mind, he's had his moments of weakness. But when you came into his life, it was a whole other story. Suddenly, he'd feel MUCH too drawn to you, his mind would occasionally wander to you, or rather - what you'd look like, underneath him, spread out on the silks of his bed, moaning his name, as he -

Gosh, he shouldn't be thinking about this in public.

"Everyday is everyday" doesn't exactly describe the humble Zewu-jun's tendencies, but he isn't any less feral. Intimacy with Lan Xichen is like fine wine - the longer the wait, the better the taste. And with his duty as sect leader, said intimacy would less often than any of you would want.

The moment you two are alone and neither is dead tired, he'd make sure to at least hint at what he desires. He'd leave heated kisses along your skin, run his fingers along your thighs, gently sliding under the fabric of your clothes. It would be pretty obvious what message he'd try to get across.

He'd usually prefer to be on top, since pleasuring you would be his number one priority. Besides, having you completely unravel underneath him would give him a sense of completion, of victory. He wouldn't be opposed to tying you up too.

He'd let you take the reigns occsionally, because of one single reason - watching you ride him is a sight he absolutely adores. The idea of you chasing your own orgasm, trying your very best to keep your balance, nails digging into his chest. Just thinking about it makes him harder than a rock.

And gosh, wrap his headband around your neck, or bite down on it and he'd lose his mind. After all - this is the highest form of intimacy, a sight for his eyes alone. You belonged to him, the way he belonged to you. (fking sap)

He may not be the most experimental per se, but he compensates with a dick worth millions and the stamina of an ancient beast. And it wouldn't take much to rile him up for more. He could easily go a few rounds and then some. He'd tire you out to a point of nearly passing out, before breaking a sweat. So much training really pays off.

Don't fuck with a Lan. Actually....fuck a Lan. Totally worth it.

His aftercare would be so sweet. He'd run both of you a nice bath to enjoy, or if it's too late and you're both tired out, he'd snuggle with you, playing with your hair, whispering how much he utterly adores you, before gradually falling asleep.

Jin Guangyao

Jin Guangyao has a specific air of gentle nobility to him, which often leads people to think he's more on the vanilla side of love-making. But boy, oh boy are they all so terribly wrong.

The boy has lived in a brothel. He's seen the difference between love-making and fucking, and he's mastered both. Sex with him is always a game of guessing, an endless array of surprises. One moment he will be kissing along your neck, gently whispering in your ear, the next he will be pounding into you mercilessly, deep and hard, until your legs go numb and you won't be able to walk for days.

He loves to be dominant and absolutely loves the thought of having you at his mercy. No, you're neither a toy, nor a possession, but he'd absolutely want to mark you up as his territory. He'd just do it in places which aren't visible to the public eye. You have dignity after all.

He'd also lowkey enjoy causing you mild pain. He wouldn't go too far, but the occasional slap on the ass, a bitemark turning blue, roughing up your insides, choking, the occasional rope, or even knife. He never goes full blown dom, but say you need him more than anything, that you miss him stretching you out and you're getting addicted to the pleasure and the pain, and he'd be on you in 5 seconds flat.

Speaking of biting, that's a kink he's more than open to admit. He adores leaving marks on that soft skin of yours. He doesn't care if you hide them, as long as you're aware they're there.

The more he trusts you, the more he'd initiate. He has a reputation to keep up, so becoming part of his private life would be difficult. Keep in mind, you have a lot of walls to climb over to get to him, but once you do - my gosh. You two are in bed ready to sleep? One look and you aready know it's gonna be a rough night. You're taking a shower? He's totally going to join and would make sure you help him clean up very thoroughly. Walking down one of the many vacant corridors in Koi Tower? He'd push you against the wall, spread your legs and make you see stars.

His movements are always carefully calculated, too. With that big brain of his he'd memorize each and every sensitive part of your body and use it to his advantage. He'd tease you to a point of begging and then deny your release until you're seconds away from breaking.

The aftercare is utterly phenomenal. He cares about you deeply, so he'd make sure you're feeling your best after one of your many sleepless nights. He'd clean you up, gently caressing any bitemark he's left, whispering sweet nothings in your ears, then dress you up in the finest silk, and depending on the time - either snuggle up with you to fall asleep, or make you some tea and fetch the two of you some breakfast. Who cares he's psychotic when he's literal perfection.

Nie Huaisang

Nie Huaisang is totally demonic and we all know it. Sex is definitely not a new subject for him. After all he owns enough porn to cover half of the Unclean Realm's grounds. And believe me, he's learned quite a bit from it. Though all the porn in the world can't satisfy his needs, thankfully you're there to lend a helping hand.

He's a 100% switch and he owns it. Sometimes he wants to roll around in bed, bratty and needly like a total pillow prince, letting you take him however you like. Other times, he'd spend hours slowly peeling off your clothes, long fingers working wonders between your legs, teasing you and exploring your body, him permanently burning his name onto your heart.

He is pretty experimental, there isn't much he wouldn't be willing to try, but if he doesn't like something, he'll never do it again, periodt. Love-making to him is a form of art and he loves exploring it to its fullest.

Teasing you in public is one of his specialties. Hidden, risqué touches, heated stares behind intricate fans, dirty promises mumbled into the skin of your neck, robes riding up or slipping off, your or his alike. Likewise, doing it in public, or more so - in a close enough vicinity, wouldn't be uncommon either. Quickies are his specialty. He can get you off nearly everywhere and he takes great pride in that. He loves the effect he has on you and how both of you seem a little more disheveled afterwards.

His biggest turn on is oral. He could spend hours buried between your legs, drowning in your desire, making you come so many times you lose sense of reality. That mouth definitely ain't just for talking. And god, does he like it messy. He loves it when you pull on his hair, thrust into his mouth, or squirm from the over-sensitivity. He loves having to pin you down and pull you towards him. He loves feeling your legs on his shoulders, he loves it all so much, he could come from that alone.

And similarly, get on your knees to suck him off and he will turn into absolute putty in your arms. He'll start off all cocky, of course. We're talking about Nie Huaisang after all. "Oh? You want a taste of me that badly? Well who am I to refuse..." But that attitude of his would fade the moment your lips wrap around him. With fingers tangled in your hair and shaky moans escaping his lips, he'd be at your mercy. Deny his release a few times and he might even beg. Might.

Of course, it never just ends with oral, unless there is absolutely no time left for more. Though even then, he'd make some time. Why work, when you have a lover to please.

Nie Huaisang ALWAYS gets hungry afterwards. So, he'd often go and bring the two of you a third of a feast to munch on. You know the cliché, where you light a cigarette after a good lovemaking? He gets food. Any kind of food. And everybody knows, that if Sect Leader Nie barges in with half a ton of food in his arms, chances are, you won't appear until much, MUCH later, a rosy pink on your cheeks and that tell tale gloss in your eyes.

Thank you for reading~

[thegracelessfaceless]

Hi love bug! Thank you so much in advance. Seeing your stuff in my ask box always makes me super happy.

So, I’m Elsie, she/her/hers, and bi (but I lean heavily towards men rn). I’m a Virgo sun, Scorpio rising and Aquarius moon. I’m also an introvert, but I love being around other people! I just get,,,,, tired easily.

I’m East Asian + Southeast Asian (Chinese and Vietnamese). I’m barely 5’0 tall! Long, black hair that reached my upper thighs and dark brown eyes that you can’t even see the pupil lmfao. I always have painted nails, usually red. I’m pretty athletic and I also like to think I have nice thighs—most of my workouts include building up my legs lol. I wear big gold hoop earrings. I also wear round Harry Potter glasses. My body isn’t very curvy, in fact I’m pretty flat but I am COVERED in stretch marks. I also have acne flare ups from time to time but it’s usually nothing noticeable anymore.

I’d like to think I’m a pretty chill person, likes to go with the flow and stuff like that. My friends say I’m often their therapist or their mom, which is kinda funny because that’s what I’m in uni for, to be a therapist. I’m a pretty determined and motivated person? I like to push myself pretty hard ngl but I also like to just hang out and take it slow. I also like to do stupid things like exploring abandoned buildings at 2am. I’m also big into intersectional feminism. I’ve also been told I’m really approachable and friendly, but bro I am so shy and quiet in public unless I get to know you.

I can get pretty stubborn tbh, it depends once again on what the topic is but once I’ve set my mind to it, that’s how it’s going to be. I also have low self esteem and my depression sometimes makes it hard for me to even get out of bed at times. I usually don’t know when to stop giving myself to other people, which means I get pretty exhausted and fast. I’m also prone to overthinking which stresses me out. And when I’m stressed, I can honestly get a little bitey.

I apologize to inanimate objects if I’ve bumped into them, and I also have a tendency to talk to myself? I also am a witch! I’m currently elbows deep in some deity work and ngl my energy is all over the place. I also have a weird habit of waving to security cameras I see in public because I like to think the people watching those cameras get a kick out of it lol.

I really like coffee, tea, singing with my ukulele, playing piano, drawing and art in general. I haven’t been able to draw as much as I’d like recently but I do have some animatics in my head. I also really like Victoria’s Secret perfumes, specifically strawberry pound cake—it’s what I always smell like lol. Crystals are super fun imo. I live next to a huge lake and it’s honestly one of my favorite places to be. Ocean animals are my favorite! I also really like car rides with like, one other person and just exploring the world and talking. The music I listen to is a lot of classic rap, lofi-hip hop, modern rap, some pop artists and Ella Fitzgerald, Gloria Gaynor, HaroinFather, KYLE, and ofc Hollywood Undead.

I cannot stand centipedes those things horrify me. I also don’t like rude people, bigots, people who purposely start drama or hypocrites. People who put other people down aren’t cool either. I don’t really like parties or being around lots of people, they make me anxious and kinda suffocated. People who try to force me to do stuff aren’t cool in my books either. I also think red meat is kinda gross, but that’s just because it makes me exhausted.

Eeeee I am so sorry if this is too much, but thank you so much in advance. Nothing but love to you, and all your future writing and everything you’ve done so far. 💕

Heyy! I almost hit the roof when your follow came in 😅.

So I told myself that Brian and Hoody are disqualified because of obvious bias, but, damn you make it hard!

So, Brian aside, I match you with...

The Puppeteer/Jonathan Blake

I know, I know, odd choice right?

But you came under his attention, and just when he thought you were getting ready to bend to his will, you'd rally. He found it... Refreshing that you keep fighting, no matter how low you feel.

Of course, he had to be persistent in gaining your trust. You weren't falling for his smooth talking ways. He tried not to use any information gained from his psychic gifts... but if they helped him know something you've really been wanting or something that's bothering him, that's a different story. It took him years to gain your trust and that was only after he slipped and let some of his old self, from before he became The Puppeteer, out. You seemed to prefer that side of him, so he revealed it more frequently.

Jonathan is an introvert too, and like you, being around other people can tire him out. He prefers nights in or long car rides with you with some good but soft music playing.

Jonathan finds it ironic that you want to be a therapist while his main method of feeding is by intensifying depression symptoms. In ways, you've softened him. He'll spare those who seem to have the drive to live. But he views it as a friendly competition of sorts. Like a married couple of lawyers, but one works for the prosecution and the other works for the defense. How many souls can you save verses how many he can take?

Jonathan will listen to every crystal fact you have, and want to know more about your witchiness. He's like a sponge. Throw information at him and he's soaking it up.

Let's gloss over the fact that he can control golden threads from his fingers. I'm sure it'll come up in #just chatting.

Jonathan is a caffeine addict, that and cigarettes are what fueled him when he first went to college. He loves drawing with you over a hot cup of coffee.

Eat what you want, Jonathan doesn't really care. He might take a bite of something every now and then, but he doesn't really need it. This makes it so he finds your scent... Intoxicating.

[navalcriminalimagines]

summary: you became fuck buddies with Rafael after your friend Rita played matchmaker. As a FBI agent, you’re helping SVU during the manhunt of Yates and Rudnick.

words: 3,141

warnings: smut, pegging, sub/dom, sexting, alcohol

i’m very insecure about writing smut... let me know if i’m doing to good job or if i should stop... also, sorry for the typos..

High hopes

Rafael Barba wished he had stayed in bed today. The day kept getting worse and worse. He was stuck in Rikers Island for hours, only to find out that Yates and Rudnick escaped. He growled and wished he could go back to last night, in bed with you.

You met Rafael through Rita Calhoun, or so to speak. You waited in front of the courthouse one day, to go to lunch with your friend, and she was walking down with a handsome dark-haired man. She gave you a quick sign, telling you to wait a minute, but you walked up to them instead. “What don’t you understand in this sign?” she asked, raising her forefinger, just like she did a minute ago.

“I understand this one better,” you showed your middle finger, with a big grin. You heard her friend laughing on your left.

“Very elegant, Y/N.” she answered. “Barba, we’ll go back to that later. Giving you time to come to your senses,”

“To put your hopes too high, Rita,”

“You must be ADA Barba,” you interrupted them and offered your hand to him.

“And you are?” he asked, taking his time to shake your hand.

“Agent Y/N Y/L/N, FBI. Rita’s cutest friend,”

“Cute, indeed,” Barba agreed, even if he would say beautiful, sexy and powerful.

“Dear god, I’m gonna throw up,” Rita spoke up. “You know what, Y/N, I’ll give you his number and you’ll contact him so I don’t have to watch this,”

And Rita did give you his number. You tentatively texted him a few days after, to which he openly responded. In a few days, you and Rafael had your first physical encounter. Rules are simple; just sex, no feelings. Rafael was fine with it, casual relationships have been his thing for many years but it always ends because the other caught feelings. Never him. On your side, you just never fell really in love. You had boyfriends, you had feelings, but never enough to make it work. You know this comes from your sad childhood but you never wanted to give a try to some therapy bullshit. You were fine with it.

Sex with Rafael was amazing. Actually, ‘amazing’ is a small word to what it actually was. The best you ever had. But no chance in hell, you let him know that. His ego’s already big enough, he doesn’t need to feel more cocky in bed. It was so good though, it became more and more regular. You couldn’t get enough of each other. And as you started to trust more one another, you began to try new things. Try, discover.

You and Rafael were so damn compatible sexually speaking. And you both managed to keep feelings out of it. Or so you thought.

That day became such a mess, FBI got brought in. When Rafael saw you walking into the precinct, he felt his body reacting immediately. “Not the time to get aroused, Rafael,” he warned himself. But how could he not? You had that powerful strut, like you owned the room. Rafael had never been into badass women before, he likes that in men. But you were a badass and god how it turns him on. He thought about the few times you got dominant on him. He needs more of that. He needs more of you.

He watched you introducing yourself to Olivia, and then to the rest of the squad. When you finally noticed him, you just gave him a nod before walking over to him. “Field Agent Y/L/N, me and my team are here to find your two escaped prisoners,” you had a smile plastered on your face. As if it was fun to you. “Don’t worry, I do that every day of the week,” you added, loud enough so the squad heard.

“This is bad, Y/N,” he said, barely above a whisper. You could feel he was extremely tense, he must go through a lot of pressure because of the situation.

After a briefing with everyone involved in the search, you quickly grabbed your phone and texted Rafael.

When this is all over, I’ll suck the pressure out of you.

You can read him. He hates it. But your text got him more aroused.

Rafael stayed at the precinct all night long, waiting for good news. You were around somewhere, chasing after Yates and Rudnick. He was exhausted. He couldn’t wait for this to be over.

Find them, babygirl. I don’t know how long I can wait. He texted you. Was it bad to think about you, your body, your most intimate parts, in a time like this? Probably. But it made this night go faster. He’s an ADA, there’s nothing he can do, except waiting. Many times he was told to go home. He could have. But he wanted you to take him home. He didn’t want to leave without you.

Maybe he was screwed already.

Still up, Sir, huh? Can’t go to sleep without a good fuck?

Y/N, do you really want to sext during a manhunting you’re leading?

Dodds driving. He thinks I’m exchanging with my team. To be fair, I am. You like when we sext, don’t you?

You know I do. But this is not an appropriate time to make me hard.

Cause sending me a pic of you masturbating while I’m out with my friends is appropriate, maybe?

Aw, still mad about that, babygirl? I thought you liked it.

I did. But you still haven’t paid for that.

Wasn’t I a good boy last night?

Hell, no and you know it. A good boy doesn’t come until he’s allowed to.

Whoops…

More punishment to come, Rafaelito. Just you wait.

Damn. Be fast, Y/N.

Everyone was out there looking for the two fugitives, so Rafael went to the restroom. He was getting really hard and he just wanted to stroke himself. But he couldn’t. The guilt gets the best of him. He can’t masturbate in SVU’s restroom in the middle of a manhunting. This is highly inappropriate. He couldn’t help but to look at nudes you sent him, though. After the first one you sent, you asked for his phone and made it secure. He had to enter a password to access the files where all your pictures were. There’s one he particularly loves and it’s not nude you sent. It’s a picture he took one night, while he had you handcuffed to his bed frame. He had just made you cum with his tongue and fingers, you had bites marks and hickeys on your body. You looked desperate in a good way. Your lips were swollen for all the kissing. He stood up on the bed, with his phone in hand. “Wh—what are you doing?” You asked, out of breath and confused.

“Immortalising my work of art,” he said and snapped the picture. “You’re so damn beautiful when you come down from your high, with all of these marks I made,”

What was he doing? Was he falling for you? No, he can’t. You have rules. He just fell for your fucking body. Your perfect body he can’t stop thinking about. He gave himself a few strokes while looking at the pictures but he got stopped by a text from Liv, saying they got Rudnick. He became self conscious about what he was doing. He zipped himself back in his pants, answered to Liv and waited until his erection was gone.

It took a few more hours before you found Yates too. He had been shot by you. Rafael didn’t know what to make of it. You never talk about your job or his, he doesn’t know how you’ll feel about killing someone. Maybe he won’t have sex for now. He had to go to his office anyway.

Putting an all nighter isn’t for him anymore. Poor man was exhausted, so he allowed himself a quick nap on his couch in the afternoon. He woke up, too his phone and saw he had a text from you.

Meet me tonight? My place?

Yes, please.

He showed up at your apartment around 7. He still didn’t know what to expect. He knocked and heard you saying it was open. He let himself in. He had come to your apartment three or four times only, you mostly met at his place. But he loves your apartment, it was minimalist but cozy, with a specific smell that was yours. He spotted you on your couch, a glass of wine in hand and another one of scotch waiting on the coffee table. He dropped his suitcase next to your kitchen counter and went to sit next to you.

“How are you?” He asked after a moment.

“Exhausted. I’m too old for sleepless nights,”

He laughed at that. You’re younger than him. “Don’t tell me about it,”

“Why did you stay? You could’ve gone back home. An ADA isn’t much help in a manhunt,”

“You ‘do that everyday of the week’, I thought it wouldn’t take you long to get them and that I could go home with you,”

“Teasing me, Rafael? Aren’t you in deep trouble already?”

“A little more, a little less. Who cares?”

“Finish your drink and get on your knees in front of me, Barba,”

He was in deep trouble every time you called him ‘Barba’. He did as told, he took the last sip of his scotch and got on his knees in front of you, waiting for your instructions. “Undress me,” you ordered. He undid your dark cargo pants, you lift your hips so he could take it off you. He then took off your blue blouse. You were in your underwear, matching dark purple lace. “Matching underwear, huh?” He smiled.

“Did I say you could talk?” You snapped.

“No ma’am. Sorry,” he swallowed. He was so hard already.

“Your case is getting worse, Barba. I want you to make me feel good, okay? You gonna take that silver tongue on yours and make me cum hard in your mouth,”

He nodded and softly traced his way on your thigh to your pussy with his mouth. He gave you a few kisses above the fabric of your panties and he put them aside. You were so wet and hot. He loved it but he didn’t say anything. He lapped a few times your clit, made small circles with his tongue before he gently hit it and sucked. He heard you moan and felt your nails on his scalp. He could cum by just eating you, but he had to control himself. He failed you two nights before, he can’t do it again. Rafael ate you like a starved man, until he felt your muscles tensing. You came on his face, chanting his name as you did. He felt proud. You were still coming down your high when you ordered him to go into the bedroom and wait for you, naked on your bed.

Rafael waited for what seemed to be hours. He had no idea what you were doing in the living room. He was naked on your bed and his erection was losing up. You finally joined him, with a glass of wine in one hand. You took sight of you as you drank. He felt like a prey and he loved every second of it. The look on your face as you looked at him was overwhelming. He felt like he was some kind of a sex god. “Getting tired, Barba?” You asked, finishing your drink.

“Never,” he answered, eagerly.

You put the glass on your desk and got on the bed. Your body was covering his and you kissed him deeply. You felt his cock getting hard against your abdomen. “Do you trust me?” You asked. For a moment, there was no game. No dominance. You just needed his trust and he gave it to you with a nod. You smiled, kissed him again and went to your closet.

You knew about Rafael’s bisexuality and you thought he was the one you could try the fantasy with. You came back and dropped a box next to the bed. He had no idea what was inside but he couldn’t wait to find out. But first, you wanted to go down on him. Your body over his, you gently kissed his neck and chest, biting here and there. “Hands above your head,” you said. “You don’t touch me, unless I allow you to,”

“Yes ma’am,” he answered, breathing hard from the teasing. He loves when you worship his body like this. It makes him feel good looking, sexy even.

“I’m gonna suck your big cock, Rafaelito. But if you come in my mouth, we won’t see each other for a long moment,” you warned him and he whined. “Show me what a good boy you are, or I’ll find someone else,”

Rafael tried to ignore the twinge in his heart when you said that. He doesn’t want you to find someone else. “I’ll be good, Y/N. I promise,” he breathed out. He was dying to touch you, kiss your body just like you’re kissing his. He was dying to fuck you senseless and ruin every other man for you.

The first lick you gave on his cock made him jump. “God,” he muttered. “Think about some boring law stuff,” he told himself. You took an enormous time licking and kissing his length before finally taking him in your mouth. You feel so warm, so good. You sucked him for a moment, you could feel his hips moving so his cock could hit the bottom of your throat. You watched him losing it. Rafael was fighting his urge to grab your hair and guide your mouth on him. You sucked his balls to give him a rest, but his cock was throbbing. He wanted to come, so bad. You went back to his long and heavy length, until you felt him grabbing your face and pulling you off. “I—I was about to—“ he was out of breath, “I’m sorry. Lo siento,” Rafael was all sweaty, his heart was racing so hard, he was sure you could hear it. “You’re so good—you—“ you shut him with a kiss and used your body to make him lay down again.

He took the opportunity to run his hands over your body. Since you didn’t say anything, he kept going and felt your skin under his fingers. He knew you were giving him time to recover, to gain control of his orgasm, but no matter what you had in mind next, he wasn’t going to last long. “Need a drink?” You gently offered.

“I—I’d like to, yes,”

He watched your ass sway as you left the room. You had grabbed your empty glass on the way, and came back with both glasses full. You sat to his side while you both drunk. He was staring. “Are you okay?” He asked.

You smiled. “Sure. Aren’t you?”

“On the edge,” he giggled.

You leaned in to kiss him. It wasn’t like the usual kisses. It was soft, tender, almost loving. “Your relief is coming, don’t worry,” you smiled against his mouth.

Once you both had finished your drinks, you finally showed him what was in the box. Among other things was a strap-on. You showed it to Rafael and saw his eyes darken. You needed his approval. “What do—?” You started to ask but he cut you off.

“Yes, yes! Yes, please,”

His reaction was better than you imagined. With a grin on your face, you jumped back on your bed and asked him to grab the lub from the nightstand. “To be honest, I’ve never done that before,” you giggled. Rafael could see you were a little tipsy - and maybe nervous? - but he trusted you anyway.

He cupped your cheek. “I trust you, Y/N. I’m all yours,” there was more means to this. He was yours in so many ways.

Before you started, he made one request. He wanted to be on his back while you fucked him with the strap-on. He wanted to see you, to look at you. He also wanted you to see him. Your looks make him feel so good.

After agreeing, you started to work on his butthole. You gently stroked with your saliva at first, and put some lube on your fingers before you slid one in him. He let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding. You gently worked on opening him. You were watching him all along, looking for any sign of discomfort on his face, but all you could see was pleasure. “Fuck me with it, please, Y/N,” he begged. Rafael was so hard, so excited, he didn’t know how long he could control himself.

You lined the plastic cock with his open butthole. “You can do better than that, Rafael,”

“Give it to you, I’m begging you. I need you to fuck me good, mi amor,” neither you or him paid attention to the pet name.

You gently pushed the strap-on into Rafael. Still staring at his face to see if it was okay, but he kept begging for more. After it was all in, you started to thrust into him. Slow and deep at first, you watched the plastic thing disappearing inside his ass, and Rafael’s cock rocking hard. “I’m gonna—I need to come, Y/N, please,”

Poor thing was on the edge more than he ever been. “Come for me, Rafael,”

He grabbed his cock and gave himself a few strokes until he came hard, screaming your name in the middle of Spanish curses. You were already soaking wet but the sight of him coming as you were fucking him, could’ve made you come too. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

As he was coming down from his orgasm, he saw you on the edge of the bed, fingering yourself. You needed the relief too. Rafael used his last strength to sit up and replace your fingers with his. He fingerfucked you and sucked on your nipples. You were holding him so close to your chest, he could barely breathe but he didn’t mind. He kept going until you came. He caught your moans with his mouth and watched you falling apart.

Screw the rules, he was in love.

Once you both came down, Rafael was scared you’d asked him to leave. No cuddling was also a rule. But tonight you didn’t care. You turned off the light and crawled into bed with him. “Does that mean I can stay?” He asked.

You tiredly giggled. “You’re asking now that I turned off the light?”

“Just wanted to make sure,” he said. “Can I hold you though?”

“Spoon or nothing,” you said.

Spooning you was perfect to Rafael.

[delvalentine]

Hello! Can I have a romantic matchup for tears of themis please?

Appearance : 5'4 ace/heteromantic girl ambivert.Dark brown hair/eyes (I wear glasses but they are also sun glasses because bright lights give me a headache) a little chubby/muscled and pale skin+permanent smirk/smile/ neutral face. Plump lips. My style varies a lot (always comfy) but I never wear dresses heels/makeup. I love to imagine outfits with symbols from fandoms or my own drawings so I have a rather unique style (most of the time I wear a NASA jacket and leather boots/sneakers, I also love sleeveless turtleneck) who changes a lot. I have malleable cheeks and tiny hands/fingers/wrist.

MBTI: INTP-T and chaotic neutral/good

Zodiac: Gemini

Personality : .Sarcastic,a little naive but I have a backbone (don't bother flirting with me and if you feel that I am flirting with you which happens a lot then it's just my personality and on the rare occasion I notice they have to confess or I won't believe it) ,calculative,protective,creative,expressive,manipulative,a devil's advocate,prideful,charismatic, smartass, bookworm, daydreamer, a little insensitive/blunt because I'm more on the logical side ,vengeful, mischievous, a huge tease, open minded, very curious, gets annoyed easily, impatient (unless it's in drawing because I am a perfectionist there) so kind of a bad temper, observant but not romantically,sadistic to a point but my conscience prevents me from doing these acts. Indifferent to many things, morally ambiguous as my moral compass is on the neutral side I don't believe in absolute evil/good, y'all better thank my conscience they work too well I never have fun.

With my friends I am either laughing, goofing around or annoyed. I love to give bad puns or cursed ideas who are gore/weird and saying I know y all love me. Those who don't talk to me see me as a nerd aggressive smart and blunt person ( even prideful) and strangers as polite and kind. I notice a lot of details because I don't let my guard down even if I daydream plus I have a photographic + sound memory and they work very well in all situations which can be a bother when I try to concentrate which is difficult for me because I get distracted easily. Also I have very weird reflexes so...anyone who approaches me by surprise gets hit, any sudden movement and I already have my leg/arm going their way which got me into a lot of trouble.

Dislikes: I fight for my beliefs. I have trust issues so I never talk about my problems and will use humor when confronted. Bright lights. Cooking. Slow things or people. When I get teased in a mean way (otherwise I actually like being teased it's a fun fight after). People who change side easily and hypocrites. Overly serious people. I tend to be aggressive and expose an annoyed face easily (I am moody), plus I hate orders and love pressing buttons it's funny(in a fun way rarely in a mean one) unless it's a sensitive subject. When I feel that I am unwanted or someone insults me or take me for granted I become very cold and distance myself and the relationship becomes strained the more they take time to ask for forgiveness, something I might give but will never forget.

Likes: I love cats/laughter/sweets/pranks/dark humour/ a true crime and Supernatural enthusiast and I love science especially concerning space, chemistry, robotic and psychology. Books, sleep, drawing and video games too. Cherries. Sushi.Oh and debates I love them. Surprises too I hate routine and runs away from it. I like making character analysis which I often get right but never show to the people around me because I know they will trust me less.

Hobbits : Reading, getting lost in a book, drawing, learning, debating, daydreaming, sports (I practice karate and shooting), art (piano/drawing/writing especially poetry) and video games

I have some bad habits like biting my nails (I just got rid of it by painting them black)/lips and moving my leg up and down because I am always nervous, disorganized room/sleep and eating schedule plus I am lazy. Also I might try to hide it but I am very competitive and a sore loser

Fun fact : I dream a lot and write my dreams. I don't mind nightmares on the contrary I welcome them because I find them to be a nice experience and they give me ideas plus the amount of emotions you can feel is amazing. I also tend to curse while talking.

When I get hurt, none takes me seriously because I start laughing uncontrollably even if it hurts a lot. Which means if I get stabbed, I am not dying of blood lost, nooo I am dying of laughter.

I rarely get motivated but when I do I give a very good work and put my soul in it, if I don't reach my goal I feel down for a while and become very snappy.

I am a lazy student (hell if I don't feel like writting I don't especially exercises that I understood) but also at top of my class so none says anything (i can befriend people easily if I want to, teachers included). My projects are often done last minute or just improvisation but I get a good mark at them which means that yes sometimes I can become arrogant and I don't really know what it feels like to study really hard and fail sorry. But I know it will bite me later. I often argue my way out of a situation with anyone : I know the exercise why should I write it? If I told you the answer then I know how I got it and you know it too no need for me to write the correction. Mum the brain is a muscle too so I am in fact exercising.

When dealing with an emotional person I don't know what to do I will try to give them words to keep going, it succeed but I am rather harsh plus I try to make jokes to cheer them up.But if a friend breaks down before me I will do my best to cheer them up (ahem jokes and reminding them of all the success they achieved) and if I am comfortable and they want a hug I will give it. I hate people who denies that others helped them.

My love language is gifts, quality time, a little act of service and affection in private if comfortable. I also love to send memes saying it reminds me of us/you and holding pinkies.

I am stubborn, moody (one day I can be really cold/snappy to the person because I am in a bad mood but I apologize after). I speak Arabic, french and English (in that order) and trying to learn italian. I am also an only child.

Thank you!

vyn richter

vyn has an ambiguous moral compass that would allow the two of you to be more compatible than with the others who are more goody two-shoes type. he has an extensive understanding of the human psyche and doesn't need you to explain yourself; he just gets you.

he finds your dream log fascinating, and also respects that you don't fear nightmares. often times the two of you might get together for tea and discuss the meanings, having actual conversations instead of just "how are you" "good" and letting it die there.

vyn is an academic and would welcome debate with you. instead of getting hostile or making it seem like fighting, the debates would be properly intellectual. he would quietly try to motivate you as well, perhaps baking your favourite treat, and being cruel enough to withhold them until you get something done. in turn, he needs to you balance out his seriousness, introducing him to new standards of life he dismissed earlier.

[honeyoongiah]

JJK | Wolves | pt. 1

Pairings: Jungkook x Ina (reader), Wooyoung x Ina (reader)

Genre: Gang! JJK, tattoed JJK, angst, smut, fluff

Words: 2,1k

Warnings: explicit sex, cursing, violence

Summary: After Inas relationship with the influential Wooyoung broke off, she tried finding someone on he Eastside who was willing to remove her tattoo for her, but no one wanted to help. Drastic situations require drastic solutions she thought and made her way to the Westside.

A/N: Surprise, I am back! At least i hope this will get me back on track with writing (: enjoy the first chapter 

"You knew this dress would get me distracted huh?", he groaned into her ear while pressing her body against the table. "Well, let's say I thought about that possibility.", she answered with a cheeky grin. "You spent way too much time with your friends Woo, I need attention too."

"Well here you have it." His hand wandered over her breasts, kneading them harshly until a moan escaped her mouth. "But they're more than my friends, this is business." Ina rolled her eyes at his words. "Shut up and fuck me.", she demanded, knowing that her tone most likely annoyed the shit out of his dominant side.

As expected, her boyfriend wasn't fond of that and grabbed her chin. "You don't tell me what to do.", he answered, shoving one of his legs between hers and forcing her to move against it. Ina whined, rolling her hips against his thigh to feel at least something. "Please Wooyoung I need you I've been waiting for this all day."

"Finally you remembered how to talk to me.", he let out a chuckle before turning her around and pressing his lips against her neck. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you." Ina just nodded, her hands holding onto the table for some stability while Wooyoung pulled her dress up and gave her a little spank. "God just fuck me.", she whined "Please."

A cheeky grin appeared on his face. He sure loved it when she was begging for him. "I won't make you wait anymore baby." He quickly pulled her panties down and opened his belt, not wasting a second without being inside of her anymore. "Fuck.", Ina breathed out. "You love it when I fill you hm?", her boyfriend grinned, moving hard while grabbing her ass.

As much as she wanted to talk back right now, to make him lose this cheeky grin, he was totally right. Ina couldn't do much but moan in pleasure when he pushed her body down on that table and hit just the right spots that made her knees tremble. "Fuck you're so tight baby.", he groaned, grabbing a fist full of her hair to pull it.

"W-Wooyoung ah.", she moaned in response, her nails scratching on that table as she wished it was his back instead. Just as he thrusted harder, making Ina almost reach full bliss biting her lip in anticipation, they heard a knock.

"Not now.", he grunted, holding a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet, not ready to stop just because someone could get in. "Uhm but Woo, the appointment you made, he's here now."

"Ah shit.", was the last thing Ina heard before he pulled his pants back up, searching for his phone in the room. "Are you for real right now?", she asked him, not just slightly angry about his behaviour. "I'm sorry babe but this is important for us. You know how it is."

Ina rolled her eyes and pulled her dress down after getting her panties into place. "Yeah sure I know how it is, it's always the same and I'm sick of it." Not much to her surprise, she gained a laugh. "And still you're here with me, begging me to fuck you."

"You can be such an asshole."

________________________________________

His gloves were already right next to the needle, everything cleaned up properly and sterile. "Don't worry, it won't hurt as much as everyone says. Don't listen to Hoseok in particular, he can't even deal with being pinched.", he said with a warm smile. "Ah shut up!"

The girl chuckled and then nodded, her face still revealing that she was nervous but determined to do this. "I'll be gentle and quick and you can tell me whenever you need a break." - "O-okay." He put the gloves on and started to rub a tiny cloth on her arm to make that spot sterile.

"The golden wolf is so nice to girls, just never to his hyungs.", Hoseok complained. "That's not true, I bought you Tacos yesterday and you said I am the best.", he grinned at him. The girl chuckled again, visibly feeling more comfortable when they joked around.

"I'll start now.", he said, already focused on the spot that he'll put his art on. There was no way he would ever make a mistake on a humans body. Carefully putting the needle on, he began to tattoo the ink into her skin. "And? Does it hurt a lot?", he asked and looked up to check if she was fine. "It's okay! I can handle it."

She gained a grin in response. "You're very brave Maya. I'm glad we have you here now." - "Hey stop flirting with her don't make her uncomfortable!" The golden Wolf just raised an eyebrow without looking up, his eyes never leaving the needle. "I am not flirting I'm just welcoming our newest wolf."

Maya smiled happily at his words. "Thank you so much for this. You don't know how much this means to me.", she said with a drop of sadness in her voice. For a minute that lasted like an eternity, the room got silent. Just the dull sound of the needle echoed through the tiny tattoo studio.

After he finished up the symbol on her arm and put film over it, he looked into her eyes with a sad smile. "We know. Having the little sister of him here means a lot to us too. I'm happy you chose to be a part of us."

Tears gathered in Mayas eyes, just a blink away from falling down. "Of course. He was so happy here. He was thankful to be a part of the wolves every day of his life." He nodded, thinking back to the shared memories. "You're officially a wolf now. Welcome to our family. You'll never be alone again."

_______________________________________

With every minute that passed while Ina sat in his room waiting for him, she grew more angry and felt simply dumb. Their priorities weren't the same, all he thought about was this stupid gang stuff so he could feel like he was in charge. Every cell of his body was filled with his immense ego and once again Ina started to think of what the hell she was doing this for.

Her fingers tapped on the couch, her eyes searching for something interesting to kill the time but it wasn't much to look at. The couch she sat on, a small table in front of it, a comfortable black chair and the big table she got fucked on without getting the release she needed.

It was a small room that Wooyoung used as an office to meet his partners and clients at. It wasn't the first time for Ina to sit and wait here until her boyfriend found some time. She got sick of it. Sick of waiting for him, sick of being sexually frustrated, sick of being treated as if she was his toy that he could play with anytime. Even though the last part sounded hot to her, it was far away from hot if it was your daily life.

Ina grabbed her bag and walked out of the room, looking around for where Wooyoung could be. The building wasn't too big, so it shouldn't have been hard for her to find him. She walked straight to the conference room, where she expected him to be, and opened the door without bothering to knock.

A woman with a light blue dress sat right next to her boyfriend, her hand on his chest while he was caressing her thigh with his. "Are you fucking kidding me now?", Ina raised her voice. Wooyoungs eyes widened when he realized who just came in. "Didn't I tell you to wait in the office?"

"Am I your fucking dog?! Did you ditch me so you can fuck her here instead?", she screamed, not wasting a look at the woman who got visibly embarrassed by this. Her cheeks got red when she grabbed her purse to leave. "Hey no wait-", Wooyoung said, trying to convince her to stay, but she already disappeared around the corner.

"Well congratulations you fucking ruined my meeting.", he said with an angry tone, his eyes on Ina now, but she just laughed. "This is what you call a meeting? Are you always fucking with other women when you have a meeting?"

Wooyoung sighed, highly annoyed by this conversation. "I didn't fuck her and I was not about to, I just flirted with her for the business. I wanted to get her to agree on my deal and sometimes that's what I need to do, don't act like a jealous kid."

Ina was perplexed. Her mouth was open, but her brain couldn't decide on what to say first. She didn't believe that he wouldn't have fucked her for his gang and that said it all for her. "We're done. I'm done with this bullshit I'm done with you,", she said in a cold voice that surprised him and almost surprised herself.

"Don't say that baby you know you need me.", he answered in a softer tone while he reached out for her to pull her close. "Not even now you can tell me that you need me or that you love me. The only thing you truly care about is yourself, your gang and your money."

Ina could tell that these words definitely hit a nerve, because Wooyoung never looked at her with that amount of anger in his eyes. "Ah is that so? What about you then?! My money didn't bother you when I bought you pretty dresses and when I went on vacation with you you ungrateful bitch."

"Excuse me?!" - "Admit it the only reason you didn't leave already is because I have money and you need a good fuck.", he snapped, grabbing his wallet out of his pocket to throw his banknotes at her. "There you go you greedy slut take what you want and leave."

"Fucking asshole.", was the last and only thing she said to him before turning around and leaving this building as fast as she could. She heard him shout "You'll come back eventually baby!" before the door fell shut behind her.

_________________________________________

"No I'm dead serious, there is no one on the Eastside that is willing to help me.", Ina whined on the phone. The rain was falling down like crazy, Ina thought they feel like little rocks hitting her body. "I asked like four or five studios already, but they just send me away! No matter what I am willing to pay, they don't care."

"Ah, do you think this is Woo's fault?" - "Who else than him could be at fault? The Eastside fucking loves this dumb asshole.", she grumbled in frustration, her hair dripping and sticking onto her face. "Everyone looks at me like I'm their enemy. This city hates me."

She heard her friend sigh. "Things got really messed up for you lately huh?" Ina laughed at her friends words. "You could say it like that, yeah. I need a new job, I'm going through a breakup and my ex rules over the city I live in. Wonderful, I love my life."

"I just don't get why he refuses to let anyone get your tattoo removed? Isn't he happy that you don't want to be associated with them anymore?" Ina thought about it for a second. "Well no because one: he wants to make life hard for me and show me that I'm nothing without him and two: he wants me to come back to him."

She hurried under the roof of her next target, the last tattoo studio on the Eastside. "I'll hang up now, please hope with me that they're willing to help me.", Ina exhaled deeply and said goodbye to her friend before entering the studio.

Under other conditions she never would've come here. It was her last choice since this studio didn't have the best reputation and now that Ina saw it herself she must say all the rumors were true. It was sticky and looked dirty, no other customer was in here. But she was desperate.

"Hello?", she asked nervously. "Is it open here?"

"Oh sure it is.", a deep voice answered and soon after a middle aged man walked out of the other room. "How can I help you?" Ina thought this wasn't a bad start, maybe she could get him to remove it for her. But before she could even open her mouth to speak, his facial expression changed. "Get out." He must have recognized her now. "No please wait I really need your help.", she pleaded, but he didn't care at all.

"Get out of my studio before I get in big trouble because of you.", he hissed and pushed her out. "Fuck!", Ina shouted, kicking into the door before walking through the rain again. "What else am I supposed to do?", she asked towards the sky and shrugged. No one on the Eastside was willing to help her.

"No one on the Eastside..", Ina thought again and stopped walking. A new idea planted itself into her head, a risky idea she admitted. She had no other choice, she thought, as she made her way to the Westside.

[writtenonreceipts]

A Throne of Glass Fanfiction. Rowaelin.

8k words later and everything hurts.  I just kept writing and writing because I couldn’t make up my mind on what I wanted to happen or how to end it so here we are...part four? i seriously don’t know if i can or should fix it at this point, hahaha...ha. ha?

Warnings: angst. it hurts.

Based on a prompt I received here and you can find part two is here

PART 3

#

December 18th

“How are you today, Aelin?”

The was, without a doubt, her least favorite question.

Picking at her nails, Aelin shook her head.  There was so much to say and most of it wasn’t significant.  Did she talk about how she hasn’t had a decent night's sleep in over a month?  Or how she couldn’t concentrate at work for more than ten minutes?  Or maybe she could talk about the fact that her best friend and cousin were getting married and she was asked to play the piano as Lysandra walked down the aisle.

“I’m fine,” she said as she looked up.

Across the room Yrene didn’t look convinced.  Her curly brown hair framed her lovely features and accented the golden-brown light of her eyes.  She was a beautiful woman and Aelin had to wonder why she didn’t have a ring on her finger.  She was obviously successful, kind, attractive, and when Aelin wasn’t being stubborn—easy to talk to.

“If you’re going to lie to me, you may as well leave now,” Yrene said.  She leaned back in her seat and clicked her pen as she watched Aelin.

Sighing, Aelin ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t know how I am.”

“You don’t want to be here, we can start with that,” Yrene suggested.  She smiled knowingly and Aelin rolled her eyes.

“I don’t want to be here because I know it’s a waste of time,” Aeline said.

“But you came anyways.  Why?” 

“It’s what everyone expects of me,” Aelin said with a shrug. “So, I may as well get it over with.”

“So, you don’t think anything is wrong?” Yrene pressed. “There’s nothing keeping you up at night?  Your tapping foot is just a random occurrence?”

Aelin’s foot stopped.  She pursed her lips and glared at Yrene who smiled serenly.

“When we are in uncomfortable situations we have tells, unconscious ticks,” Yrene explained.  “I’m not trying to intimidate you; I hope you know you can be honest with me.”

Intimidate.  Yrene was not intimidating.  Not really.  Aelin just didn’t want to spill her problems out like this.  Not now.

“Why, despite everything, did you come today?” Yrene asked.

There’s no point lying.  Not when Yrene can point it out so easily.  Not when she doesn’t get much satisfaction out of it anyways.

“If I didn’t come, I would have had to go into a work meeting,” Aelin said, “and Sam would have been there.  And after that stupid party—I just can’t be around him right now.”

“Why do you think that is?” Yrene prods. “Are you embarrassed by what he may have seen with you and your friends?  That was the first time he really met any of them, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I mean, we only got together a few months ago after I left,” Aelin replied, her foot began tapping again and she adjusted the bracelets on her wrist. “But why should I be embarrassed by him?  He treats me well; he cares about me.  But it was my first time seeing everyone in so long and I didn’t think he would have come.”

“You didn’t want him to meet everyone.”  Yrene’s words were innocent as they tried to make sense of Aelin’s rambling.  For which Aelin was grateful, at least one of them knew what was going on.  And yet...and yet they sent a chill through Aelin’s body.

“I didn’t want him to meet everyone,” Aelin agreed.  She met Yrene’s eyes. “Because as soon as he did everyone would try and assume that I was fine.  And dammit, fine is the farthest from what I am feeling.”

#

When she started therapy, Aelin had been back in Terrasen for all of twenty-four hours.  November twentieth was her first session with a woman who had a private practice and a website that declared her specialties lied in healing from trauma and working through anxiety and depression.  It was a simple profile.  One that Aelin wasn’t sure why she went for it, but in a spurt of desperation she’d made an appointment.

Almost a month later and at times, bi-weekly appointments, Aelin didn’t know if she were any better off than when she first stepped off the plane from Paris.

Sitting in her office near the end of the workday, Aelin scrolled through social media on her phone.  She really had to stop doing so, but staring at a computer screen full of fashion sketches or marketing reports was not appealing.  She unfortunately stumbled across a post Fenrys made not twenty minutes ago.

It was a simple picture of him, Lorcan, Conall, and Rowan.  Each dressed in a suit and tie.  Each handsome in his own right.  Of course, Aelin’s eyes lingered on Rowan.  Of course, she couldn’t help but imagine what he had done with himself over the past year.  Of course, she knew it was stupid of her to do so.

Landed an epic deal in Wendlyn! Got the best team around.

Aelin was surprised to see Fenrys had managed not to cure on the page, even if it was a work-related post.  Just as she was surprised that he had kept his innocuous verbage kept simple using only one “epic” and not a single “dude” or “rad.”  

The knock on Aelin’s door had her looking up and she found Sam staring in at her.  He had a handsome smile and his bright eyes watched her with interest.

“Hey,” he said, “you almost done here?”

Aelin glanced at her screen where numbers and approvals still needed to be inputted.  She was a terrible person.  How the hell had she been selected to go to Italy, let alone Paris, for those work assignments?

“Chock it up to the Monday brain, but I’m going to need to make it a late day,” she said regretfully.

Sam frowned and Aelin knew he could see right through her.  At least mostly.  He might not have seen everything going on in her mind, but he knew her enough to take an educated guess.

“Let me order take out and I can stay and help you,” he offered.

An unexplainable stab of emotion filled Aelin as she looked up at him.  He was too good to her.  Too good for her.

“I thought you had plans,” she said after she was able to school herself.

Sam smiled sheepishly.  “Just with your cousin and Dorian.  They invited me out for drinks.”

I didn’t want for him to meet everyone.

Just as soon as she’d swallowed down her emotions, the panic began to rise again.  Hell.

“Go.” She said.  The response surprised her.  It was the absolute last thing she wanted to say but the simple word slipped her lips before she could stop it.  “Go.  I’ll be fine.  It’s not much anyways.”

“You’re sure?” 

“Absolutely,” she lied.  

And because Sam was too good, he couldn’t hear it.  He couldn’t see the subtle shake of her foot or the way she adjusted the bracelets on her wrist.

Instead he crossed her office and leaned over the desk to kiss her.  Slow and languid.  He pulled back much too soon.

“I’ll call you later, yeah?” he said with a heart wrenching smile on his face.

“Yeah,” she replied and watched him go.  

It wasn’t long before five o’clock rolled around and he stopped by again to make sure she was fine working late by herself.  After she convinced him to leave, she waited.  She waited until the last of the interns and admins left before she pulled out her phone and made a call.

They picked up on the second ring.

“I’m going to send you an address,” Aelin said, “can you bring a few things and meet me there in an hour?”

#

“I thought I was mortal enemy number one on your hit list.”

Chaol Westfold.  Tall, muscular, handsome, and an ass.  

“Did you bring the cake?” Aelin asked.

He hefted a plastic bag up. “And the beer.”

“Then congratulations,” Aelin replied, “you are now welcomed back into the fold of friendship.”

Chaol looked as though that were the last thing he wanted, but he entered her office and shut the door behind.  He muttered under his breath about this not ever happening again as he unloaded the cake and beer.

Aelin immediately went for the cake.  Chocolate hazelnut with a creamy frosting.  It was the first thing she ate after getting back from Paris.  It had to be the best creation in the world.  She grabbed a plastic fork from one of the drawers in her desk and immediately dug in.

“Are we going to talk or am I just your cake supplier now?” Chaol asked.

Reluctantly, Aelin dug another fork out of her desk and tossed it to him.  He accepted, but he didn’t eat.

Aelin licked a blob or frosting from her fork. “Do you know why we broke up?”

“We lied to each other about everything,” Chaol answered.  Slowly, he scrapped a bit of frosting on his fork.  He contemplated his next words before continuing. “And we never talked about it either.”

“Right,” Aelin said, nodding. “Do you ever regret breaking up?”

That was the question that drove Chaol to a real bite of the cake and Aelin had to smother a laugh watching the sight.  Chaol never ate cake or chocolate or anything that wasn’t specifically for keeping in excellent shape.  So the sight of him actually enjoying eating the cake was the funniest thing she had ever seen.

“Of course I do,” Chaol said.  “At least, I regret how we broke up.  You’re the first woman I ever loved, Aelin.  The first one who really...I don’t know taught me how to live.”

She shook her head. “Nah.  I dragged you around into trouble.”

They sat in silence as they ate the cake.  Aelin ate far more than her share.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Chaol asked.  “Or tell me how the hell you still have my number?”

She grinned viciously.  “I had to keep you in my contacts in case I needed someone to frame for murder.  And you were just the asshat to fit the bill.  Until you brought me cake.”

He rolled his eyes at her and cracked open a beer. “Why am I not surprised?”

Cackling, Aelin stuffed her face with more cake.  She knew that she couldn’t ignore his original question for long.  There was a reason she had called him and only him.  Maybe this was something she should have talked to Lysandra about.  Or even Yrene.  But there was something about her friendship with Chaol that no one else could fill.

“Rowan cheated on me,” Aelin finally said.  Chaol nearly choked on his beer.  She grabbed a few spare napkins to toss at him before continuing. “That’s why I went to Europe.  I had to get away.

Chaol sat quietly as she continued. She told him everything about the fight she had with Rowan, returning to his apartment, hearing what he did.  She told him about leaving.  About Sam.  About the party.

“He said he still loves me,” Aelin finished. “But if he does, if he ever did then why did he do what he did?”

It was a lot to put on Chaol.  He’d never cheated on her.  But he’d lied about various things.  She’d lied too of course, but they’d been fresh out of high school trying to live their lives.  She’d certainly loved him enough to have sex with him for her first time.  

And then they’d drifted further and further apart.  To the point that Aelin never knew who she was when she was with him.  It was unfortunate really because his friendship had helped her through the hellish years of high school and on into that first year of college.  And then it was gone.

“Have you talked to him?” Chaol asked. It was an innocent enough question, but Aelin could see the rise of his brow and knowing glint in his eyes.

Aelin sighed dramatically. "You should meet my therapist. All the two of you want me to do is talk."

"Aelin," Chaol said, his voice growing just a tick more serious.

"What is there to talk to him about?" Aelin stabbed at the cake, suddenly feeling ill which was far too disconcerting. "I know how I feel on the matter. So does he."

Chaol grunted unconvinced. "I doubt that."

She stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed the second beer he brought and settled in to mock him endlessly.

#

December 19th

"It's seven in the morning." Yrene frowned as Aelin pushed herself into the office.

"And yet you're already here," Aelin said.

She hadn't slept the night before. Not really even after talking to Sam who's had a riotous night with Aedion and Dorian. And all she could about was her conversation with Chaol. 

"To get ready for the rest of my appointments," Yrene said slowly, still watching Aelin with obvious confusion.

Settling down on the couch, Aelin looked up at Yrene. "Why do I still love him?"

Yrene pursed her lips and shut the office door before crossing to her own chair. She said nothing and simply waited for Aelin to continue.

"I mean, he hurt me, betrayed what I thought we had together, what we could have had together...and all he can say is I don't know what happened. Am I that replaceable to him?"

Yrene continued looking at her, quiet. But she had opened up her notebook and began taking notes on what Aelin was saying.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Aelin added, “and I have not talked to him yet.  I don’t think I can.”

Silence stretched through the room and Yrene clicked her pen as she stared at Aelin.  The latter woman staunchly avoided looking up from her nails.  It wasn’t until Aelin’s phone buzzed with an incoming text that she sighed heavily.

“Where do you feel safe, Aelin?” Yrene asked suddenly.  She leaned forward in her chair and fixed Aelin with a long look. “Where do you feel like you are in control and confident?”

Aelin made a face and shrugged. She’d never really thought about that before. “Serious answer?  There’s this dumpy little apartment that the company rents out for storage.  I go there when I need to get away.  Or the coffee shop down on Fifth.  A friend I met in Paris has family that owns it.”

“Okay,” Yrene said with a slow nod. “If, and only if, you feel comfortable I think you need to talk to Rowan.  You deserve closure on what happened.”

“You really don’t like me, do you?” Aelin asked.

Yrene smiled. “I really think you deserve more than what you are allowing yourself to have.”

Glancing at her phone Aelin sighed. “I need to get to work.  Let me know how much I owe you for this.”

Yrene assured her that she would and Aelin slipped out of the office.  

By the time she made it outside, a light snow began to fall.  The thick white flakes assaulted her and clung to her hair and coat.  Aelin muttered a curse.  She really did not miss the snow.  Nothing about it.  Not the cold, the ice, the distinct scent of pine that always seemed to come when the chill did.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Aelin hurried down the walk towards her work building.  Thankfully Yrene’s office was close to her own so Aelin was usually never late for work or gone long when she had her appointments during lunch.

She texted Sam and he met her in the lobby of their work building, coffee in hand.

“Hey babe,” he greeted with a kiss to her cheek.

Aelin smiled warmly and accepted her coffee, grateful to the immediate warmth that spread through her fingers.

“Thanks,” she said.  She leaned into his side as they made their way to the elevators. “You have fun with the guys last night?”

“They’re great,” Sam agreed.  When he glanced down at her a strange expression flashed on his face.

“What?” Aelin asked. “Dorian didn’t shove you into a rose bush, did he?”

Frowning, Sam shook his head. “No?”

“Never mind,” Aelin said quickly.  “He just does that sometimes.”

Sam still looked utterly confused and it was such an endearing look that Aelin rose on her toes to press a quick kiss to his jaw.

“They just mentioned something,” Sam began slowly, “it’s just, ah, they mentioned Rowan.”

Aelin nearly choked on her coffee.  Sputtering, she covered her mouth. “Rowan?  Why the hell would they?”

“It’s nothing,” Sam said quickly, “he was at the bar and they—I don’t even know what it was about.  It’s not a big deal.”

Aelin didn’t have a chance to say anything as the elevator opened on their floor and a group of interns was already waiting for Sam to sign off on orders and marketing issues.

“I’ll see you at lunch,” Sam called over his shoulder as he hurried off towards his office.

Aelin could only wave weakly as he disappeared.  Sometimes she wished she’d thought through starting a relationship with him a little better.  But after everything that happened with Rowan...Sam had been something new.  And she’d believed that something knew was just what she needed.

It didn’t help that sometimes Aelin could still feel Rowan’s hands on her, his lips ghosting hers.  She could still feel the rumble of his laugh when they spent late nights together and woke up early.  

Her stomach churned with acid.  The coffee was not sitting well in her empty belly.  At least she still had chocolate cake hidden in her office from her chat with Chaol.

But Aelin certainly didn’t want to feel this way.  Not anymore, not when she had been trying so hard to move on with her life.

So as soon as she got into her office, she pulled out her phone and sent a text.

#

Rowan without a doubt hated himself.

He had for a long time and without a doubt fully deserved it. So when he got a text from Aelin he promptly threw up in the nearest trash can of the office break room.

Fenrys laughed at him, absolutely pleased with how the morning was going.  Over the passed year they’d been working together, diving into a business management system to help companies and the likes from going bankrupt.  The only reason it was going so well was because Rowan did nothing else but work.  

"Dude, did you get wasted on a weekday again?" 

Rowan flipped him off and grabbed a cup to fill with water. He took a long drink before he glares at his friend.

"Aelin texted me," he said, "she wants to meet for coffee later. To talk."

"And your first response was to vomit?" Fenrys asked, brow quirked.

"Yes," Rowan affirmed.

"If you're looking for sympathy, you're not finding it from me," Fenrys said. He pulled a soda from the fridge and cracked it open, "I'm a sucker for Aelin and would choose her over you any day."

Rowan scowled. "Thanks man,"

"Anytime," Fenrys said. He ripped an invisible hat as he left the break room.

Rowan scrubbed a hand over his face. He knew that Fenrys was right. It was a miracle he'd even managed to hold onto any of his friends.  For some reason, they’d all stayed with him.  For the most part.  Elide and Lysandra were the exceptions.  Neither of them, no matter the situation, even bothered to look at him.

One year.

He didn’t blame them.

So now Rowan had the chance to meet with Aelin and, hopefully, talk to her.  If she yelled that was fine.  If she threw things at him that was fine too.  As long as he got the chance to be around her at least once more.

Oh hell he actually had to talk to her didn’t he?

It was going to be an impossibly long day full of Rowan hating himself and coming to terms with the fat that Aelin was going to kill him.  

And despite the fact that he’d had a year to prepare for this, Rowan couldn’t have been further from being ready.  In all honesty all the scenarios he’d come up with in the last year had not prepared him for this in the slightest.

By the time five o’clock rolled around, Rowan barely got anything done throughout the day.  Every time he would start on something his mind would begin to wander and he’d find himself on Aelin’s social media pages.  Which consequently would make things worse. 

Photo after photo were of her and Sam.  Italy, Paris, white beaches, and blue waters.  She was a goddess in each and every picture.  And the smile in each picture, Rowan had to remind himself, weren’t meant for him but for another man.  A man who knew how not to screw up the greatest thing in his life.

As he left his office, Rowan took care to avoid running into Fenrys, Lorcan, or any of the others.  He knew full well that Fenrys wouldn’t have kept his mouth shut and Rowan wasn’t in the mood for dealing with anyone else telling him he was an idiot.  Even Lorcan had avoided talking to him for several months after the incident.  Lorcan whose least favorite person was Aelin.

Granted Lorcan was a better man than he was on so many levels.

Brown shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he headed down the street towards the coffee shop Aelin had indicated.  It was a small place Rowan had passed by several times but had never bothered to go in.  The shop was small and had such a niche ambiance that Rowan never felt like he could go in.

Now as he entered the small space with its rich scents of chai and chocolate, Rowan’s concerns were confirmed.

A woman with chin length black hair and warm, bronze skin greeted him from behind the counter.  As Rowan glanced over the menu, he shouldn’t have been surprised that Aelin chose this place.  Half the menu was devoted to pastries.

“He wants a black coffee, Nesryn,” a soft voice said from behind him.  

Rowan winced and turned to where Aelin sat at a small table tucked into a corner.  She already had a large slice of cake in front of her.

Nesryn fixed Rowan with a glare and nodded while muttering under her breath in French.  He had no doubts that she knew exactly who he was.  Death was most certainly in his future.

Rowan waited until his coffee was finished and paid for--a generous tip added to the jar on the counter—before he joined Aelin.  

He didn’t know what to do other than pull the other chair out from the table and take a seat across from her.  They sat in silence like that for a long time.  Aelin slowly ate her slice of cake and sipped on her own drink.  Rowan was startled to see that it was a cup of tea instead of her standard double shot of espresso with hemp milk and cinnamon.

“You wanted to talk before,” Aelin said slowly.  It had barely been three days since that party and she couldn’t believe that she had actually let herself meet with him so soon after being staunchly against it.  She kind of hated herself for it, but she would deal with that later. “So let’s talk.”

She still didn’t look him directly in the eye.  Rowan could see creases in her makeup lining on her eyelids.  Her lipstick had long since worn off and he could tell she’d been chewing on her lips like always.  A habit that even a year hadn’t taken away.  She was still beautiful of course.

“I’m sorry, Rowan said immediately.  

Aelin flinched at his words and dragged her teeth over her fork as she scraped as much frosting off the tines as possible.

“And,” Rowan continued, “I can’t...I’ve never forgiven myself for what I put you through.”

Soft classical music played overhead.  It reminded Rowan so much of what Aelin liked playing--the gentle folds of notes blending together until they reached a crescendo of sound, of feeling.  And then slowly fading bad into those gentle folds.  

It wasn’t until a new track started that Rowan continued.  There was so much he wanted to say to her, but given with what he did he wasn’t entirely sure what good any of his words would do.  Perhaps they would at least help him move on.  Maybe.

“I never wanted any of this to happen.  I never wanted to hurt you.” Rowan stared at his coffee.  His words sounded hollow to his own ears and he couldn’t imagine how Aelin was handling his ramblings. “It just seemed for the longest time we were never on the same page.  Nothing was changing and we...we were barely treading water together.”

Aelin pushed the plate of cake away and crossed her arms over her chest.  Rowan could feel her eyes digging into him but he was too much a coward to look up and meet that gaze.

“So you left,” Aelin said.  “Instead of waiting and trying to make our relationship work, you ran.”

“I’ve regretted it every day,” Rowan whispered.

Music continued to play overhead and a few people trickled in to order drinks or dessert.  No one lingered long however, despite the empty tables, the warmth as compared to the outside.  In and out.  In and out, the customers drifted.

Aelin’s phone buzzed on the table.  She glanced at the message and sighed.  Barely sparing him a look, she stood grabbing her coat and pulled it on.

“I need to go,” she murmured.  

Finally, Rowan glanced up at her.  Her eyes were rimmed red, yet she hadn’t shed any tears.  Instead the sorrow on her face turned fierce.

“Aelin,” Rowan began, he started to rise, but Aelin held a hand up.

“My boyfriend needs me,” she said.  And then she spun on her heel and left the little shop.

Rowan stood next to that little table in the back corner of that shop and watched her go.  He watched through the front window until she crossed the street and disappeared around the corner.

He would never get over the idea of her walking away.

#

Sam was waiting for her in the kitchen of her apartment. He smiled brightly as he looked up from the stove. He was making something that smelled like spices, and warmth, and home.

"Alright, so this is something my mom used to make around Christmas," Sam said. He had a twinkle in his eyes and a dopey sort of grin on his face. "And I know you've had a long week."

Aelin can't help but smile gratefully. She hangs her coat up on the hook beside the door and drops her purse on the small side table there too.

"It smells wonderful," she said. Coming into the kitchen she took a seat at the counter so she could watch Sam as he chopped vegetables and slowly stirred the pot.  From what she could tell is was a stew of some sort.

"How was your day?" He asked. As if he didn't know. She'd told him that she was going to meet with Rowan, and while he might not have known what had transpired in that relationship, he'd known something. And especially after the conversation she’d had with Chaol, Aelin knew she had to open the doors of communication and honesty.

And it sucked.

“It’s better now,” she said.

He smiled softly and poured her a glass of wine.  It was different from what she usually drank but she was just grateful he was even here that he’d stayed.

When they first got together almost six months ago it had been something haphazard.  Slow but quick.  Random but natural.  And after everything with Rowan...Sam had helped her pull herself together. 

It had been something she’d never thought possible.  She’d thought that Rowan was her soulmate.  That he would always and forever be her person.  

As she sipped her drink, Aelin watched Sam work.  He talked endlessly about winter nights where he’d helped his mother with cooking dinner for the family.  The stew had been his favorite comfort food and thus figured it would be something she might enjoy.

And then he told horrible stories of other occasions where he’d burned dinner too.

Aelin cackled at the idea of him setting off the smoke alarm and having to wave a towel around like a madman.  

“I swear I was banned from the kitchen for a full month after that,” Sam laughed.  He set the table, simple settings of Aelin’s mismatched bowls and cutlery.  

“Well you can’t do anything worse than what I could do,” Aelin said.

Grinning, Sam pressed kiss to her forehead and took a seat next to her.

Through the meal, Aelin was able to press everything else about her day away.  She could forget Rowan.  She could forget the past year.  She could see herself changing.

Maybe it was that notion that caused her to lose her appetite.

“So, what prompted you to make me dinner,” she asked, pushing her half-eaten bowl away.  “Your text sounded off.”

Sam shrugged halfheartedly.  He’d removed his tie long ago and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone.  He looked so relaxed and at ease that the slight pang of panic Aelin had felt just moments ago returned full force.

“I’ve just been thinking about you,” he said honestly.  He smiled again in that same delightfully silly way that he had.

Aelin knew that wasn’t all that was on his mind.  She rolled her eyes and kicked him beneath the table. “And?”

He opened and closed his mouth before taking a large bite of stew to get out of answering.

Aelin stuck her tongue out at him and rose to get a start of dishes.

“Nope,” Sam said, he snatched a hand out and grabbed her wrist.  He swallowed his bite of food and shook his head. “You have no responsibilities tonight.”

“Oh?” Aelin arched a brow.  “None at all?”

Sam shook his head.

“Then why the hell am I not in my pajamas yet?”

Aelin ran her fingers through his hair and hurried off to her room, more than ready to be out of her work clothes.  And, in all honesty, needing to get away for a breath.

There was something about the way that Sam looked at her just now.  Something about how he’d been acting recently.  It wasn’t anything bad, but it was enough to make Aelin’s breath catch, her pulse race.  There was something about him.  The man.  

She’d never really noticed it before.  Not in all the time that she’d been dating Rowan.  But when she and Sam had been in in Paris working on the extended project together.  She’d seen in then.  There was compassion and honor written all along the threads that made Sam who he was.  And now...now those threads were becoming more and more noticeable.

By the time Aelin had changed, Sam was already started on the dishes.  He topped her wine off and allowed her to help him dry what wouldn’t fit in the dishwasher.

“Aelin,” Sam said after they’d started the dishwasher and left the last few items out to dry.

“Hm?” Aelin hummed taking a long sip of wine.

Sam stepped closer, placing his hands on her waist.  He was trim, lean, and obviously in good shape, but not bulky or broad like other men.  It didn’t deter Aelin’s attraction to him though.

She leaned into him, willing herself to play on those subtle emotions building in her body.

Sam pressed a kiss to each corner of her mouth before hovering just before her--waiting to give her a longer more meaningful kiss.

He’d been patient with her the last six months. Never pressuring her into sex or anything more intimate than she was ready for.  And Aelin would be forever grateful to him for it.  But she also couldn’t help but wonder how long that patience would last.

As Rowan had shown, men had their limits.

Aelin squeezed her eyes shut.  She would not focus on him.  Not now.  So she closed the distance between her and Sam and kissed him.  It was somewhat sloppy as he’d not been expecting her to move so suddenly, but Sam was quick to recover.

She could most certainly get used to him.  Every little thing about him.

“I love you,” Sam said.  So carefully his lips moved against hers as they sounded out the words.

I love you. 

I love you.

Aelin’s hands froze at the lower buttons of his shirt.  She’d gotten a little out of hand, not that she was too sorry.  But his words just reminded her what was really happening.

She opened her eyes and stared into his golden gaze.  Her throat constricted as she found herself pulling him closer, closer.

“You love me?” she whispered.

Sam nodded once, firm and definite.

Aelin felt her breath slip out too quickly from her lungs as she kissed Sam again.

December 20th

It was ten o’clock the next evening when Aelin was knocking at the door. Someone swore behind it and Yrene answered. She was still dressing for the day, still wearing makeup. Still holding her case notes in one hand.

"I'm going have to start charging you extra if you keep showing up like this," the woman said. But she let Aelin into the office all the same.

"Fine by me," Aelin replied. 

The office was dimly lit by a single lamp and a pile of take out containers from an Indian restaurant took over the table.

"So do you live here or what?" Aelin asked. She turned a lifted a brow at Yrene.

Snorting, Yrene ignored Aelin and crossed to the chair she usually took over and sat down.

"What are we talking about tonight, Aelin?" Yrene asked.

Why was she here? Aelin had no idea. She just knew she didn't want to go home. If she went home, she knew Sam would be there because he was too good for her. He was planning on a late night of hot chocolate and cheesy Christmas movies. And Aelin should want to be there. But she was the idiot who went out for coffee with her ass of an ex. An even bigger ass than Chaol had been.

"I talked to him," Aelin said. "At least I listened to him."

"And? Do you feel better?"

"No." Aelin answered immediately.  “Because my current boyfriend who is the best man I could ask for after the hellhole that is Rowan Whitethorn.  My current boyfriend told me he loves me.  And what do I do but give him a kiss and tell him thanks.  He barely left my place half an hour ago before I came here.”

Yrene gave her a bland look. “Don’t you have friends for this?  This is girl talk Aelin.”

Aelin cursed and pushed herself off the couch.  She stood there for several long moments. “Why can’t I love him?  I want to.  Dammit, I want to.  But, I just…”

“What?” Yrene prompted softly when Aelin didn’t continue.  “But what, Aelin?”

“But what if it happens again?” Aelin asked.  She looked at Yrene and shook her head. “I thought I could trust Rowan and then he cheated on me.  I think I can trust Sam.  But I just can’t go through it all again.”

Neither of them spoke as Yrene makes a note in her little booklet.  She lets Aelin stand there breathing heavily and collect her thoughts.

But Aelin isn’t thinking much aside from being angry.  Angry at Rowan especially.

“He had no right to tell me he still loves me,” Aelin said suddenly.  “If he’d really wanted to talk why would he do that to me?  Why would he put me in that position?”

“Would you have listened any other way?” Yrene asked.  Aelin shot her an angry look and Yrene held up a finger. “All I’m saying is that he might not even know how to deal with it all either.  Have either of you moved on?”

“I’m trying,” Aelin whispered.

“And I am so proud of you for that,” Yrene said with so much conviction that Aelin felt tears prick her eyes. “But I also want you to consider what else might be holding you back.  You talked to Rowan; you made that step.  What else can you do?  Do you think you could—”

Yrene cut herself off and frowned.  Aelin watched her have an internal battle.  

Finally, Yrene shook her head. “Do you think you could forgive him?”

Aelin cursed and stalked to the office door, closing it with a loud snap.

#

December 23rd

Rowan decided that he hated the holidays.

And he did not have to explain himself for it.

Besides, everyone basically already knew why he did.  And that it was his own fault for being in such a miserable state of existence.

Because of course he’d tried.  He’d tried to reach out to Aelin in the past year, just for some sort of reconciliation.  He’d never gotten anything in response.  Connall told him to try therapy.  Lorcan told him to try drinking himself to oblivion.  Fenrys had ignored him for the better part of the year.

And now they were in the holidays and Rowan had to at least try and not be a “broody old buzzard.”

As Aelin would have said.

He was a fool.  An utter waste of a fool.

“Remind me again why you’re having another holiday party?” Rowan asked Dorian that night.

Unlike the last party, this one was far more casual with far more alcohol and far less dress code.

“Because this one will actually be fun,” Dorian told him lightly.  

The man still didn’t like Rowan, of course, but he had been gracious enough to allow Rowan to join his other friends to the invite.

“Especially when Aelin gets here and skins you alive,” Doran added.  With a feral grin that he’d likely learned from Manon Blackbeak, Dorian slapped Rowan on the back with far too much force and left him alone.

He needed a whisky.

As Rowan went to get a drink, he heard more guests arrive.  He glanced up to see Elide Lochan give a squealing hug to Lysandra.

Elide, he knew, was a longtime friend of Manon’s as well as a somewhat potential girlfriend of sorts to Lorcan.  Rowan wasn’t sure and didn’t really want to ask knowing Lorcan would likely punch him.  Elide was also a friend of Aelin’s so he would also be avoiding her.

“Oh look, it’s the ass,” Elide said as she calmly slipped past Rowan to grab a beer for her and her friend.

“Lochan,” he said looking down at her.

She fixed him with a sharp smile that was mostly teeth and derision.  Lorcan better pray he never get on the woman’s bad side.

The night was progressing far too slowly for Rowan’s tastes and he debated to simply walk out.  No one really wanted him there anyways.  He had to squash that plan when Aelin entered, her new boyfriend at her side.

As always, Aelin looked phenomenal.  

Her hair was straightened and pulled into a low ponytail so it hung down her back.  Her makeup was simple with only bright red lipstick as the biggest accent.  If Rowan hadn’t already been screwed over by the sight, the tight black dress she wore did the trick.

Hell she was glorious.

But he shouldn’t look at her like that.  He had no right to.  Not anymore.

Rowan knocked back his whiskey and refilled his drink.  What was he even doing here?

Aelin was laughing too loudly at something Manon said.  The two it seemed had the potential of becoming friends which in and of itself should terrify everyone.

He knew he must have been staring too long and too intently because Aelin chose that moment to look at him.  The light that burned in her eyes snuffed out almost immediately and Rowan felt his heart squeeze in his chest.

He was a damned fool.

#

Like everything else in her life, tonight wanted to screw her over.

Aelin found Rowan staring at her.  Blatantly.  A slight haze of panic wrapped around her, until her felt Sam’s hand cup her elbow and pull her into his side.  For that she was grateful.  Grateful for that small ounce of support.  Even though she couldn’t quite focus on anything, she could focus on Sam and the fact that he was there.

“Oh, we’re so excited,” Lysandra said, pulling Aelin from her tunnel vision of self-doubt. “It’s a miracle there was even an opening at the venue, but it’s going to be perfect.”

“That vineyard is so beautiful,” Elide agreed.  She wore her hair long with her straight-line bangs finally growing out to the point that she could part her hair properly and style her hair the way she wanted to.  Aelin had tried to convince Elide that getting bangs was not a good idea.  But Elide had been drunk and on a mission.

“You’re going to make me play the piano outside?” Aelin complained. At least she could somehow contribute to the conversation even though she was lightyears away from the party.

“Oh you’ll be fine,” Lysandra insisted.  She sent a wink Aelin’s direction as if to prove the worries were unfounded.

Aelin rolled her eyes.

This was normal.  She could do normal.  She could do easy and relaxed.  All of her friends were here.  All of the people she knew and loved.  With of course the one exception.

“I just can’t believe you guys were able to squeeze your way onto the top of the list,” Manon said.  She not so subtly thrust a drink into Aelin’s hand.  Something that would most definitely get her drunk, no doubt.

There was the briefest of pauses where Lysandra and Aedion exchanged a look that was so quick and practiced that Aelin first thought how wonderful it was that they knew each other so well to communicate the way that they did and then a terrible sense of foreboding.

It was seconds.  Seconds spanning years.

“Rowan helped,” Lysandra finally admitted.  The guilt on her face was evident.

Aelin immediately took a sip of the drink Manon had made her.  Oh yes, it was certainly going to make her forget about the night.

“He knows someone who knows someone,” Lysandra added.  She glanced over her shoulder to where Rowan was still hiding near the kitchen.

His feature’s in their perpetual scowled lightened only for an instant. “My friend, Ren owed me a favor.”

“Ren?” Aelin couldn’t help but burst out.  Ren was the last person she would have expected Rowan to interact with.  Even though she was part of the reason the two even knew each other. “He hates you.”

“I became one of his managers in his company,” Rowan said softly.  He met Aelin’s eyes. “Helped him from going bankrupt.”

Her mouth went dry and she had to fight against her automatic instinct to drown the rest of the hellish drink in her hand.  Instead she nodded once.  Stiffly.

Well here’s to doing something right, she wanted to say.  She wanted to scream.  She wanted to do anything but stand there and tell Lysandra and Aedion how excited she was.

But what else was there?  She would not make a scene.  Not so close to the holiday.  Not when somehow everyone had moved on with their lives.

And then as a saving grace, her phone buzzed with an incoming call.

Deliberately, she leaned up to kiss Sam on the cheek before excusing herself.

By the time she made it to the hall outside the apartment, she’d missed the call entirely.  Aelin scowled to herself and headed downstairs.  As long as she had escaped, she would make the most of it.  

Outside, the wind had settled.  At least she had a coat this time.  Her coat with the long sleeves and deep pockets.  

The missed call was from Yrene which made Aelin roll her eyes.  Now who was bothering who?  But she called back all the same.

“Hello Aelin,” Yrene’s calm voice came on.

“Are you upset that I made it one day without bothering you?” Aelin asked with a low chuckle.  

She walked a few steps down the block, careful to avoid chunks of ice from a brief dusting snow last night combined with the sudden chill of last week.

“I just like checking in on my people,” Yrene said.  The line went silent for a minute. “Are you okay?”

Aelin let out a long breath, glad Yrene couldn’t see her.  But it seemed that the therapist could read people well enough without actually seeing their face.

“I’m fine,” Aelin said.  She tilted her head up to the dark sky and watched as the first few flakes of snow began to descend.

Yrene made a disbelieving grunt on the other end, but remained silent.

“I am,” Aelin insisted.  “I’m surrounded by my people.”

“Alright,” Yrene said, “let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” Aelin promised.

As she hung up, she took a long breath and told herself it was fine for not going into everything with Yrene.  Because she was fine.  Really.

She turned to head back inside and came face to face with Rowan.  He remained a few feet off, just descending the steps from the apartment building.  At first, it seemed he didn’t even see her.  Until he turned.

They stood there, feet apart.  Worlds apart.  So far from where they had been.

“I was just leaving,” Rowan said.

Aelin stared.

“I didn’t even want to be there anyways,” Rowan continued.

Snow continued to fall.  The large flakes weren’t that imposing.  It would end quickly, at least that’s what Aelin had always heard.  A large snow would come and go, but the small one always lingered.

“Why would you even be there?” Aelin asked.  She shook her head, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “You don’t even like Dorian.  And Lys and Aedion will tie you to a spit and burn you alive.  Why—”

She cut herself off before saying something truly unnecessary.  Collecting her thoughts, Aelin breathed in the bone chilling air. 

“Don’t you realize how hard this is for me?  I’m done trying Rowan.”

He let out a hollow laugh. “Try?  Did you try Aelin?  Or are you just like me, running away.  It’s what you did back then too.”

“Don’t you dare put this on me,” she hissed.

Aelin drew herself up so close to him.  Close enough to smell his cologne.  It hadn’t changed in all this time.  Close enough to see the dark flecks of his green eyes.  They were just as bold as before.  Close enough to remember.  

Tears sprung to her eyes as she stumbled back.  Too close.  Too close.

Rowan cursed and ran both hands through his hair.  The longer bits fell into his face, cutting across his features.

She wanted to tell him good-bye.  Wanted to say that this was it.  She was done.  Because she was, wasn’t she?

“I’m sorry,” he said.  So soft that the words were almost swept away on the snowflakes curling past. “I didn’t mean that.  I just...Dammit Aelin, I don’t know how to do this.  I don’t know how to erase myself from your life.  From my life.  When even after all this time it’s always been you.  It’s only been you.”

The snow fell around them.  The thick tufts turned into tiny specks.  There was so much that Aelin almost lost sight of Rowan, even though she stood mere feet from her.

Bastard.  Bastard for doing this to her again.  

Because all she could see was that woman, Lyria, leaving the apartment building.  A smug, secret sort of smile on her face.  And the woman couldn’t have been more different from Aelin.  Dark hair, tanned skin.  Small and petite.  And all Aelin could see was Rowan’s hands roving another woman.  His lips…

Aelin shuddered.

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life regretting what happened,” Rowan continued.  He was the one coming closer now.  He reached out to catch her when she turned away, his grip soft enough that she could have left if she’d tried.  “I’ll spend the rest of my life hating me for what I did to you.  To us.”

His words were too soft, too gentle.  Aelin found herself staring up at him with the tears in her eyes that she would not let fall.

She would not break.  Not now.  Here she was falling into the sense of love and life he always provided.  Hell.  What couldn’t she just let him go?

Aelin pressed a hand against Rowan’s chest.  The sweater he wore was thick but she could still feel the steady thrum of his heart beating an uneven rhythm.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life hating you for that too,” she said.

And then she pulled away.

#

Seriously though, idk what happened here. Oh boy, ooooohhhh boy.  thanks for reading my dears.  love y’all!

AND I promise that I do have stuff in the mix that’s not so angst ridden.

tags, if i missed/you don’t want to be tagged-- let me know, I’m trying and failing at getting my life in order.

@ladywitchling  @tottenhamboys20 @morganofthewildfire  @aelinchocolatelover @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx  @bamchickawowow​ @sjmships  @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

[sparklingchan]

Sun and Stars | Johnny Suh (NCT 127)

Pairing : Reader (fem.) X Johnny

Word count : 10k+

Warnings: A few cuss words here and there , gets a little suggestive towards the end. Not proof read sorry 

Genre : Fluff,angst,romance , friends to lovers au ,college au.

Description: Johnny has no idea that you are head over heels for him - you intend to keep it that way.

A/N: I’ve been working on this fic for around a week now and I am sooo happy to finally be able to publish it (Johnny in a college au  makes me feel a type of way ngl) This is the first time I’ve ever written a fic with more than 3k words so I’m not sure how its turned out so anyone who reads the entire thing,know that i am so,so grateful to you .

Also shoutout to my best friend @chogiwow​ for helping me out with writing and desrcibing and everything else. LY <3

Enjoy!

Johnny Suh has a habit of biting his nails when he is nervous, you have noticed , his eyes focused on whatever is directly in front of him and his leg fidgeting up and down continuously.

You have seen him look nervous on many occasions before - like the day of exams, sneaking alcohol to on campus events , group discussions with professors - but nothing will ever top the way he looks right now ; like he's standing on the edge of a bridge, ready to bungee jump.

"I told Professor Yun to give us at least a month and a half to organize everything properly but that man just plain refuses to listen to me because I bunked his class once !" Mark Lee has a big mouth ,that's public knowledge, but when he continues to pace inside the empty auditorium, you find yourself getting irritated at his non- stop comments .

"Has anyone else tried to talk to Yun about the extension of the date ? Someone who doesn't bunk his classes? " Lia asks, her arms crossed in front of her chest. You have seen your roommate look serious before but right now she looks almost as if she's about to go on a killing spree.

"Didn't y/n go to him yesterday? I remember seeing her near the staff room with him. " Johnny points out and suddenly all eyes are on you.

Your cheeks flush at the mention of your name from his mouth. //

The tense atmosphere in the auditorium was already making you uncomfortable enough but now , with the unwanted spotlight on you , you feel as if your body has been squeezed into a car's trunk.

"Umm.." you stutter,playing with hem of your oversized Linkin Park t-shirt, "yes. I did talk to him but he said no to me too. He didn't even let me explain our situation."

Mark groans loudly, his head between his hands. "We are so doomed. The authorities are going to remove me from the position of the president of the student body! I can feel it coming."

"I don't know about anyone else but I enjoy my position as the vice president of the student body council. And I am not going to give it up because you shitheads were too lazy to get things done quickly." Ryujin says , her eyes flaming with fury.

She's been running after all the student body members to start working on the upcoming inter college sport events for a whole week now . It's not her fault that the other members are starting to realize the urgency of the situation just two weeks prior to the event.( including the president, Mark Lee). She has the right to be angry.

"Okay ,everyone calm down. " You say, reluctantly,not wanting to be the centre of attention. You lick your dry lips before beginning to speak again, "We've wasted enough time worrying and talking okay? Let's go over the list of duties assigned and we can resume working again. "

"We just have two weeks, y/n. There's still so much left to do. We've barely started yet. " Ryujin whines, placing her head on Jungwoo's shoulder as he tries to shake her off.

"I know but if we work hard for say even ten days,we can get things done. We can stay back after college gets over and work and then rest on weekends. Exams are not arriving anytime soon either. "

"I agree with y/n. The event is next to next Monday so if we do overtime then we can still pull it off,despite everything." Johnny agrees , looking over at you with a charming smile. But instead of returning the smile, you look away ,cheeks tinted red.

Have you always been this nervous around him or does it have something to do with the sudden glow up he has had over the summer break? You don't know.

"Fine. Okay." Mark speaks out, "Jungwoo, can you go over the duties once again? And if possible take a picture of it and send it on our group chat. "

Nodding to Mark, Jungwoo takes out a sheet of paper from his pocket and starts reading it out. "So um... Mark and I are working on sending out invitations and collecting names of participants on the day of the event. Ryujin and Yuna are leading the decorating team. Lia,Taeyong and Johnny are working on the food stalls area and the packaging of free snacks for the participants. Jaehyun , Haechan and Doyoung are on the sound team for the DJ show after the events are over and lastly,Yeji, Chaeryong, y/n ,Yuta and Taeil are participating in the events so they will be busy with practice but we do expect them to manage the things overall and help us after class. "

Jungwoo looks out of breath after speaking for so long ,his chest heaving with each breath and his shoulders slumped.

"Okay, guys that will be all. Remember to do your jobs in your free periods and stay back after college." Ryujin says, clasping her hands together to symbolize the dismissal of today's student body meeting( more like a group stress out session).

You pick up your books and swing your bag across your shoulders while Ryujin pokes Jungwoo's cheeks with the sole purpose of annoying him but he flicks her fingers right away.

As you reach the exit of the auditorium, laughing at the bickering duo beside you and your hands reaching out to open the door , you see Johnny jogging up to you hastily and pushing the door open before you could.

"Ladies first." he says as he gestures for you to walk out , a sweet smile plastered on his lips.

Your heart hammers against your chest.

"Thank you." You murmur , avoiding his gaze as you walk out of the comfortable, air conditioned auditorium and into the scorching hot campus of your college.

You've always been this nervous around him, you realize, ever since you guys met in the first year of college - despite being a part of the same friend circle.

And how could you not? There are no books, no tutorials, no classes to teach you how to behave in front of your crush.

The student apartments are a good thirty minutes away from the college campus, and with the increasing velocity of Lia's car, your desire to flop down on your soft, cozy bed increases too.

"Yo ,anyone up for a girls night out tomorrow night? " Ryujin asks from the passenger's seat,not looking up from her phone. You see her fingers scrolling through the various new resto bars in town.

"Count me in. I am bored of eating Yeji's horrible food. " Chaeryong replies ,earning a punch from Yeji.

"If you're so good at cooking ,why don't you get your ass out of bed and cook?" Yeji spits back,rolling her eyes.

You laugh at your flatmates' childish tactics.

"Anyway, I'm in too." Yeji sighs, resting her head on your shoulder,sleepily.

"Yeah, me too!" Yuna chimes in.

"What about you ,Lia?" Ryujin asks her friend in the driver's seat.

Lia narrows her eyes at the road in front of her ,but you know for sure her mind is going over the pros and cons of going out tomorrow night. You've been her roommate for three years now ; you know her basically like the back of your own hand.

"I guess so,yeah." Lia says , changing the gear and turning over the corner into your appartment street.

"Okay ,that makes five out of six. Y/n?" Ryujin looks back at you , her pleading eyes drilling into yours.

As much as you want to relax and go out tomorrow night ,you have a busy schedule. Swimming practice for the sport events in the morning ,classes throughout the day, helping out with the organization and a study date with Yuta late at night. You are packed tomorrow.

That and you didn't want to get drunk on a week day.

"I'm sorry guys,I don't think I'll make it. I promised Yuta I'd study with him. " you say . Your flatmates groan out loud,throwing you dirty looks for ditching them for a stupid study date.

"Why does Yuta want to study with you anyway ? Your majors are like poles apart." Yuna mumbles.

Frankly, you didn't know why he wanted to study with you either. You were a computer science engineering student and his major was performing arts. But it's been a tradition between you two for quite a while now. Maybe you've gotten used to comfortable silence with him when you study , like music playing in background, not loud enough to distract you but loud enough to help you focus.

"Maybe it's not a study date with Yuta after all. Maybe it's just an excuse to see his roommate,right ,y/n?" Yeji teases ,nudging your ribs with her elbows.

You blush for the nth time today. "No. I'm going to have a normal study session with my best friend. Can y'all please not make everything about Johnny?" You huff.

You regret telling them about your fat ass crush on Johnny that one eventful night when you had so much alcohol that you couldn't even recognize your friends' faces as they carried you home. You should have just had apple juice or something.

Thankfully before the conversation could go on further , Lia pulls over in front of your apartment and you sigh in relief. "Yayy Home!" Ryujin chimes with fake enthusiasm as everyone gets down from the car.

Your shared bedroom with Lia is a little smaller than the bedroom that Yeji, Ryujin and Chaeryong share but you've never had a problem with that. It's cute and warm and it reminds you of your room in your parents' house .

"I'll shower first." Lia declares as she grabs her towel and walks straight into the bathroom. You sigh,too tired to compete with her for a bath. You drop on your bed, nuzzling your face into the soft pillow ,feet dangling by the edge of your bed.

And by the time Yeji walks into your room to ask what you want for dinner, you are already passed out ,with the image of Johnny's breathtakingly gorgeous grin on your mind.

Have you ever watched those cheesy rom com movies where the male lead lives in a dorm with five other boys and their rooms are so clean you wouldn't find a single piece of clothing out of place?

Well, reality is a bit different from that.

You stand in front of Yuta's apartment door which he shares with Johnny , Mark, Taeyong and Taeil , after your flatmates drop you off and make their way for their night out . You shiver as the cool night air kisses your bare arms and you can only hope someone let's you into the apartment before you freeze to death.

"Oh,hey y/n! " Taeil opens door with a welcoming smile , gesturing you to walk inside.

"Hi, Taeil. Took you guys long enough. " you say shivering , narrowing your eyes at the boy in front of you.

The smell of burnt pancakes hits your nose the moment Taeil locks the door behind you and your gaze immediately shifts to the kitchen where Mark and Taeyong are trying to desperately save some burnt pancakes.

"Well can you blame me? " Taeil shrugs , eyeing the two boys .

"Figured. " You say as you make your way towards Yuta 's bedroom . You hear Mark and Taeyong yell a few ' Hi's ' and 'wassup's ' in your direction and you reply to them without looking back at their sorry faces.

Yuta's ( and Johnny's) room is like a second home for you. You don't often hang out here but there's a homely feeling in the warm colored curtains and the smell of Johnny's favorite perfume and Yuta's anime posters.

"Wrong room. Johnny is in the other room." Yuta comments when you enter the room and you throw your notes at him,earning a fake groan in response.

You sit on the edge of his chair , putting out your books and notes on his study table, while he sits in a far corner of his bed , his study material spread out in front of him.

Studying with Yuta is always turns out to be productive for you. You both rarely talk while studying , your minds completley immersed in the hastily written notes and the only sound in the room being the scratching of pens against paper.

Maybe this was one of the many reasons why you preferred to study with him in his room (and totally not beacuse of Johnny who you are yet to meet).

After two and a half hours of being knee deep into your books ,you finally slam the books shut and stretch your limbs,relief flushing over you after looking at the many topics you covered tonight. You mentally pat yourself in the back.

"You done?" Yuta asks when he sees you scrolling through your phone, humming a song you'd heard on radio the other night.

You nod,not looking up at him.

He's about to add something when you hear the sound of shuffling feet outside the door , followed by a series of soft knocks. There is only one man in this apartment who could knock on a door as tenderly as that.

"What do you want ,dickwad?" Yuta yells as he falls onto his pillows. You glare at him. He's taking away your chances of seeing Johnny tonight. "Y/n is busy!"

Johnny peeks in through the door , his jet black hair messy and damp as if he'd just walked out of a shower. He wears a grey hoodie and a pair of black sweatpants yet he manages to look like he'd walked straight out of a sportswear advertisement. God really has his favorites, doesn't he?

"Hey, y/n. " he says ,completely ignoring Yuta's less than appropriate remarks. You feel a warm feeling spread in your entire body , adrenaline coursing through your veins. He sends a soft smile in your direction , his eyes turning into crescent moons ,and it is enough to make you feel weak in the knees.

"Hi, Johnny. " you manage to reply and smile back , unlike most days.

Johnny's heart leaps at your response ,not expecting you to be any different from other days when you would reply his enthusiastic greetings with a cold shoulder. Guess today is his lucky day.

"I didn't mean to disturb you guys ,sorry. I just wanted to know if you'd like to have dinner with us. We're getting Sushi. " he asks ,rubbing the back of his neck.

Your eyes fall on the sunflower tattoo on his forearm and you have this sudden urge to wrap your arms around his slim waist and bury your face in his chest.

"Yes,sure,I guess. " you say with a slight chuckle.

"Aren't you gonna ask me,too ,Johnny?" Yuta chimes in ,pouting and batting his eyes at him. Johnny rolls his eyes.

"Shut the fuck up ,Nakamoto. " he huffs.

Johnny looks over at you again and in a tone very different from the one he just used on Yuta, he asks, "Are you okay with sushi? We can order something else if you want."

"Oh,I love sushi! Don't worry about it. "

Lies. You hate sushi more than anything else in the entire universe.

The sushi is a lot more digestible today than those million times when Jaehyun and Yuta took you out to eat (forcefully) sushi.

It still doesn't suit your taste buds but you could eat it without wanting to throw up,thanks to the company you have .

You and Johnny sit face to face on the dining table while Yuta sits beside Johnny and Taeil ,Mark and Taeyong are in front of the television, watching a game of football.

"Hmm..this is really so good." Yuta exclaims as he takes the last piece and stuffs it inside his mouth . Fat ass.

"I know right. How are you liking it, y/n?" Johnny asks , his eyes shifting to you. You feel as if you're melting under his gaze. As if his eyes were the sun and you were ice.

"It's good. Really good. " you reply with a chuckle, forcing the last piece down your throat with a sip of water.

An achievement.

You hear Yuta's phone go off ,vibrating in his pockets along with that annoying ringtone of his.

"Yeah,what?" He speaks into the phone. You figure out it's one of his classmates by the careless tone of his voice.

"What the fuck? Are you serious?" Yuta screams , his voice now laced with urgency. His eyes widen, "We have a class test tomorrow? How did I not know about this?"

You look over at your panic stricken best friend and so does Johnny . Your gazes meet and the two of you burst into giggles.

Yuta rolls his eyes at the both of you but doesn't say anything. He gets up from his seat ,his phone still attached to his ear.

"Johnny,my dude,please walk my best friend home. I can't trust the others. Please. " Yuta says to Johnny and disappears off to his room , and you know for sure that he's going to cram his notes till the next morning.

Yuta's words lingers in the air between you and Johnny and you find a sudden interest in the hem of the table cloth in front of you. You rub the cloth between your thumb and forefinger ,the muslin cloth's soft texture distracting you from Johnny's intimidating gaze.

"So,um..when would you like to go back home?" He asks , not being able to muster up the courage to look into your eyes.

You chuckle- you didn't mean to but the bubbling laughter erupted from your throat and reached your lips before you could even stop it.

"Why? Do you want me out of your abode so bad? " you tease.

You never tease Johnny. You never even joke around with him. You don't smile at him ,you don't chuckle at him. Yet here we are.

You were being very brave today and you hated to admit it , but you liked it.

Johnny's eyes widen at your unexpected response as you once again surprise him by not giving him a cold, careless response. His heart does a backflip.

You have your lips curved up in a smile and your eyes focused on him.

This feels like a dream, to both of you.

"No, no ,of course not. You can stay for as long as you like." He replies nervously.

You shake your head with a soft giggle, " Thank you for the offer but it's very late now. All of us have a busy day tomorrow so we should get going now. "

The night air is cooler now than it had been when you arrived at the boys apartment and you regret not wearing warmer clothes.

Johnny walks along with you on the sidewalk, his eyes drifting to look over you once in a while. He carries your bag in his because he insisted that a lady shouldn't have to carry so many things when he's right there.

"Why do you never talk to me unless I talk to you first? " Johnny asks in a small voice after a few minutes of leaving their apartment.

Your body stiffens at the question, your mind desperately trying to come up with a proper reply. You want to answer him , with all honesty , that you can't do many things that you want to because of your never ending fears. You want to go bungee jumping but you're afraid of heights , you want to talk to him first but you're afraid he won't share the same enthusiasm as you.

You were afraid of attachments and afraid of the unknown, both of which were complete opposites of the other.

"That's not true." You reply,trying to laugh it off.

He looks at you with sorrowful eyes, not quite returning your laugh. You feel your heart clench.

"Have I done anything to offend you ,y/n? If yes ,then please let me know because I really care about you and I would hate to disappoint you. " he says.

The streets are quite and calm and for a moment, it is only you and Johnny in this vast universe - his beautiful black eyes and your warm cheeks , his tousled hair and your nervous hands.

"No ,you haven't disappointed me. It's just...that we're in a big friend circle and it's not possible to ,you know ,be close with everyone. "

That is a pathetic excuse, y/n, you tell yourself.

His lips curve up in a small smile now, the worried wrinkles from the corner of his eyes disappearing.

"We can be, y /n. Of course we can. Shall we start from now on then?" He replies , enthusiastically, thrusting his hand in your direction.

Your heart thumps at a speed faster than the speed of light as you decide whether or not to shake his perfectly shaped, veiny,soft hand.

You're afraid of attachments.

But you're also madly in love with Johnny Suh.

You take his hand.

It is late in the evening at your college and you know for sure that you'll be bashed the moment you step into the auditorium .

After classes got over ,you had promised Lia that you'd help with the food stalls allotation and decoration but you ended up staying back with your swim team ,discussing strategies for the final competition day , hence causing your delay.

You look over at Johnny who stands outside the auditorium door , helping the decorating team with some posters and flyers.

"Mark is mad." he says when he sees you rushing towards the door, struggling with all the books and posters and ribbons in your hands.

You sigh, " I know, goddamn it."

He opens the door without saying anything and walks behind you into the auditorium, much to your surprise.

You see Mark standing by the stage , letting out frustrated noises and pointing at random decorations which didn't need fixing but according to him they did. Oh , boy,was he mad.

"Mark, " you jog towards him, trying to get a proper hold of things you are carrying before you find a table to dump them on.

"Gosh,y/n! You are an hour and a half late! We have so much to do and only ten days are left!" He yells at you,pointing at his wrist watch.

You squeeze your eyes shut to lessen the impact of his annoyingly loud voice.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I was with the team and well..we lost track of time. I'm so sorry again ,okay? I'll get to work right now. " you say,standing in front of the angry,tiny man in front of you.

You arch your back, trying to hold on to the things in your arms without letting anything fall onto the ground. You had one too many things to carry and sadly only two hands.

"I'll get that for you." You feel two hands grab your things from behind,the arms going over your shoulders and taking the chart papers and ribbons from your hold.

And you don't even have to look back to know that it is Johnny. You have him memorised by heart - from the color of his eyes to the softness of his fingertips, from his soothing, honey like voice to his smell. He's like a book you've read a fair amount of times yet ,you never seem to get tired of it.

"Thank you. " you manage to reply through the loud sound of your heartbeat and gushing of blood in your ears.

You almost miss the warmth of his body when he walks away to put your things on the table .

You know what , " Mark starts. He looks like he's about to throw up. On you. "Just get back to work. Ew. Fuck. Y'all really getting handsy in front of my innocent eyes."

You look at him with wide eyes. "Hey, we were not - "

And if Ryujin had not interrupted you at that moment, you'd have beaten the hell out Mark Lee ; not because he had accused you of doing something you didn't do but because he had triggered a part of your imagination you didn't even know you had.

It is on the same night that Yeji makes you sit on the auditorium floor and color the huge college logo they had been outlining since the morning , while half of the squad goes out to buy some cheap dinner and cold drinks and the other half is working outside the auditorium.

"I can't believe you are leaving me alone in this huge auditorium. " you mutter when Yeji jogs towards the door to join the others. So much for being friends since childhood.

"We'll be back in fifteen to twenty minutes, y/n. " she replies. " or do you want me to call Johnny to keep you company in this huge ,empty auditorium?"

You roll your eyes at her,hoping she's joking about it. But apparently not because within two minutes , you see Johnny walking up towards you.

His presence as if automatically puts a smile on your face ,like flipping on a light switch. You usually tense up on seeing him but from the last few days, things have been different, better even.

"Woah,this looks so cool." He says as he sits across from you, a pen and notepad in his hands. He smiles at you with so much sincerity that it takes everything in you to not throw yourself at him and press a kiss to his dimples.

"I know. But I'm afraid my poor coloring skills are going to ruin it. " you comment. You dip the brush in your hands into the bowl of water sitting beside you.

"I'm sure it'll be good. It looks good already." He replies, his voice laced with fascination. You giggle at his words , as you stretch your hands and back, groaning from all the pent up tension in your joints. Something you wouldn't have dared to do in front of him a few weeks ago.

Johnny laughs. " I can help you if you want . You can rest till the others come back. " You don't even think twice before agreeing.

As long as he's near you , it doesn't matter.

He comes up to sit by your side ,grabbing the paint brush and starting to fill colors into the blank spaces. With his eyes focused on the picture , you sit back and take in the view in front of you. The long sleeves of his tshirt are rolled upto the elbow, exposing the veins on his forearm. There is dirt and dust on his pants from all the work he's been doing today and then your eyes fall on his face, absorbing the handsome features god had bestowed him with. You notice a few strands of longer hair falling over his forehead, covering his eyes as he struggles to remove them with his non dominant hand. And before you can stop yourself , your fingers find their way to his forehead, pushing his hair away softly.

"Thanks,y/n." He says with a shy smile, the undeniable shine in his eyes almost makes you see a ray of hope - that Johnny Suh might be harboring the same feelings for you that you do for him. Your heart swells with excitement.

And without even realizing it, you feel yourself find comfort in his warm presence.

Your middle school maths teacher had once told you that time passes in the blink of an eye when there's an imminent danger at the end of the line and truly so ,the next few days fly pass by like wind and you soon find yourself running from place to place to make sure all finishing touches are done.

"Did you check out the pool areas and basketball bleachers? " Jaehyun asks, as you two make your way to the auditorium where Mark and Ryunin were to hold a last group meeting before tomorrow's big day. "Yeah. I did. Twice." You reply, stressing on the last word. Jaehyun heaves a tired sigh and you two turn a corner to walk toward the auditorium.

Your heart rate picks up when you see a familiar face standing in front of the door, leaning against a pillar. And you find your lips automatically stretching into a smile. "What is he doing outside ? Is the meeting over? " Jaehyun asks when he notices Johnny.

You shrug , "Don't know."

Oh,but you do know why he's outside ; this has now become an unsaid tradition between you two to wait for the other during group meetings. Johnny didn't acknowledge it,neither did you, but it was there, as distinct as Mark Lee's voice.

He sees you and his face breaks into a grin, his cheeks flushed and heart racing just like yours. And it makes the light at the end of the tunnel shine brighter.

"Is the meeting over yet?" Jaehyun asks Johnny, you following close behind.

"No,not even started." Johnny replies and then turns to you, his eyes burning into yours. " And Y/n and I have been instructed to buy tonight's dinner so we I'll borrow her for a while."

Your eyes widen at the new information but you see Jaehyun shrug and walk inside as if it weren't a big deal - but it was, you will be out alone with Johnny and it was making you feel sick , in a good way.

"Shall we get going?" He asks you ,cocking his eyebrows playfully.

You nod ,trying to hide your red cheeks. And he sees them.

You've been into his car only a a few times , most of which you don't remember because either you were too drunk or too sleepy to register what was happening around you. This is the first time you are actually inside his car,mind and body, sitting in the passenger's seat and taking in Johnny's smell that lingers in every corner of the car.

You notice how tidy the car looks,the clean seats and windows, no extra tissues lying here and there, no money receipts crushed into seat pockets, his car is everything Lia's isn't. The drive to the convenient store is short and silent - except for a few glances you both steal at each other without the other knowing.

"What should we get? Instant noodles or something else?" He asks you as you two look around the different aisles, walking close together that you didn't even realise your shoulder was pressed to his arm till he stopped abruptly in front of the fridge.

You clear your throat, "Let's get instant noodles. That's what they eat always anyway."

He nods and you grab enough instant noodles and drinks for your entire squad and soon find yourself back in the car with him.

You settle yourself into the seat as he climbs into the driver's seat,looking apparently angry, his eyebrows knitted and mouth turned into a frown.

"What's wrong? " you ask him ,concerned.

He looks over at you , with a small, guilty smile on his lips. He shakes his head , "Nothing. It's a ridiculous thought I had suddenly. "

"Come on ,tell me ." You whine , hitting his arm softly, "I'm sure its not a ridiculous thought. "

His smile widens but he doesn't answer ,instead he just leans toward you, Your faces just inches apart. If you were nervous before now you are completely sure you're about to lose your mind. You had imagined these scenarios in your head many times before ,but if truth be told, it feels way better in real life. The close proximity of your bodies , mixed breathings and his intense eyes staring at you like you're his favorite pizza, like you're a sunday morning after a very tiring week , like you're a beautiful flower in the middle of a field of weeds.

"W-what?" You stutter nervously. He chuckles , stretching his hand out to reach for the seatbelt and pull it across your body and then locks it tightly.

"It is a very , very ridiculous thought,y/n." he whispers. He is still leaning so close to you and you know for sure that if you weren't sitting already ,your knees would have given up below you.

"I'm sure it's not." You mumble but you're not sure if he hears you.

When you reach the auditorium, you find your friends sprawled on the floor, some playing with their phones and some having a mid college existential crisis.

"Guys,we're back. " Johnny announces enthusiastically as he runs towards the group, all of their faces lighting up when they see the food your hands.

But you feel far away from them, like you are there but your heart is not,like your heart has been left behind in Johnny's car,covered in his scent and his intoxicating gaze.

"Y/n, why do you look like you've seen a ghost? " Lia points out that night , lying on her bed with her blanket wrapped around her body. You shrug and let out a fake ass shit giggle, "No, I'm just nervous...for tomorrow, you know."

"Don't be. I'm sure you'll do great and even if you don't, we have an after party to wash all your sorrows away. " she says with an excited smile.

"Oh wow,that's great. " you reply with another fake chuckle.

Oh wow, you'll have to be around Johnny the whole day tomorrow. You are not sure if you are ready to see him yet.

Lia narrows her eyes at you but let's it slip,and you're thankful for that ,for you wouldn't know what to tell her when she insists on knowing your thoughts.

Could anyone blame you though, you'd had an almost moment with your crush. How could anyone expect you to be okay right now?

The weather prediction for today was sunny with a few clouds , but if only anyone could have prepared you for what you were going to see the moment you stepped into the college campus.

You'd felt jealous before , no lie there. You remember the time you saw Johnny hanging out with Yeri, one of your juniors, and laughing with her like there's no tomorrow and you had never wanted to annihilate a human so bad . You hate being jealous. You hate the burning of your heart in your chest ,the accumulation of sweat on your palms, the warm,angry breaths you push out from your nostrils.

"Who is that?" You sound like a bad , jealous female character from a drama when you ask that question but you cannot help yourself anymore. Not when you see a girl from another college running into your Johnny's arms ,giggling like a little girl .

"I-I honestly don't know. He never told us about any girl ." Taeyong says as he looks at your exasperated expression and then at Johnny's excited face. Taeyong is almost angry at Johnny for hurting his friend.

"Yea,he only ever talked about you ." Jaehyun adds from beside you.

But it didn't seem like that from where you stood. You see Johnny wrap his arm around the girl and crush her in his embrace, just how he'd crushed your heart into a million pieces. Something as fragile and previous as your heart and he decided to play with it? Why did he act all nice and sweet to you when he already had another woman in his life? Why did he give you hope only to leave you in the dark?

"Come on , y/n. Don't overthink about it. I'm sure she's just a friend." Taeyong says ,softly tugging at your arm to move you away from that scene.

Taeyong and Jaehyun, in reality, were shocked too. They had never heard Johnny talk about any girl in that way but you. They were sure one day or other,you'd end up together. They were as surprised (and disappointed) as you were.

"Has he ever told you that he liked me? Even once?" Your voice cracks as you feel your eyes fill with tears. "Maybe she's not just a friend. "

Jaehyun rubs your back comfortingly, worried about how he'll have to handle Yuta when he finds out Johnny broke his best friend's heart. Gosh,its going to be a world war.

"He has never openly said anything about liking you ,but he did talk about you a lot. Even until yesterday...we were sure he liked you,dude." Taeyong says .

You shake your head, "If he did like me ,he'd have told you guys. He doesn't and that's the end of it."

And although it shatters your ego , you look away from the pair and walk toward the swimming pool complex where your team awaits you.

When you enter the pool area, Taeyong and Jaehyun immediately run toward the audience to be with the others.

And you find your gang-sans Johnny- waving at you from the audience as you walk up to the registration desk and put in your name.

Your heart feels so heavy ,like those dumbbells that Yuta uses ,but a thousand times more heavier. You have no desire or energy to swim anymore. You just want to lie in bed and cry your heart out.

But sadly you didn't have much of an option..

"Good luck, y/l/n. Go easy on the opponents." Your coach tells you with a chuckle. You force a smile as you nod. Talk about overestimating one's skills.

You enter the changing room and quickly strip off all your clothes ,leaving you in your tight Speedo swimsuit . You tie your hair in a ponytail and are about to head out when someone bumps into you ,quite roughly to be frank.

"Watch out ,girl,jeez. " you mutter to her,rubbing your sides.

The jealousy from a few minutes ago comes back but this time not in the form of drizzle, this time it's a whole storm.

It's the same girl from before, the one with Johnny.

"I'm so sorry. " the girl says ,looking back at you with an apologetic look.

She's pretty,you realize. Long black hair and a mole under her eye ,she looks like she could be a model in training somewhere. Long eyelashes , a slim waist and perfectly smooth looking skin ,she has everything you ever wanted ,including Johnny Suh. She's pretty ,prettier than you at least.

"What's your name?" You don't want to know that name ,yet those words spill out of your mouth.

"I'm Joy. From the performing arts college." She thrusts her hand towards you for a handshake. " and you?"

"I'm y/n. " you reply ,the frown on your lips never once leaving .

"You're swimming too ,right? It's going to be great!" She says.

"Yeah,its going to be really great. " you take her hand.

You can't have Johnny ,but at least you can have the trophy.

*

The four basic stroke races get over within the first one hour of the competition and needless to say ,by the time the relay race was announced , you had three gold medals already in your possession.

"Relax your body." Your coach tells your team of girls while you stand in line,ready for the relay race to begin. "Y/n, since you're going last , put in all your energy. We need to win this last round to get the grand trophy."

Directly in front of you, you see your two other teammates stand and stretch their arms by the pool’s edge , their faces bright with a hint of excitement and nervousness. Beside them ,you see Joy and her other pretty friend getting for the race too. With her tight red swimsuit and perfectly done forearm tattoo , she has everyone's attention on her. And you bet that everyone in the audience was rooting for her.

You nod at your coach's words while he turns around to speak with your partner as you once again look at your new mortal enemy, your teeth gritting unconsciously and your gaze turning more into a glare.

"Yayyy!!! Y/n,let's get it!" You hear your friends cheer from and you giggle for the first since this stupid day began. Mark ,Yuta and Taeyong are cheering for you on top of their lungs while the girls are holding posters with your name written on them . You wonder when they had the time to make them. And the rest of the guys are clapping their hands like there's no tomorrow.

Everyone except Johnny.

He sits in between Mark and Haechan, his eyes practically glued to your frame and your eyes meet his for an annoyingly long second, he smiles at you and mouths 'best of luck .'

You look away from him ,your body burning with rage. So now he's going to pretend to know you? Or maybe he wasn't waving at you at all,maybe he is just looking at Joy and your self absorbed mind assumed that he was looking at you? Possibilities are infinite but time is not; time is very precious.

"You guys have to win okay?" You hear the coach say one last time , before patting you on your heads and walking away.

Somewhere behind you ,you hear a stand by whistle go off and your team mates on the opposite side immediately walk up on the platform.

"On your marks."

Thump.

"Get , set."

Thump.

"Go!"

The race starts off pretty smoothly, your teammate cutting through the water as if this is everything she'd ever known ,her speed unmatched with anyone else's. And when she reaches your side,your partner immediately jumps off into the water , the steady speed still maintained.

The next few seconds pass fleet away in the blink of an eye and soon your turn comes up ,you realize, as you climb up to the platform ,bending over to take a diving position.

And when your body hits the water ,you feel all the anger ,rage, sadness, envy being channeled into strength and energy. Your body moves against the waves like that it what it was meant to be doing ; not running, not walking but swimming.

Your ears block out all noises around you,your mind focusing on nothing but the finish line.

And the very second your hand touches the wall on the opposite side , your body relaxes and your head pops out of the water like a cork. The audience erupts into claps and cheers and whistles and your name being repeated on everyone's tongue.

Panting and smiling and fist pumping together at the same time is tiring but you do it anyway.

After all,you'd just won your team the swimming trophy.

You feel a little light headed but it doesn't affect you at all ; you had proven yourself in front of your friends and teachers once again .

Johnny and His lovely Joy can go eat shit for all you care. ( you do care about Johnny , you're just being stupid rn)

"I'm so proud of you , baby !" Ryujin helps you up from the pool while the other girls engulf you in a hug ,not minding the fact that your entire body is dripping wet with the chlorinated pool water.

The guys arrive shortly after and Yuta presses a loving kiss on your head, "Congratulations, bitch."

But amongst the crowd of people surrounding you, the pats on your back and side hugs,the happy faces congratulating you, you feel almost empty. Like something was missing. Like the last piece of an almost completed puzzle .

Your eyes scan the people around you , looking for none other than Johnny and when you finally spot him, your heart breaks even more as if it already wasn't completely smashed into tiny pieces .

Joy has tears of failure running down her face and Johnny brushes them away with his thumbs, her head finding a comfortable place on his shoulders.

You'd always wondered what it must feel like to be in such an intimate situation with Johnny. You had wanted to experience it ,first hand , but by the looks of it, that might never happen.

Beacuse you winning the competition is not more important than Joy losing it.

Beacuse you are not more important than Joy.

"What do you mean you don't want to go to the after party? " Yuta has been hanging out with Mark way too much, you think. His voice is almost,if not more, as loud and annoying as Mark's now.

"I don't feel very good. Can you please drop me home? Then you guys can go and have fun." You reply, not quite looking at your best friend. You're afraid he'd be able to read through you , just how he always does.

"This is not about you , is it? It's about Johnny. Taeyong and Jaehyun told me." There he goes.

"Think whatever you want. I just want to be alone for a while, please." You say.

He pauses the music playing in the car, tugging at the sleeve of your tshirt.

The image of Johnny and Joy flash in your mind ,still fresh even though it happened a almost five hours ago. You remember how tenderly Johnny had held her and how lovingly Joy had stared at him.

“I really thought he liked me ,you know. I don’t even blame him right now. I should have known better than to get attached,break my oath of forever maintaining distance from him. “ you speak in a hoarse voice, the lump in your throat growing painfully.

Yuta stares at you for a few seconds,then shakes his head with his eyes on the car dashboard, “Its not your fault either, y/n. All of us thought he liked you too.”

You see Yuta take out the keys from his pocket and the pretty,yellow flower keychain attached with it.Johnny had given him that on his last birthday,you recall.

Your eyes drift to various places in the car, from the blue heart sticker on the mirror, to the bills stacked into the pockets, the empty cold drink bottles and the smell of lavender spray in the air, everything reminds you of the man you were trying so hard not to think about.  

You start softly crying.

"Y/n, goddamnit, you won the completion! You are our swimming champion. And you helped us organize this event too. You're today's star. Would you really let that asshole ruin it?" Yuta demands,passing over a tissue to you.

The words ' that asshole ' stick with you , stinging your heart which was still in love with Johnny but you don’t say anything. Yuta was only trying to make you feel better.

Not earning a reply from you,he groans,"I don't care what you want ,y/n. We're going to the after party at Haechan's family farm house and staying there tonight. That's Final. " he declares , turning the key and you hear the car engine revving.

"I'll cry if I see him. " you pout,sniffing.

"Don't worry, if he makes you cry,I'll kill him.." Yuta replies as you drive off to Haechan's farm house.

The entire drive, your mind keeps playing the moments you were trying so hard to forget and you hated it. So,so much. You felt like a prisoner in your own mind.

Yesterday night , in the car,when Johnny leaned down towards you, you could have sworn that he was in love with you.

But now, not as much.

You wonder if Joy had felt special when he comforted her ,because you sure as hell would have. You would have held him like the earth was ending today and he was only thing that could keep you alive.

"We're here. " Yuta announces as you pull over in front of the huge mansion just a little away from your college campus.

You have been here many times before so the beauty of the house doesn't baffle you anymore but your eyes do go wide in realization of how rich Haechan's family really is. Every damn time.

As you step out of the car , your sneakers squeaking against the ground beneath you, you can already hear the loud music coming from the lawn and the smell of barbecued food and alcohol makes you almost want to enjoy the party.

"You're late,y/n!" A very drunk Doyoung walks towards you ,Taeil waddling behind him with two glasses of vodka shots in his hands.

"I know I'm sorry. I hope I didn't miss much." you say ,slightly embarrassed at the fact that you almost skipped the party.

They both hug you tightly as you wince from the strong smell of alcohol, "Congratulations ,sweetheart!" Taeil slurs while Doyoung sings, " we are the champion ~" on the top of his lungs.

"Gosh,yeah,thanks guys." you push their intoxicated bodies away with Yuta's help and make your way towards the lawn where your friends sit around a bonfire , dancing ,singing ,talking ,having the time of their lives. You find yourself smiling a little on seeing at their happy faces. Your eyes roam around the group until they find Johnny , eating roasted marshmallows from a small plate and your first instinct is almost to say ' hi ' but you remember Joy and how painfully sweet they were with each other and you revert your eyes from him the moment he looks in your direction. Your heart paces rapidly, yearning for his attention but you know you wouldn't get it ,no matter what, so you walk inside the house, into the kitchen to grab something for yourself.

"That piece of shit Yeji burnt the meat." Chaeryong complains to you as she volunteers to fill your plate with food. You wonder how many more such swimming competitions you'd have to win for your friends to be this generous with you everyday. "Thank god Taeil saved it before he got horribly drunk." , she adds.

You giggle a little.

All of a sudden, you feel a tap on your shoulder and when you turn around , you are filled with dread. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t expect this.

" Hey,y/n. Congratulations on winning the trophy!" Johnny says with a bright smile.

As if you give two shits about it, you find yourself thinking for a split second. You look up at the tall man towering over you,smiling like he didn't butcher your heart earlier. He wears a warm grey hoodie with his favorite and probably only pair of blue jeans. His hair is slicked backwards ,exposing the forehead you'd often wait so eagerly to see. His signature cologne makes you feel weak , and if you weren't sober ,you knew things would have gone down pretty quick.

But you can't be rude to him - you could never be rude to him even if you wanted to.

"Thanks." You mutter in a small voice,taking the plate from Chaeryong.

Johnny furrows his eyebrows at your dull reaction and then eyes Chaeryong as if to ask what happened. She shrugs and awkwardly walks away from you two.

Brilliant. Now you have to face Johhny alone.

"Is something wrong,y/n?" He asks ,his concerned voice sending shivers down your body.

You shake your head, "No. Why do you ask?" You look around the place to look for your best friend. Where's he when you need him the most?

Johnny leans over closer to you. "You were ignoring me during the competition but I shrugged it off. And now you're acting like that again. " he says ,his breath fanning for against the side of your face, "I must have done something. "

You want to push him away but as shameless as it sounds , you were enjoying this attention he was giving you and even more than that, you were enjoying how physically close he was to you.

But it didn't mean you would forgive him. Or Joy for that matter.

"Why should you care," you chuckle sarcastically , "I'm not Joy. So don't bother."

Change of mind - maybe you could be rude to him if you tried really,really hard.

His face twists in further confusion.

" How do you know her? And why is she in this conversation again?" He asks,now softly pushing you against the kitchen counter , his hands on either side of you. He has you trapped ,literally.

You sigh, trying to hide the burning of your cheeks and the drying of your throat. You can't let your guard down. "I saw you...with her in the morning. Hugging, staring at each other like you saw the galaxy in each other's eyes. " you huff , your heart heavy from the pain that memory brings.

Johnny laughs , a deep, genuine laughter,erupting from his throat fills the kitchen. You feel like you were walking in the same tunnel again, Johnny waiting for you at the end with a source of light in his hands.

"Are you perhaps ," he leans in closer to your face, just like last night in the car ,"jealous?"

Of course you were jealous. You had always been jealous of anyone who was privileged enough to enjoy Johnny's extremely pleasant company ,especially in your absence.

" No. " Liar.

He presses his lips together in a line ,as if trying to suppress a smile.

"Then why are you turning red like a tomato?" He asks.

You turn your face away from him ,trying to move away from his grasp but he gently puts his index finger under your chin and makes you look at him.

"Y/n, Joy is my cousin." he says. Guilt punches you in the stomach like your stomach were a punching bag and the guilt was a boxer,strong and determined. You feel the blood pulsating in your ears ,in your throat ,in your temples. "I am not dating her or seeing her or whatever you think I'm doing with her. "

You look down at your feet but he makes you look at him again "I'm sorry." You mutter

"Do you remember last night I told you I had some useless thoughts?" He asks you ,his right hand now wrapping around your waist.

You nod your head ,the shame and guilt of falsely accusing him and Joy of something they never did not allowing you to look directly into his eyes.

"This is what I wanted to do. " he pulls your chin closer ,as you stand on your tip toes. Your faces were just so close ,you could feel his lips brush past yours, "May I?" He breathes.

You only find a small whisper to reply him with, "Yes. "

The feeling of his lips pressing against yours was something even your imagination couldn't have prepared you for. His soft, tender touch mixed with the urgency of the kiss made it feel even more surreal than it already was. Your noses glide against each other as he presses you closer and closer till there was no ' closer ' left. He held you firmly by the waist and your hands found their way around his neck as you depended the kiss,your tongues touching and breaths matching each other. You could feel the taste of the marshmallows from earlier and your stomach feels all giddy and excited.

And by the time you both pull away, you are panting, struggling to catch your breath as he supports your body against the counter.

"I like you ,y/n. I always have. I just didn't know how to approach you. " he says , brushing a few hair strands away from your forehead, "And I'm so sorry for making you upset today."

You giggle a little, confused whether to reply to his confession or accept his apology.

You decide to do both. " I like you ,too,Johnny Suh. So much. " you lean your forehead on his ," and it's fine. You didn't mean to make me feel bad ,I was being paranoid. I'm sorry too. "

Johnny pulls away to look at you ,his swollen lips curved into a heartwarming smile.

"I bet you looked cute while being jealous." He says , pecking your nose softly.

You don't reply ; instead you stare at his eyes, your heart pumping out these overwhelming emotions that you couldn't quite understand yet but liked it nevertheless. Your eyes shine like the sky on a cloudless night,making his knees feel like jelly and butterflies erupting in his stomach. At that moment , you realise that it was your eyes wherein he found his galaxy , his sun and stars - not Joy, not any other woman - it was always been you.

[suituuup]

I’ve got a prompt. Established Bechloe, one of the girls suggests doing a passion painting kits for couples and frame it as an inside joke at their big house. The one who suggests it it’s obviously embarrassed but it turns out to be a really passionate activity 😅 Write it if you can, your work is amazing :)

the bob ross of sex painting

Rating: E

Word count, 1,7k

ao3 link

*

 Chloe

  Wanna stay in instead of going out with the girls tonight? I bought us a little something...    😏

 Beca’s attention is pulled away from the meeting as her phone lights up with the incoming text, and she nearly chokes on the water she just sipped from her bottle.

 “You alright, Beca?” Her boss asks, pausing in his speech as Beca nearly coughs up her lungs.

 “Yep,” she manages, her face flaring from both nearly choking to death and the imagery of Chloe wearing the little something she just bought. “Yep. I’m cool. Went down the wrong pipe.”

 She shoots her wife a quick text once the meeting ends, wishing she could just head home right now.

 Beca

 Hell yeah. Be home around 7. Love you.

 “Chlo?” She calls out when she steps through their front door around seven, dropping her keys into the bowl by the entrance and shrugging off her jacket.

 She’s picked up dinner on the way home; sushi from Chloe’s favorite place.

 “In the kitchen!”

 Smiling, Beca toes off her shoes and tucks them away in their specific spot before padding across their large living room towards the kitchen. They bought this brownstone in Brooklyn when Beca signed with Virgin Records, halfway between her studio and Chloe’s clinic. It’s got two living rooms, a large kitchen and dining room, an office, three bathrooms and four bedrooms upstairs that they intend on filling in the years to come.

 For now though, they’re perfectly content enjoying married life before they start a family.

 “Hello,” she mumbles into Chloe’s neck as she wounds her arms around her waist from behind.

 “Hi,” Chloe murmurs, leaning back against her. “How was work?”

 “Mm, okay. My devil of a wife made the afternoon seem pretty long though,” she says, brushing a series of kisses along the side of Chloe’s neck.

 Chloe giggles. “Whoops?” She turns in Beca’s arms and captures her lips in a proper, if not slightly more heated hello kiss than usual. “Missed you.”

 It kind of blows Beca’s mind how they’re still in the honeymoon phase two years and a half after their wedding. Don't get her wrong; they argue here and there, but it’s pretty much been domestic bliss.

 “I can tell,” Beca husks with a smirk, her head slightly spinning from that kiss. She runs her palms up and down Chloe’s sides. “Missed you, too. So what did you buy?”

 Chloe laughs. “Eager much?” She slides out from Beca’s embrace to walk to the kitchen island, grabbing the plastic bag laying on the surface.

 Furrowing her brow, Beca takes it and pulls out the tube. “Love is Art?” She reads the inscription in a perplexed tone, her gaze flickering back to Chloe.

 “It’s a passion painting kit,” Chloe answers with a grin.

 “A… passion painting kit,” Beca drawls out, her confusion only growing. “Okay?”

 Chloe chuckles. “Basically, we cover each other in paint and… do it.” She nods towards the tube. “On that canvas.”

 Beca’s eyebrows fly up at that. That sounds… messy. “Huh?”

 Chloe nods again. “We’re gonna be the Bob Ross of sex painting. I bought blue and gold for, y’know, Bellas colors. Wanna try tonight?”

 Still utterly confused, Beca purses her lips. “I thought the thing you bought was a sex toy.”

 “Oh, that too. It’s already upstairs, sanitized and everything. The one you’ve been looking at online.”

 Beca feels her face heat up, which draws another chuckle for her wife. “O-okay. Cool. Cool cool cool. Let’s… have sex with paint.” Realizing how that sounds, she quickly adds. “On us.”

 They enjoy dinner first, along with one too many glasses of wine, and are both pleasantly buzzed by the time they decide to give the project a try. Chloe is clearly excited about it and while Beca’s still a bit dumbfounded by the whole thing, she’s curious to see the end result. She heads upstairs a few minutes after Chloe to find her spreading out the paper canvas on the floor, over a large plastic sheet that she supposes protects the carpet underneath from any paint splatters.

 “Need any help?” She asks, amusement leaking through her tone.

 “Nope!” Chloe straightens and pads over, setting her hands on Beca’s hips. “Hi.”

 “Hello wife,” Beca husks, the thought that the paint might never come off afterwards and they might forever look like smurfs dissipating as soon as Chloe looks at her like that. She cranes her neck, crushing the slight height difference between them to capture Chloe’s lips in a slow, deep kiss.

 Chloe hums, opening her mouth further to skim her tongue over Beca’s bottom lip.

 Inhaling through her nose, Beca lets her hands slide up Chloe’s back, pushing their bodies closer.

 Their make out session quickly turns hot and heavy thanks to their yearning following a busy week without much sex, and pieces of clothing soon add on to a pile on the floor.

 “Am I wearing it or are you?” She murmurs into Chloe’s ear. Their new skin tone strapless strap-on sits on the bed, ready for use.

 “You know you want me to wear it,” Chloe rasps with a light laugh. “But paint first.”

 “Paint. Right.” Beca gives her wife a salute and grabs the tubes, smearing some blue across Chloe’s chest, then gold. It’s sloppy and messy, but they manage to get themselves mostly covered.

 Chloe squirts the last of the paint directly on the canvas next, then looks at Beca expectantly.

 “Go on, I want your cute butt print on it,” she says, grinning while Beca rolls her eyes.

 Beca gathers her hair up in a bun and yelps as she sits down on the canvas. “Fuck it’s cold.”

 “Don’t squirm, you’ll mess it up!” Chloe cries with another laugh.

 “Stop being so bossy!” Beca cries back, glaring at her as she reclines on her elbows. “Now get      your     butt over here.”

 Chloe giggles, applying some lube on the appendage before she kneels at the bottom of the canvas and hovers above Beca. She kisses her lightly, the tip of the strap on bumping against Beca’s clit and pulling a groan from her.

 “I love fucking you with this,” Chloe rasps into her ear, taking the lobe between her lips and suckling. While Beca was unsure about them being able to set the mood with this whole paint scenario, those words definitely make her arousal soar. “You’re ready for me baby?”

 “Mhm-mhm,” Beca breathes, kissing Chloe languidly as she grips the base of the strap on, giving it a light tug and swallowing Chloe’s moan. She guides the tip to her entrance, her hand moving to Chloe’s hip and squeezing to get her to tilt them forward. The length of the toy easily slides in, its tip reaching a heavenly spot inside her that makes her vision blur for a second. “Holy shit.”

 “Good?” Chloe asks, pausing in her motions.

 Her head bobs up and down. “Fuck, yeah.”

 Their noses bump together as Beca fuses their lips in a sloppy kiss, her hand leaving a blue imprint on Chloe’s cheek. Chloe starts with a slow rhythm, alternating between long strokes and rotating motions of the hips, effectively working Beca towards her peak without rushing her to it and extending her pleasure.

 “Let’s switch it up,” Beca suggests after a little while, pushing a quick kiss to Chloe’s lips and waiting for her to pull out and roll on her back before she shifts to straddle her hips.

 One of Chloe’s hands wraps around Beca’s left breast, giving it a generous squeeze as Beca slowly lowers herself on the dildo. She tosses her head back, tilting her hips forward and back while keeping her gaze locked on her wife’s.

 Chloe whimpers, her hands possessively gripping Beca’s hips. “Oh my god, keep going.”

 Beca knows the motion repeatedly drives the other, shorter end of the toy against Chloe’s clit, and the pleasure on her wife’s face makes Beca never want to stop. She selfishly doesn’t want Chloe to come without her though, and resumes her vertical thrusts, steadily picking up in rhythm as minutes tick by. The oily paint makes her knees a bit slippery every time she pushes onto them, but she’s too far gone to really give a fuck about her precarious balance.  

 “Fuck baby, I’m close,” she croaks out, her fingers curling into the canvas for lack of something better to hold onto as she feels herself nearing her release.

 “Me too,” Chloe rasps, pushing on her arms and sitting up, wrapping them around Beca’s waist and pushing a sloppy kiss to her lips. She drives her hips up and into Beca, that final thrust enough to send Beca tumbling over the edge.

 She comes with a hoarse cry, her nails digging into Chloe’s shoulder blades as spasms make her body twitch. “Holy fuck.”

 Chloe hums against her skin, holding Beca close as she comes down.

 “How do we get to the bathroom without making a mess, now?” Beca asks after a little while, huffing a chuckle.

 “They provide plastic slippers. Here,” Chloe stretches to grab the two pairs, handing one to Beca. “Round 2 in the shower?”

 “Hell yeah.”

 After a thorough clean and another round of lovemaking, they pad back into the bedroom clad in the matching bathrobes Beca’s mom got them as a wedding gift.

 “Kinda looks like we murdered Smurfette,” Beca muses aloud as she takes in their piece of art.

 Chloe laughs, bumping her shoulder against Beca’s. “I think it looks pretty cool.”

 “Me too.”

 “Where should we hang it?”

 Beca glances at her wife in surprise. “You wanna hang it?”

 “Well, yeah. That’s kind of the point of the whole thing.”

 “Not in the living room,” Beca grumbles. “Stacie will definitely know what it is and I’m      not    having that conversation with her.”

 “She’s the one who suggested it,” Chloe admits next, biting on her bottom lip.

 Beca groans. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to the fact that Chloe and Stacie often talk about their respective sex lives. “Of course she is.”

 “We could hang it above the bed?”

 Chloe always has the last word when it comes to decorating their home, so Beca rarely argues.

 “Sure, whatever you want, honey.”

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Day 13: Water Flowed- Llewyn Davis

Day 13: Water Flowed- Llewyn Davis 

Pairing: Llewyn Davis x F!Reader

Rating: 18 + seriously sexy times ahead and cursing 

Warnings: This is the filthiest thing I have ever written and the first time I have ever written smut. Blowjob, fingering, and p in v sex. 

I am so soft for this man. *sigh* A huge SHOUT OUT to my beta reader for this story @yespolkadotkitty​ who did an amazing job helping me! Go check out her stories they are amazing!! 

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 12: It Evaded Me - Poe Dameron 

Another clap of thunder shakes the window. You jump slightly at the loud noise, and your cup shatters to the floor of your small kitchen. You sigh before carefully tiptoeing around the mess and going to slide on your slippers, grabbing the broom from the small coat closet and cleaning up the mess. You toss the remnants of your mug in the trash before making your way over to the window. Water flows down the glass as you watch the scene outside. There aren’t many people out right now and the few that are move  in a hurry to escape the downpour. You frown, thinking about all the homeless outside that are probably hunkering down in shelters across New York to escape the storm. 

Your thoughts can’t help but drift to one drifter in particular, your friend Llewyn. Is he outside in this? Is he safe? Is he warm? Your thoughts consume you, filling you with a need to make sure he’s ok, and you go over to your phone and grab the rolodex, pulling out the number for Jim and Jean.

Jean answers on the third ring, her voice tinged with annoyance, “Hello?” 

You cringe, you’ve never really liked Jean, “Hi it’s uhm Y/N, I was just wondering... is Llewyn there?” 

“Did he move in here without me knowing?” she snaps. 

“Uhm no...no it’s just raining really hard and I just wondered if he was- with you and Jim.” 

“Well he’s not here; why don’t you try the Gorfeins. I’m sure he’s over bothering them.” She hangs up the phone without waiting for a reply. 

You stared at the phone in disgust. And put the card with their number back and pull out the Gorfeins, dialing the number. 

“Hello?” the sweet voice of Lillian comes through the receiver. 

“Oh hi Lillian, this is Y/N... I was just calling to see if Llewyn is there?” 

“Oh... no, honey. He was here a few days ago but we have our daughter in town this week so he said he had somewhere else to go.” 

“Oh, ok, thank you so much for letting me know, I’ve just been worried about him with this storm. Thank you again Lillian - and have a lovely time with your daughter.” 

“Talk to you later, dear,” she tells you before ending the call.

You spend the next forty minutes calling through the variety of people you know Llewyn stays with, and you receive the same response. No Llewyn. As a last result you pull out your phone book and call the Gaslight, hoping that maybe he took refuge there, but the gruff owner, Pappi, gives you the same response. 

The storm intensifies, mirroring your mood. 

You look outside for another minute before you make your decision. You go over to the coat rack by your door and pull on your yellow rubber boots, buttoning up your raincoat to your throat, and grabbing your umbrella. You lock the door behind you and take off into the storm. You need to find him even if it’s just to confirm he was okay. 

You get in your car and turn the heater all the way up, the wipers on the fastest setting, as you pull out into the storm. You start in the usual haunts and drive slowly up and down the streets looking for a familiar mop of curls, and a worn brown coat. 

It’s been two hours, and you begin to turn towards home, your heart heavy thinking about your friend alone in this storm, hoping he found someone to hunker down with. You pull up to your street and park your car, taking a few minutes to sit there. Movement from the corner of your eye draws your attention and you look across the street, your mouth dropping open slowly. 

Sitting on a bus bench barely covered from the elements is a familiar mop of curls, and a brown coat. You move so fast you catch your jacket on the door of your car. Shouting in frustration, you quickly free yourself  before running across the street. 

“Llewyn?!” You yell into the wind. 

His head snaps up and you can see him shivering as he slowly rises to his feet. “Y/N,” his voice is shaking. “I-I d-d-didn’t...didn't have a-a-anywhere else to g-g-go.” 

You let out a quick sob before pulling him close to you. “Oh, you sweet man, I have been worried sick about you. I’ve been driving around for hours looking for you!” 

“I just g-g-got here about tw-tw-twenty minutes ago, I-I-I wanted to see if the c-c-couch was a-a-valiable?” 

“Yes, yes of course, oh, honey we need to get you warm.” You grab his hand in your own gloved ones and pull him towards the apartment. He moves slow, his body so cold and stiff from the rain. 

You pull him straight back to the small bathroom; help him stand in the shower. He moves to protest but you shush him with a look helping him remove his clothes. “Y/N…. I-I-I c-can do it,” he protests weakly. 

“Llewyn! You can barely stand up, just drink a cup of humble tea and let me do this ok? If it means that much to you, I can close my eyes?” you squeeze shut your eyes before resuming your task. 

Your fingers move quickly to pull his jacket from his body, turning and placing it in the sink. Your fingers move back to his shirt and you undo each button, before unbuttoning his wrist cuffs, and pulling the shirt from his body, you run your hands down his arms and lift them slowly before reaching for the shirt pulling it off him and placing the drenched clothes aside. Your breath comes out shallow and you tentatively reach out for his pants before you find the button, slipping it through the hole and lowering the zipper before sliding them down his toned legs. 

“I-I can do the r-r-rest,” Llewyn stutters, and this time, you both know it's not from the cold. 

You nod slowly before turning away towards the door and reaching out so you don’t run into anything, your eyes still closed. “Wait,” Llewyn whispers behind you, “S-s-stay.” 

“Llewyn,” you let out a soft sigh when you feel his hand slowly wrap around your upper arm. He turns you slowly and you still don’t open your eyes. You know, if you do, there will be no going back. 

“Tell me n-no and we can forget this ever happened,” he whispers. You don’t say a word. “...Y/N. Look at me, baby.” He reaches up and cups your cheek with the same tenderness he shows his guitar. 

Your eyes slowly open and you feel your breath catch in your throat; he’s so beautiful. Those dark curls are falling down over his forehead from the rain, your heart pounds loudly in your ears and when you look into the depths of his brown eyes, you honestly believe it’s skipped a beat. 

He slowly leans towards you and you meet him the rest of the way. Time stops when his lips connect with yours but the flutter of your heart only intensifies. Your knees begin to shake and his hold on you tightens. You can only focus on the feel of him, the softness of his lips, slightly smoky from his cigarettes. His mouth doesn’t leave yours as he slowly begins to strip you out of your clothes. 

His calloused hands run across the bare skin of your stomach as he pulls your shirt open, and over your shoulders. His fingers deftly move over the button of your pants before he tugs them down your legs. Moving his lips down your neck and across your collarbone. You arch into him when his hands move back to unsnap your bra. He slowly pulls the material away before tossing it to the floor. His eyes rise to meet your own and your lips open in a soft sigh before he returns his attention  to your chest, latching on to one of the exposed nubs. He flicks his tongue over your breasts, before biting gently, the stubble from his beard grazing gently, making you shiver. 

You let out a groan and you can feel his lips turn up into a smile. He moves lower and your hands come around to push through his hair, your nails lightly scratching against his scalp. He looks up at you again, his hands hovering over the lace edge of your panties, a question in his eyes. You nod and he slowly lowers them to the floor raising each of your feet gently before tossing them with the rest of your discarded clothes. On his knees, he leans back and just gazes at you.

You feel yourself blush under his eyes and move to cover yourself, when his hands come to stop you- “You’re so perfect baby, please...please don’t hide from me.” He rises slowly from the floor, pulling you tight against his chest, and you can feel every ridge and curve of his body against your own. The only clothes separating you are his boxers and he quickly discards them before moving towards the shower turning on the water. It only takes a moment before the steam begins to rise, and he’s pulling you back towards the hot rush of the shower. 

When you're both inside,  under the warm flow of the water, his mouth fuses back to your own and he caresses you with the skill of a sculptor creating a work of art. When you break apart for air, you reach around him and palm the bar of soap, gently rubbing it into his skin, watching the dirt and grime swirl down the drain. His eyes close as you run your fingers over the muscles on his stomach and over his thighs before giving special attention to his cock. He’s thick and warm in your hands. Llewyn's eyes close and his head falls back; he bites his lip, stifling a groan. 

You love seeing him come undone for you. You lower yourself to the floor of the tub and when his head comes back up he makes eye contact with you as you slip the crown of his cock  into your mouth. “Fuck,” he groans never taking his eyes off you. You start slow licking up the base of his cock, swirling your tongue around the head. You can feel him pulse inside your mouth and you breathe through your nose before taking him all the way back into your throat. The sounds he makes should be illegal as he groans above you, slowly lacing his fingers through your hair and tugging lightly. You let him guide you slowly as he fucks himself into your mouth, your other hand gently massaging his balls.

When he feels himself getting close to the edge he pulls you off with a pop and urges you to your feet. Pushing your back into the cold tile of the shower, he groans, I need to be inside you, please baby…,” before kissing you again. You nod and he reaches down to swirl his finger around your clit. A tiny sigh escapes you at finally feeling some relief. His hand moves lower and slowly drags through your drenched folds. “Fuck baby, you’re so wet. Is this... is this for me?” 

You can only nod through the sensations he’s bringing out in you, before you gasp when he shoves two fingers to the knuckle inside you before withdrawing and slowly pushing in again. You want to scream at the slow pace before his other hand comes back up to your clit and rubs slowly. Your orgasm hits you without warning, a crescendo of sensation, and you feel yourself cum all over his fingers. Llewyn never stops, drawing out your climax. 

He gently withdraws his fingers before putting them into his mouth, sucking on them slowly. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him, burning the erotic image of him sucking off your juices from his fingers into your long term memory. “Fuck, baby you taste so good,” he whispers before kissing you again. You can taste the tang of yourself on his tongue;  it only proceeds to make you wetter. 

“I want to bury my face in that beautiful pussy and make you sing so bad, but if I don’t get inside you now, I am going to explode.” His voice is hot against your throat and you groan at the dirty words. 

“Then take me Llewyn, fuck me please,” you beg. 

He only nods before he lifts your left leg up slightly to wrap around his waist, lining up his cock at your entrance. “Are you sure?” he asks. When you nod frantically, he adds, softly, “I’m going to need you to use your words, baby.” 

“Fuck, yes Llewyn Davis, please, fuck m-” the words are cut off as he pushes inside you. Once he’s all the way seated, you both still. You're lost in the delicious way he fills you so completely. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, “you’re so tight, you take me so perfectly.” He waits a moment more before he slowly thrusts forward. You both let out matching groans before he begins to pick up the pace. He fucks up into you in sharp, deep thrusts and you feel the familiar burning low in your stomach before you’re screaming his name. 

“That’s it baby; cum on my cock, I’ve got you.” He doesn’t let up one bit as you cum and he continues to pulse inside you. With a few more thrusts he’s close, and his hurried voice is deep in your ear, “where? Where do I-?” his breath comes in ragged pants. 

“Inside,” you gasp out, “cum inside me Llewyn - I want to feel you, all of you.” Your words are his undoing and in a few short thrusts you can feel him pulse inside you, painting your walls with his cum. 

You savor the closeness of your bodies as he softens inside you. The water in the shower begins to run cold and Llewyn frantically turns off the water. His forehead comes to rest on your own. “That was...fucking amazing,” he whispers, before looking into your eyes. 

“Yeah, it was...Llewyn...I don’t think we can be just friends anymore.” 

He slowly lowers your leg before he slips out of you, and you can’t help but want him back. You love the way he fills you so perfectly. Llewyn reaches for the soft towel on the rack, stepping out and wrapping it low on his waist. Reaching out for your hand before he wraps a second towel around you. He helps you from the tub and just holds you close. 

“Y/N,” he sighs, “I don’t have anything to give you, I’m homeless, I play at shit gigs and sell songs for scraps, and, according to Jean I’m nothing but shit.” 

“She’s such a bitch,” you huff under your breath, but he hears you, and laughs, resting his forehead against yours.

“Yeah, sometimes she can be, but that’s beside the point. I have nothing to bring to this relationship-” 

“Llewyn-” 

“Let me finish,” he cuts you off, “please.” You nod, reluctantly. “I am nothing, but...but when I’m with you I never feel that way. You make me feel seen. Valued. You bring out the best in me and you never, never give up on me even when I want to give up on myself. So...if you are willing to put up with an asshole, homeless, folk singer as a boyfriend then... I wanna be here for you.” 

“Can I talk now?” you ask and he nods. “Look at me Llewyn,” you drag his head up to meet your eyes, “You are an amazing man that deserves to be loved so completely. You are so thoughtful and caring. You're not an asshole. Remember when Jim was sick and you helped take care of him while Jean worked, or the time you lost the Gorfeins cat? And you have a home Llewyn, if you would only open your eyes and look.” His eyes turn glassy and you struggle not to cry. “Will you stay here with me Llewyn? Long after the rain has ended?” 

He takes a few moments before answering, closing his eyes, and opening them slowly, you could get lost in those deep brown eyes. “Until long after the rain has ended baby.” 

 Day 14- The Test Results - Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia 

[blueluneacy]

May i request a fic with dio and his female s/o doing the u know what 😳 but it's the s/o's first time and shes all shy and innocent? Dio tries to be gentle but he just cant control himself and just starts going ham and all out because it just feels too good 😔

Aw yeah, this was fun to write, I hope you enjoy it as much as I want. I keep making Dio soft, I’m so sorry but I’m not going to stop.

It’s a Dio/Reader nsfw! I chose phantom blood Dio bc I feel like he’s less… tempered that Stardust Dio? Idk, you really master the art of patience after 100 years underwater.

Warnings are: biting/minor bloodplay, not sfw, minor dub con??? he didnt really ask permission to rough it up but the reader is like ayyyy so

“A-Am I supposed to feel like this? Am I doing it right?” You asked Dio, looking up at him with a flushed face and wide eyes. When your revealed that you had never done this sort of thing with anyone before, your lover was more than happy to make sure you were thoroughly prepared for him. You were a little nervous about how exactly it was feel, but as soon as Dio’s fingers started to toy with your insides and his lips wrapped around the peak of your chest, most of those nerves left you.

You had been with Dio for a while now, though your arrival at the vampire lord’s lair not exactly willing. Originally brought to Dio as food, he had grown fond of you, and you of him. That chain of events is what led you to this moment now, with you underneath Dio as he got you ready to take him. He seemed amused by your nervousness. You were shy, turning away

“You’re doing perfect, love. You seem to be enjoying yourself, hm?” Dio teased. You huffed slightly, looking over at him. He was just too perfect, those long blonde locks framing those sharp red eyes and hard cheekbones. He was definitely easy on the eyes. You whimpered as you watched him lick his lips and he slowly pulled his hand out from inside of you, watching you shudder as you became irritatingly empty. 

“Hmm, I would think you’re ready. Don’t you agree, dear?” Dio asked, giving his fingers a long lick that just made you whimper as you squeezed your legs together. Dio just smiled, moving his defiled fingers to prod at your mouth.

“Go on. Taste how needy you are.” He told you, and you just opened your mouth, sucking on Dio’s fingers gently. Perhaps you didn’t realize how sexual that might come across, but Dio certainly figured it out. When you finally let go of his fingers, almost immediately Dio was working to free his cock. You had really gotten him going, it seemed. You moved to look over to try and catch a glance of what Dio was doing, only to find he was a lot… Bigger than you expected. You swallowed and leaned back, looking up at Dio as he climbed on top of you, lining up.

“Are you ready, love?” He asked, and you just nodded, a small smile on your face. There was no reason to be afraid, after all. If this felt anything like what Dio was doing before, you were here for it, and he was always so gentle with you, making sure you were comfortable. 

Dio smiled at your gesture, pushing in slowly, groaning as he did. God, you felt so much better than he was prepared for, it took all of his willpower not to pound into you like a toy that second. He couldn’t use you like that, not his precious (y/n)! You deserved to get used to it on your first time. You whined at the sensation, grabbing onto Dio as if he were your last lifeline.

“D-Dio… Goodness… It’s so…” You were at a loss for words on how to describe how you felt. It was so overwhelming and wonderful all while it stung, your body helplessly trying to accomodate for Dio’s size. When Dio started to rock his hips inside of you, you seemed to finally figure out the word for the feeling, this all encompassing pleasure that had taken hold in your body.

“It’s so heavenly.” You whined out, and with that, something seemed to… Snap in Dio. The way your body clamped onto him, the quiet gasps as he moved inside of you, the way your words not only shook, but praised him, it all made Dio want more. He growled and snapped his hips forward, leaving you to whine, both confused and pleasantly shocked by the change of pace. 

Dio grabbed onto your wrists and pinned them above your head, moving to fuck you at a ruthlessly hard pace, something no human could ever be capable of. You cried out at the sudden roughness, feeling it morph into undeniable pleasure. Dio just buried his face in your neck, biting down hard and drinking from you all the while. 

“D-Dio, I-I, pleeease…” You were able to get out in a broken moan. Your brain felt so fuzzy, both from the lack of blood and wondrous feeling of Dio pounding inside of you. He pulled away from your neck, growling like an animal in heat.

“You like that? You like when I fuck you like this? Fuck, of course you do. You’re mine, all mine. Mine!” He snapped his hips especially rough at the last word, and you moaned out loudly, your nails digging into Dio’s back.

“Y-Yes, all yours Dio! P-Please, it feels so good, pleeeease!” You moaned, rolling your head to the side submissively, trying to give Dio as much access to your neck as possible. He groaned at the sight of your submission, happily accepting the offer to lap up the blood still coming from his bite mark. Still, you felt like you were coming to an end, the pleasure building was just too intense for you to bear, your body twitching slightly as Dio fucked you. Dio could easily tell how close you were by how your squeezed on him, trying to take him for all he was worth.

“Fuck, you’re close, huh? Do you want to cum for me? Want to cum for me like a good girl?” He asked, and you moaned in return, nodding over and over and just begging Dio not to stop, tears starting to roll down your cheeks.

“Then cum, do it. Cum for me, cum for me, fuck-!” Dio ordered, burying his face in your neck as euphoria washed over you. Dio’s thrusted got sloppy as he chased his own end, finally cumming inside of you with a loud groan, helping you ride out your orgasm until the both of you finally settled down. 

Dio finally pulled out and sat up, looking over you and just… Going pale. There you were, bleeding from a bite mark on the neck, panting and still twitching from the intense orgasm he gave you. And he promised you he was going to be gentle. Whoops. 

“I… My dear, I’m so sorry, I seemed to have gotten carried away…” He apologized with such big sad eyes that you couldn’t help but laugh. Who knew the great Lord Dio could be so cute in times like this.

“‘S’alright… It felt really good…” You told him, sitting up the best you could to give him a kiss. You could still taste your blood on his lips, but you didn’t really care much. Dio huffed as he pulled away, pouting a bit.

“Well, alright. But I promise, I’ll try to be more gentle in the future. Now let’s get you cleaned up.” Dio said, standing up, but you grabbed his hand, trying to tug him back.

“Can we… Just cuddle for a bit first?” You asked, and the red crossing Dio’s face was a new delight you swore you’d have to see more often. He sighed, laying back down with you and wrapping his arms around you.

“Well… Just for a bit, then.” He sighed, and you smiled, closing your eyes and snuggling up against him. You felt yourself drift away slightly as he started to play with your hair. Dio watched the way your breathed, how you pressed up against him. He thought about how kind and sweet you were to him, even trusting him enough and not hating him after, in his opinion, he broke your trust by not being gentle with someone as fragile as you. It made his heart pound just a little quicker. He pulled you closer, as if the closer you were to him, the easier it would be to protect you from realizing the monster that he was.

Just for a moment, Dio felt as he might truly love someone.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Shaw’s Qixi Event (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Shaw’s Qixi Collection: Date / Call 1 / Call 2 / Event ♡ / Special Call

[ Chapter One ]

On the day of Qixi, I return home early to discover that Shaw isn’t around.

MC: Shaw? 

I take a look in the study room and the garden - places he usually goes to - but still can’t find a single trace of him.

Just when I consider whether or not to head outside to look for him, “pa da” - an empty shell of a water chestnut falls near my feet. 

MC: Eh, where did this water chestnut come from...

Shaw: Where are you looking? Raise your head.

A voice sounds from above me. I follow the voice and lift my head, realising that there seems to be something being thrown towards me from the tree.

I hurriedly take a step back, steadily catching it -- it’s another water chestnut. 

With his legs crossed, Shaw sits on the treetop, holding onto a big water chestnut. He’s currently peeling it leisurely. 

Shaw: Come up. It’s not fun to peel them on my own. 

MC: It’s such a tall tree. How am I supposed to go up?

Shaw: There’s a ladder over there. Hurry.

I can’t defy him, so I have no choice but to shift the ladder over, leaning it against the tree trunk and making my way towards him. 

When I’m left with the final two rungs, Shaw seems to be impatient at how careful I’m being. He leans forward and pulls me over.

MC: Ah...!

My exclamation is blocked by a lotus seed.

Shaw: What are you exclaiming for? The treetop is very spacious, so you won’t fall. Even if you fall, I’m here. 

MC: You always have so many reasons...

I mutter softly, biting the lotus seed open. 

The white jade flesh wraps the heart of the lotus seed, and both the sweet and bitter flavours entwine between my teeth. 

MC: Delicious! Where did you get these from? 

Shaw: The aunt from next door gave them to me. I ate half, and left the rest for you. 

As he speaks, he hands me another fresh lotus seed, which still has a few droplets of dew on it.

I mimic his actions and sit on the tree. My line of sight goes beyond the wall of the courtyard, and I happen to have a view of the Qixi fair, which is still being decorated.

Layers of trees separate us from the clamour of firecrackers, which are neither near nor far. 

The shower of rain has left behind dampness and an astringent flavour. Along with the sweet scent of red lotus plants, they exude the breath of late autumn. 

-

[ Chapter Two ] 

Shaw: What are you doing? Pounding medicine in a mortar? 

MC: I’m making nail polish. 

I tilt the small, handleless cup in Shaw’s direction. Inside, there are bright red petals. 

MC: Aren’t we participating in the Qixi evening fair later on? I want to dress up properly.

I suddenly harbour some playful thoughts, and laugh at him.

MC: Want to paint your nails too? 

Shaw: Tch, of course not. 

Despite what he says, he sits beside me, watching as I pound the petals with a pestle. 

When I’ve finished pounding the petals and am about to begin, Shaw suddenly takes the small cup away from me. 

Shaw: I’ll paint them for you.

MC: Eh? 

Shaw: I’ve never played with this before, so I want to try. 

MC: This isn’t something meant to be played with...

Even though I say this, I still hold out my hand.

Shaw’s hand is much larger than mine. When he hooks onto my fingers, my fingertips rest on his joints.

His palm is cold, but it transmits a heat belonging to summer. 

It even seems to dye my breathing with an odd warmth.. 

MC: Are... are you sure you can handle it? If you paint them badly, I’ll get even with you...

Shaw: Tch, don’t move around. 

Although he had an amused tone earlier, Shaw has an incredibly focused expression on his face now. 

His brows are slightly furrowed, as though he is carving a rare piece of art. 

My smooth and round fingernails are gradually coated with tiny bits of petals. Shaw’s hands are extremely steady, and not once does he let the sap of the flowers flow outside the nails.

Shaw: What’s next?

MC: Use the damp cloths at the side to wrap the fingers, hold them together with a thin string, then wait for them to dry. 

Shaw follows what I say. Not long after, every one of my fingers are wrapped with a layer of damp cloth. 

He sizes up the results several times, then suddenly laughs.

MC: What are you laughing at? 

Shaw: I'm laughing at how you look right now, because it makes me think of...

Because he painted my nails, he’s now extremely close to me. I can see my own reflection in his dazzling gold eyes, and a mischievous glint. 

Shaw: Dumplings. 

-

The lights shine in the night, reminiscent of an upside-down starry sky.

The temple festival in this small town is unlike the big city. There aren’t many people, but it is sufficiently lively. 

Shaw and I are taking a stroll. Occasionally, we bump into familiar faces from the neighbourhood and greet them. 

In order to attract customers, stall vendors have specially introduced “gambling” activities, and the profits from a successful gamble are clay figurines and wooden puppets. 

My interest is piqued, so I move closer to play two rounds with the vendor, and end up losing.

MC: I’m not playing anymore. The money I lost was enough to buy a small clay figurine. Let’s walk around elsewhere. 

After taking a few steps, Shaw pulls me back.

MC: What’s wrong? 

Shaw: Let me play. 

Shaw stands in front of the stall. The first thing he does is to size up the various clay figurines on sale.

Shaw: Which one did you want just now? Was it that rabbit? 

MC: Mm.

Vendor: Would you like to play too? The original price remains the same. If you buy it, it’d be ten copper pieces. If you gamble, the prize will be halved - only five copper pieces. But you have to guess if the dice is big or small. 

 [Trivia] This gamble is an ancient Chinese game of chance called sic bo (”precious dice”), which involves three dice. Players bet on the outcome of the dice roll - ‘big’ or ‘small’. The outcome is ‘small’ when the total number featured on the three dice is 10 or less, while ‘big’ is when the total number is more than 10.

Shaw: Sure, I’ll take a guess then. 

Vendor: Great!

After collecting the money, the vendor is about to shake the dice cup when Shaw suddenly grabs his hand. 

Shaw: Use your other hand to shake it. 

Vendor: You--

Shaw: Or I could tell everybody about the magnet hidden in your palm?

The vendor’s face turns red, and he angrily uses the other hand to shake the dice cup. Before he can open his mouth, Shaw answers resolutely.

Shaw: Small. Open it. 

The dice cup is lifted - it’s small. 

My wish is fulfilled as I receive the clay figurine. After leaving the stall, I remain curious about what happened earlier, and can’t help but ask.

MC: How did you know the dice would be small? Is there a trick to it? 

Shaw: There’s a trick, but... mm, I’m not telling you.

-

[ Chapter Three ]

Vendor: Lady, would you like to release wishing river lanterns? We have carp lanterns, lotus lanterns, peach lanterns... If you release a peach lantern, it will usher in a fate which brings lovers together!

MC: I’ll just buy the carp lantern.

Vendor: All right! Are you going to write your wish on the lantern and release it here? 

MC: No, I'm giving it to someone. 

I scan the crowd, then raise the lantern and wave my hand to someone across the street.

MC: I’ve bought it!

On the opposite side of the street, a little girl exclaims happily and takes the little carp lantern from my hand. 

Girl: Thank you, big sister!

MC: Be more careful next time, and don’t let break it again.

Girl: Mm!

I watch the girl run off towards her friends. Shaw, who wasn’t around when I purchased the lantern, suddenly re-appears from behind me. 

Shaw: You only bought one for her, but not for yourself? 

MC: I don’t need it. Being able to fulfil someone else’s wishes is already my Qixi wish. Where were you just now? 

Shaw: I went to release a lantern. 

MC: Eh? Where?

Shaw: Over there. 

Right after he finishes, an exclamation sounds from behind me. After that, I see everyone surging to the side of the river. 

Woman: Hurry up and look! Is that... a river lantern? 

Man: What a large river lantern! 

Curious, I turn around in response to the voices, and see a gigantic colourful boat, half the size of a person, floating along with the river currents. 

The candlelight on the colourful boat flickers. The decorative patterns on the boat feature, in meticulous detail, lifelike images of people.

But why does the young woman on the boat... resemble me? And that young man...

I am suddenly aware of something, and my heart rate speeds up abruptly. When I open my mouth to speak, I almost bite my tongue. 

MC: S-s-s-haw! This is your river lantern?!

Shaw: That’s right. 

MC: Why did you release such a huge river lantern? 

Shaw: I wanted to, so I did it. There’s no particular reason. If I really have to say...

Shaw: My wish is a great one, so I need it to be that big.