#I have close to no idea who follows their tag and who doesn't

[finnlongman]

An unexpected side effect of briefly allowing my professional mask to slip and sharing my feelings about writing YA without romance etc has been the number of people who have shared in the tags that they read and enjoyed my books. People who don't follow me, who'd never posted about it, whom I had no idea existed. They were there all along and I didn't know.

By that I don't mean to suggest that they should have followed me or posted about it. Just that it is so easy, as an author, to focus on the criticism and negativity and disappointment that you receive (or the lack of positive hype/reviews/posts) when, out of sight, there are dozens of people who felt seen by your book, and never said so out loud. Just because you don't see them doesn't mean they're not there. Which made me realise, also, that there are dozens of books that have spoken to me that I've never posted about, and those authors also have no idea that their work meant something to me.

There are many authors whose books I enjoy whom I will deliberately never follow or interact with on social media because I don't want to have that kind of relationship with them. That's fine and often healthy. But we don't live in a world where authors are receiving zero feedback from readers, and very often, it's the people who didn't like it who will go out of their way to tell people that, while the ones who did keep their cards close to their chest. And that kinda sucks all round.

So, to readers: if there's a book that you like, and that made you feel seen -- any book, I mean, not necessarily mine, this isn't a self-promo post -- consider leaving a review somewhere that says that, or posting it on social media, or, if the option's there and it feels comfortable and appropriate, telling the author. You don't have to stick around, or follow them, or become their greatest cheerleader -- but a one-line message or review saying their book meant something to you might be exactly what they needed to get through the week. Because there's a strong chance that they have no idea.

[neverendingford]

.

[prettyboykatsuki]

cause we're, y'know | k. bakugou

✮ tags ; gender neutral reader, fluff, post relationship jitters, bakugou being down bad a little bit, friends to lovers. not 18+ but minors do Not follow me.

✮ wc ; 1k

✮ a/n ; a comm for @euthymiya who gave me free reign to do whatever which i used to write corny bkg fluff... thank u for commissioning me most beloved riv <3

✮ synopsis ; bringing his friend turned lover a lunchbox is normal, alright? plenty fucking normal.

Bakugou taps his fingers along the edge of the bench he's been sitting on since evening - beating to an unsteady rhythm.

He can Sero's voice in the back his hand as he squeezes the wrapped bento a little closer to his torso. The shitty, sing-song teasing lilt when you and Bakugou were less then lovers but more then friends.

And now you're lovers proper, as fucking corny as he finds it. But maybe he's not finding it corny enough because he's sitting in the lobby of your office building with a bento he made by hand. There's some chatter from strangers coming in and out of your office building - the occasional ding of elevators, the passing whistle of a janitor.

The awful, loud, no good thump of his heartbeat ricocheting against his rib cage as he goes back and forth on whether or not this shit was a good idea.

He's... fucking nervous. Which is total bullshit because he doesn't have anything to be nervous about. It's not like this is the first time you and Bakugou have ever met up to eat lunch. It was just that before, he was coming to meet you as a friend.

Some part of him is thinking, so what if he's your boyfriend? Who gives a shit, anyway?

Another part of him feels so mixed about the ordeal he sort of wants to puke.

His phone buzzes from the pocket of his pants and he grabs it - your phone and contact flashing across his screen

(sent 11:12am) coming down :]

Bakugou smiles to himself, at the stupid emoticon. He thinks about just liking your reply but before he gets the chance another text follows through.

(sent 11:12am) missed you <3

He blushes almost furiously. Partially over the text but mostly from his internal reaction. Stupid. This whole thing is so stupid. He types fast.

(sent 11:14am) hurry your ass up.

That's all he can manage to say without feeling like his chest is going to collapse in on itself. He waits another minute before he hears the elevator doors ding again - a crowd of people dispersing as the doors open. He looks for you among them.

He finds you after a minute, hand waving overhead of the sea of people. He huffs, amused at how rapidly you wave your hand, and thinks about texting you again but you're close enough that he doesn't bother.

You march towards him with a renewed vigor after you aren't lost to the sea of strangers. Bakugou snorts as you hurry your way over to him, almost seeming out of breath - like you ran to see him.

"Hey,"

"Hi!" You say, chipper as always. "You're here."

"No shit."

You laugh. He's heard it before. A hundred times, a thousand maybe. It still sounds weirdly different to him.

"Did you have anywhere in mind to eat?" You ask.

Horror dawns on him at the realization you still didn't realize what's in his hand. "I'm up for anything I think. Feeling adventurous."

Your eyes are sparkling when you ask. Bakugou freezes, blue screening momentarily before taking a breath.

He holds the boxed bento out to you sheepishly, a hand scratching the back of his neck. This is way more embarrassing then he thought it'd be.

"Fuck. Whatever. Look," He says, shaking the upset off of him with a frown. " He doesn't look up at you, doesn't even want to know what he might see. Something bright enough to fucking blind him, he's sure. "Don't say shit or I'm never making you one again."

You blink owlishly before letting your eyes flicker down again at what it's in front you. There's a beat of silence between you before Bakugou sees a grin slowly creep it's way up to your face in a way that makes his chest feel tight.

You take the wrapped bento from him, assessing the weight of it in your hand as you give it a good look. You hold it up to admire it and Bakugou feels the blush crawl further down his neck.

"Stop acting like I just handed you a diamond or some shit," Bakugou says lamely, even by his own standards. Your lips form into affectionate pout.

"You made me a bento." Your lower lip trembles all too sudden and Bakugou's eyes go wide. "I love you,"

?!

Bakugou looks at you, mouth agape. You're completely serious. Nevermind the inappropriate timing or the fact this is the first time you've expressed yourself with a word so serious. He's more concerned about the almost tears at your eyes. He pulls his sleeves over his hands to wipe them from your eyes.

"Dumbass, what are you crying about? You're still in the office, get it together."

"But I love you," You say, more whine then coherent word. Bakugou feels a headache coming on.

"Yeah I got that. Am I really such a shithead me bringing you lunch is worth sobbing over?"

"You made it for me."

"Cause I ain't no punk. Anyone can pay for you you but we're," He stops himself mid way, too embarrassed to get the rest out. "Anyways whatever. It's just lunch. I just... fuckin' realized I never made it for you. Dinner and shit is one thing but we're,"

"Dating," You finish before he can. He falls victim to more blushing.

"Yeah. Whatever. This much is pretty standard, at least." He wipes another tear off your face. It's funny. Anyone else pulled some shit like this and he'd rolls his eyes. "Stop cryin' already."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't gotta say sorry either."

"But,"

"No buts. Hurry and wipe your tears before your breaks over so you don't go all puffy eyed back in the office."

You laugh through a sniffle. "They'll think my boyfriend was being mean to me, huh?"

He snorts, voice full of playful sarcasm. "Yeah exactly. I've got a great reputation to uphold and all."

"Katsuki," You say gently. He gives you a look.

"Hm?"

You lean forward, craning up just slightly to press your lips to his. Your third kiss, now. Not that he's been counting.

"Thank you and," You pull back mischievously, brows furrowing. "Revenge."

He's in so deep. Fuck.

"You're such an idiot." He says, fighting off his own feelings.

"You love me,"

Maybe he's an idiot too.

"Yeah." He says, flicking your forehead and watching you beam. "Unfortunately."

[cryolyst]

~

[sanguineterrain]

falling behind | spencer reid

Summary: During a movie night with Spencer, he confesses to you that he feels like he's falling behind, having never kissed anyone. You offer to catch him up.

(based on laufey's falling behind)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bff!reader 

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings/tags: spencer's first kiss, s1/s2 spencer, best friend reader, kissing, mentions of sex, some angst at the end.

the divider

"I think you need another bookshelf, Doc," you say, narrowly dodging a stack of books that comes up to your hip. 

You��ve let yourself in for your traditional movie night that’s become far and few ever since Spencer started at the FBI. His days off are rare, but they’re always spent with you. You hang your coat and scarf over Spencer’s designated hook for you. Spencer’s putting about in the kitchen, cups clinking.

"I've been trying to find one at a flea market," Spencer says from the kitchen.

"Even though flea markets give you the heebie jeebies?" you call back, flipping through a thick hardcover about ancient Rome. Aaaand that's a naked man. You close the book. Spencer’s the mature one out of the two of you. That’s why he’s got books about Rome and you don’t. 

"I'm not crazy about bringing home furniture that was once in someone else's house, though it’s usually very cheap. Still! They could’ve had termites. And that’s a best-case scenario. You won’t believe what some people have in their houses.”

“Oh, I know. Pet dandruff. Mold spores. Your worst nightmare.”

Spencer appears with two mugs of Ovaltine. He's adorably cozy, cocooned in an oversized Caltech sweatshirt and green slacks with the giant cargo pockets he loves. They're so practical!

“There’s no need for sarcasm,” he says, mouth pursed the way it does when you’re being a smartass.

“There’s always a need,” you say cheerfully. 

He's wearing the Doctor Who socks you got him three years ago for his birthday. They're worn a little thin. You've offered to buy him new ones—Spencer insists these are still good.

“So how’s life in our nation’s capital?” you ask. “Besides all the serial killers.”

"Good. I still haven't gotten used to these D.C. winters but I feel a lot less silly making hot Ovaltine when it's not sixty-five degrees outside," he says, bending to set your mug down.

Instinctively, you pull out two coasters and Spencer puts your mug on one and cradles his own. He sits on the overstuffed couch he took from his mother's house. You'd helped him take it. You’d followed him out here, actually, after his second PhD, and you live just outside of D.C. because you’re not a big-shot FBI profiler. You’d split the cost of the U-Haul from California and stayed with him the first night because Spencer can’t sleep in unfamiliar darkness. 

It had been four years since you’d seen each other. You’d shared a bottle of cheap wine to celebrate his new job at the BAU. Later, Spencer cried over Diana and you held him through it. 

"Turning the heat on might help," you say.

"That's simply a luxury the FBI doesn't pay me for. Anyway, thermostats increase the chances of a fire. Especially if the pipes are old."

"We should ask your friend Penelope to hack a bank so you can buy a mansion," you say.

Spencer shakes his head and brings the mug to his lips. "Please don't give her any ideas. Are we starting the movies?"

"Yes! Home Alone?”

“Don’t we always start with your favorite?” he asks, smiling.

“We do. You indulge me, Spencestar.”

You get up to fiddle with Spencer’s ancient TV and DVD player. It takes a couple of strategic smacks to get it running, but you do and you put the DVD in. It’s a tradition, your holiday movie marathons with Spencer. 

You get up and unfurl the giant fluffy gray blanket that Spencer keeps neatly folded on the sofa. You sit next to him and pull the blanket over the both of you, then take your Ovaltine into your hands. 

“You know, you could always invite your new friends at the FBI for movie nights,” you say. “I’d be okay with that. As long as they understand that I'm your oldest and bestest friend and therefore take precedence.”

"As if I need you telling them embarrassing stories about me,” Spencer says, looking at you flatly. “I know your motivations. It’s bad enough that Derek calls me the baby bird of the bullpen."

“Derek is the one that set you up on a date?” 

“Ugh.” Spencer covers his face. “Please don’t remind me.”

It had only been a month ago, Spencer’s date with the sister of one of Derek’s friends. She’d been nice enough, according to Spencer, but you’d sensed more had happened he didn’t want to dive into. There was likely an underlying judgment that Spencer’s encountered too many times to not be sensitive to. 

But Spencer always got nervous about these things too. He had a habit of psyching himself out. For a long time, the only woman he’d ever had a full conversation with was you. 

The TV screen freezes. You groan and get up, putting your mug down. 

“Try moving the antenna,” he says.

“Yeah. The FBI should give flat-screen TVs for Christmas bonuses.”

You play around with the antennas. When that doesn’t work, you turn off the TV. It’s not an exact science—whether the TV wants to play or not is up to forces out of your control. Spencer thinks you have the magic touch, though. 

“That date was pretty bad, wasn’t it?” you ask, checking the wires behind the TV. You wiggle them around and try plugging and unplugging stuff. 

“No,” Spencer says lightly, in that mild, polite tone that might work on a stranger but hasn’t worked on you since fifth grade.

“Spencer…”

“It wasn’t!” he says. “Honestly, it wasn’t even her, it was… I don’t know. I felt so silly doing it. Like I was a kid trying to do adult things.”

“You are an adult. Is it playing?”

“No. Yeah, I know I am, but I also feel so behind. Like everybody learned stuff I didn’t and now I can’t do a simple thing like go on a date with a woman.”

“You’re not behind—ouch!” The TV shocks you and you snatch your hand back, grimacing.

Spencer stands up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, thanks. Where was I? Right. You’re not behind, Spence, you’re the smartest person I know. You’re the smartest person most people know.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Then Spencer suddenly appears, kneeling next to you. You grin.

“Hi,” you say.

“Hi. You don’t have to get shocked so we can watch a movie. I can pull it up on my laptop.”

“No, I’m gonna make this work. Here, hold this.”

You hand Spencer a wire. He obediently holds it while you fiddle with the back of the TV.

“She tried to kiss me,” Spencer says quietly. 

You pause and look at him. “Who did?”

“The woman Derek set me up with.”

“Oh.” You put down the wire—you’re starting to get the feeling that this is the kind of conversation that can’t be had while you’re trying to fix a TV. “You didn’t tell me that. Did you?”

“No.” Spencer scowls. “I chickened out. I just… Derek would’ve told me to just kiss her because she was pretty and she wanted me. But I didn’t want to. And that’s so stupid, ‘cause I should’ve, right?”

“Spencer, there’s no rule for when you should and shouldn’t kiss someone as long as both parties want to kiss,” you say.

“Yeah, but I’ve never kissed anybody. I’m twenty-five and I’ve never kissed anyone. How pathetic is that?”

You frown and turn to face Spencer fully. “Hey. C’mon, where’s this coming from? You know I don’t think any less of you for never kissing or dating or any of that stuff. You do it when you wanna. And I’d tell anyone that. I’m not just telling you ‘cause you’re my best friend.”

“I know, but…” Spencer shakes his head and it hurts to see him so defeated. “I told that woman that I hadn’t kissed anyone and that’s why I didn’t kiss her. And the look she gave me was so… I-I’ve gotten that look before, but… and I could just tell she was thinking freak, freak!”

“Spencer,” you say, voice cracked like an egg, and his name is the soft yolk spilling out. “Oh, Spence. You’re not a freak. I told you that when we were fourteen and I still mean it. Nothing is wrong with you for never kissing anyone. And someone who thinks there is isn’t a person you want to be intimate with anyway.”

He sighs. “I just feel like I’m falling behind.”

You press your lips together. Then you make a decision and stand. 

“Come on,” you say, offering your hand.

Spencer takes your hand and lets you pull him up. “Where’re we going?”

“To the couch,” you say, more casual than you feel. 

Spencer follows you to the couch and you sit. You take a deep breath.

“Who would you want to have your first kiss with?” you ask.

He shrugs. “No one comes to mind.”

You bite your lip. “What about me?”

Spencer blinks. “I—what?”

Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with all of Spencer’s attention on you. It doesn’t normally overwhelm you but considering the circumstances… 

“Well, um. It would be low-pressure, right? I mean, we’ve known each other for so long.”

Spencer licks his lips. You track the movement, then look away, embarrassed.

“I guess so,” he says. “But won’t it be weird? Kissing each other?”

Yeah, probably. “No, I don’t think so. Well, a little, but it’s just so you don’t feel out of sorts when you go on a date. It’s, like, practice.” That last point feels a little weak.

“Practice,” Spencer repeats.

“Yeah.”

It’s still and silent for several painful moments, and that’s when you contemplate bolting and changing your address. But then Spencer speaks.

“Okay,” he says. “If you’re definitely sure about it.”

“I am,” you say. 

He nods. You take that as an invitation to scoot closer so you’re facing each other. Spencer brings one knee up so you can be within kissing distance.

“So, um.” You clear your throat. “So when you kiss someone, it’s important to find a place for your hands. They can be on their face or their waist or arms.”

Spencer nods. “Got it. Like this?”

He puts his hands on your waist. You stutter on your next breath. You hope Spencer doesn’t notice.

Look, you’re not blind, okay? Spencer’s tall and cute and smart and a sweetheart and your roommate in college once commented on how he’s got hands made to finger a woman, which you’ve never been able to forget, much as you’ve tried. 

So yeah. You know your best friend’s good looking. You know he’s a catch. 

Does that mean you can be absolutely emotionless while kissing him? Not so much. 

But you love Spencer. You’d do anything for him. 

“Yeah, good.” You drape your hands loosely around his neck, his curls tickling your fingers. “Okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then you make eye contact but not too much. Don’t scare them.”

Spencer smiles with half of his mouth. “Don’t scare them. Noted.”

You roll your eyes. “Smartass. Alright, then you, um…”

“Kiss?” he asks.

You nod. “Y-yeah. Then you lean in and kiss.”

You press your lips to Spencer’s lightly. His mouth is soft but he’s stiff, which means he’s going to kiss stiffly.

“Relax, Spencestar,” you say against his mouth. “‘S okay. Part your lips a little.”

“Like this?” he asks, his mouth losing some tension.

“Exactly. Fit your lips to mine.”

Spencer’s warm, his breath tickling your mouth. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat right up your throat and into Spencer. 

“I read about kissing,” he says. “For research.”

That makes you smile, a short laugh slipping out. You rest your forehead on his mouth by accident. 

“What?” he asks against your skin, smile clear in his voice. The sensation gives you shivers.

“Nothing. You’re sweet, Spence,” you say. 

You lift your head and close your eyes. And then you kiss him. 

Spencer kisses gently, which you never thought about in-depth, but experiencing it now, it makes sense that he does. He’s so gentle in everything else, from the way he opens doors to letting you have the last bite of pasta. Of course Spencer kisses the way he lives in the world: kindly. 

Your hands slip to his jaw to guide him. Your kisses are short first, to warm him up. You feel Spencer’s pulse in his neck under your palm, feel his easy hold on your hips, the way he twists a loose thread on your shirt.

“You can be a little more firm. Move your hands around,” you say, and Spencer nods.

He kisses you with a little more pressure, ever the quick learner. His hands travel up your spine and down, like he’s soothing you. It makes an unexpected sob work up your throat and you quickly swallow it down. 

You thread your hand through his hair, your senses completely surrounded by him. Spencer’s more confident now, pulling you into him slightly, curving your back with his palms. 

And before you do something really stupid, like kiss his neck or tell him you love him, you pull back. Spencer’s eyes fly open when yours do. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.

“No, no. You were good. That was good, Spencer. I just, uh… we’ve been kissing for a while, so I figured…”

“Oh.” His face turns pink. “Right, yeah.”

“Yeah.” You scratch your neck. “But that was good. It just takes practice.”

Spencer nods a lot. “Yes, of course. Like any skill.”

“Exactly.”

You drink your Ovaltine, needing to put your attention on anything but Spencer’s kiss-swollen lips. The Ovaltine is cold. You make a face.

“I’ll reheat it,” Spencer says, practically leaping from the couch. “Be right back.”

“I’ll try to get the movie started,” you say, making a beeline for the TV.

You turn it on, trying to calm your fluttering heart. This time, the movie plays with no issues. Of course when you want it to have issues so you don’t have to be curled up next to Spencer on the couch, it doesn’t. Figures. 

Hesitantly, you return to the couch. Spencer comes out a few minutes later with your reheated mugs. He gives you yours and sits on the far end of the couch.

“Want the blanket?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “I’m okay. I warmed up.”

The movie continues from where it froze. You and Spencer watch that one, then Home Alone 2, then the Muppets Christmas Carol. 

And it’s fine, it’s normal. It’s normal, except you’ve just kissed your best friend. And Spencer doesn’t curl up next to you under the blanket for the rest of the night. You get this sinking feeling, wondering if catching your best friend up comes at a bigger cost than you thought. 

[jasmines-library]

if your requests are closed you can just ignore this :) but im just imagining liek a batfam and younger teenage daughter where bruce gets a tattoo of her name or like symbol which is usually a big no but he got it where it's not as noticeable cause she mentioned once how he should and so when he showed her and all the other boys they immediately would pull all dramatics like oh he doesn't love me ph he picked favorites and in all reality he was planning on getting a tattoo for all of them and just did hers first to mess with them a bit

Fresh Ink

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Word count: 400

BATFAM MASTERLIST

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“What is that?" Damian scowled, noting the small inking peeking out of the hem of Bruce's shirt. The six of you were mingling in the kitchen, all gathered together for breakfast before you all scatter about for your own busy days.

Bruce followed Damian’s gaze, as did Tim and Dick. “It’s a tattoo.” Bruce hummed.

Damian practically rolled his eyes. “TT. I can see that. But since when did you get tattoos?”

“It’s recent.” Bruce answered.

Damian squinted at the tattoo. It was rather small, but– “Is that her name?!” Damian pointed a finger at you accusingly from across the room.

This time Dick inspected the tattoo. “It is.”

Damian gasped dramatically. “Favouritism!”

“It’s not favouritism –” Bruce started.

“It is.” Jason said from where he was leaning against the counter.

“No it isn’t–”

“Where’s our tattoo’s, bruce?” Tim leaned in. “Don’t you love us too?”

“He doesn’t love us anymore, Tim.” Dick said teasingly. “We’re not worthy of tattoos.”

“You may as well disown us.” Jason added “It’s clear they’re the favourite.”

You laughed softly, amused from the other side of the room. It is clear that your brothers are joking, amused by the situation. Well…maybe all of them except Damian who sat there slumped on his chair, his arms folded in front of him and his face drawn perfectly into a scowl. “It was my idea.” You said. “I told him he should get one. He asked me to design one for him.I didn't think he would actually get it.”

“Sure.” Jason elongated his words sarcastically. “That’s the excuse”

“It’s true.” Bruce backed you up.

“Doesn’t excuse the fact that you’re playing favourites” Dick teased.

“I’m not playing favourites.” Bruce said. “In fact, I was going to ask the four of you if you wanted one too. But since I apparently don’t care about you then…..”

“No. No.” Damian jumped in quickly. “You love us very much. We were joking.”

You smirked a little at Damian’s change in demeanour, clearly keen to get his own tattoo. Bruce noticed this too, and so did your other brothers, each watching Damian with an amused eye, but also interested themselves.

“I’ll go get a pen and paper.” Damian said, slipping from his stool. It squealed against the tiles as he dashed out of the room, his voice fading away as moved continuing his rambles. “I have some great ideas—“

Bruce smiled a little. But oh lord….what had he gotten himself into…..

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BATFAM TAGS:

@hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish @killxz @rosecentury

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[bluejeanstrash]

rule no. 1

summary: you have a no-contact rule going with your ex, choi seungcheol, but fortunately unfortunately for you, he’s not really the type to follow them.

tags: ex! seungcheol x reader, seungcheol’s kind of toxic and doesn’t know how to let go, tit sucking (both cheol and reader), piv sex, protected sex, then unprotected sex (stay safe out there), pet names (daddy, good girl), cheol is written based off EXACTLY how he looks in these pictures | wc: 2.7k

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8:11 PM

[choi seungcheol] hey

[you] what

[choi seungcheol] can we meet today?

[you] i don’t think that’s a good idea

[choi seungcheol] just to talk. nothing else. i swear.

[you] dude, what are you doing? you know we’re supposed to be going no contact. plus, it’s raining

[choi seungcheol] i’ll come to you

[choi seungcheol] and don't call me dude ever again or i'll seriously kill myself

[you] NO. do not come here. it’s late. let’s talk tomorrow okay?

11:17 PM

[choi seungcheol] i’m downstairs

[you] seungcheol..

[choi seungcheol] you want me to leave? i drove all this way though?

[you] fine.

[you] just talking.

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his shock red hair. that’s the first thing you notice after opening the door, followed by just how good he looks with it. stop.

seungcheol walks straight in, fishing his car keys out of his pocket and dropping them in that little bowl on your shoe cabinet. then he looks at you. no, he checks you out, his eyes slowly sliding up your body to see what you’re wearing.

god, he has no self control. you knew he’d do that, which is why you’d worn your frumpiest PJs. a clear visual indication that nothing was going to happen tonight.

‘just talking’ you reiterate, drawing an imaginary line on the floor with your foot.

seungcheol laughs, extending his arm, signaling you to walk ahead and lead the way. the thing is, he wants to check your ass out. though you may think this is your frumpiest pair, there’s something in the material which makes it cling to your cheeks, making them look extra juicy.

seungcheol follows behind you, maintaining the “line” until you pause abruptly and he takes a step too close. just like that, he’s already crossed it, and then, he’s already kissing you, already taking off his glasses, already tossing his beanie aside, already grabbing your ass, already carrying you to the bedroom.

‘t-this is a bad idea’ you stutter, trying to find some of that self-control you keep asking him to show.

‘i know. so bad’ he breathes into the curve of your neck, sucking on the skin hungrily until it breaks. ex-seungcheol was obsessed with leaving marks of himself on you — hickeys, bites, hand prints.

he stumbles into the bedroom, leaving the lights off, and sets you down on the edge of the bed. no, you can't be doing this again.

‘seungcheol, i really don’t think-’

‘shh, don’t say anything, just kiss me. look at me' he grabs your chin, angling your face up ‘kiss me’ he says like it’s just that simple. seungcheol snakes his long tongue into your mouth, kissing you, his hands busy unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down just enough to let his cock breathe. as you kiss, he lays you down on the bed, driving a knee in between your legs to spread them apart.

‘do you still like it when i do this?’ he asks, as if there’s any answer apart from fuck yes, and presses his knee to your core, grinding hard, sending pulses of pleasure straight through you. you answer with an involuntary moan, stifling it just in time so he doesn't hear.

you see, seungcheol doesn't need an answer from you. he can already guess from your erect nipples which are poking through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, asking to be sucked on. who's he to deny them that? so, he pushes your t-shirt up, above your tits, grabbing and pressing them together, and buries his face into the valley of your breasts.

‘fuck’ he inhales ‘missed this’

ex-seungcheol was all about missing you — missed your smell, missed this pussy, missed your pretty little mouth, missed you. you know seungcheol. you know once he latches onto your tits, he's not leaving till you both have finished. so, you make a last-ditch attempt.

‘you know that article i sent you?’ he cups a breast in each hand, rolling, teasing, and tugging your nipples in between his fingers.

‘it-’ god, that feels good ‘it says the best way for us to do this is to go no-contact. really’

‘yeah?' you nod, surprised he's even listening.

‘fuck that article’ and with that he takes you in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola before latching his soft lips onto your hard nipples. fine, just one last time then, you pacify yourself and let go. you sink into the feeling of your breasts being sucked on, while your fingers sink into his thick hair, tugging on tufts of red.

‘the red looks fucking hot, by the way’ your compliment sandwiched in between soft moans. seungcheol pulls off your breast, looking up at you, a sudden hunger in his eyes.

ex-seungcheol loves compliments. loves them. — compliment his face, his hair, his built, and definitely compliment his cock. he needs to be desired by his exes.

he leans back, ripping his overshirt and t-shirt off, his hair falling wildly over his face. seungcheol runs both his hands through his locks, slicking his hair back. ‘take your clothes off’ he’s got a little gruff in his voice ‘now’

you undress hastily, and it’s not until you see a cocky grin spread across his face, you realise what he’s noticed.

‘just talking, huh?’

you’re wearing those panties — the ‘pull aside pair’ as he called it. seungcheol loved these on you, it was his favourite because firstly, they just about covered your cunt and secondly, they would ride right up your ass giving him the best view. you and him both knew that if you’re going to wear these panties, he’s going to fuck you with them on.

of course you’d prepped incase he did come over, which had happened one too many times before, but the optics of this really don’t help your no-contact agenda.

‘let’s talk then’ he pulls his jeans and boxers off, his cock springing out. yummy.

‘why don’t we talk about how you’re wearing these, hhmn?’ he cocks an eyebrow, snapping the band of your underwear hard ‘you know what happens when you wear these’ you can’t count the number of times he’s cum on your ass while you were in them.

he pulls your panties to the side, and there, another surprise. ‘oh, fuck me’ he groans needily. not only have you shaved down there, but you’ve trimmed your hair just the way he likes it.

‘fucking hell�� seungcheol curses again, licking and sticking a finger inside you, feeling your wet warmth pull his finger right in. ‘or no, let’s talk about how i can already fit one. no, two. oh? three?’ yes, three.

‘three of my fingers inside your pussy so easily’ he slides them in, all three coming out with a glossy sheen. and then, in a sickeningly sensual move, his runs his flat tongue over all three, licking them clean.

‘you taste like you need a dick inside you’ seungcheol grabs his, slapping it hard against his cupped palm. it’s like every thought in your mind turns into mush at the sound, and suddenly you’re just a hole. an empty hole.

‘cheollie’ you shouldn’t be calling him that ‘please put your big fat dick inside me. i need you so bad, cheollie’ you know exactly what to say to seungcheol to make him tick. ex or not.

he groans, pulling down a pillow and placing it under your lap to lift your hips. then he positions himself, lining himself up to your entrance.

‘wait’ you pause, much to his dicks disappointment, to grab a condom from the bedside table, your body twisting on its side. fuck, that ass looks good, seungcheol thinks, giving it a tight slap. ‘mmm’ you bite your lip, looking back at him.

‘again, daddy’ he slaps it even harder, the force of his palm making ripples on your skin. he looks at you now, so full of lust, and he can’t remember why he ever let you go. stupid fucking decision.

‘be a good girl and put it on for me’ it was one those odd things that really turned him on. he watches now as you rip the condom wrapper with your teeth, slowly rolling down its slippery edges onto his fat dick.

‘now come to daddy’ you lay back down as he grabs your legs and slides you towards him, a little squeal spilling out of you.

‘tell me what you want’

‘i want your fat dick inside my tight wet pussy’

‘that’s my girl’ he hooks two fingers under the ribbed fabric of your panties and pulls them aside, sliding his tip up and down your slick folds a few times before pushing just his fat mushroom head in. ‘fuck’ you both curse at the same time, and in the same breath as he penetrates you little by little until he’s all the way in.

‘shit, missed this pussy so much’ and you don’t say it out loud, but as he starts thrusting you’re reminded of just how much you missed his cock. no amount of vibrators and dildos could do for you what seungcheol is doing right now. it’s like he’s been able to scratch an itch deep, deep inside you. literally.

seungcheol repositions himself, leaning a little lower, angling his strokes a little higher, his cock teasing the roof of your pussy. once he’s satisfied with how he’s buried inside you, he slides his big hands up your arms before gripping your wrists tightly, shackling them in his palms, and slams down, pinning you onto the bed and fucking you.

‘oh fuck, yes’ you moan, in that nasal little way you do, which he finds stupidly hot.

‘that’s what daddy likes to hear’ he grins, his tongue touching his canines.

speaking of stupidly hot, you can’t help but notice how good he looks on top of you. has he gotten bigger? looks like it. his chest seems to have doubled, looking bigger, firmer, and frankly, more suckable. has he gotten hotter? definitely. maybe it's an ex thing or maybe it’s the red hair. god bless his hairdresser.

you’re a little dazed honestly, by his buff(er) built, especially the silver cross necklace that’s hanging off his thick neck, swinging above your face with every thrust.

‘like what you see?' he raises his eyebrow, catching you staring, and in response you bite on the dangling silver and pull him down towards you. you take his tongue into your mouth, swapping spit like a couple of teenagers.

now closer to you, you get a whiff of the faint smell of alcohol and cigarettes coming off him. you wonder where he was before this, and who got to see him looking this fine. there’s a hot sting of jealousy that cools when his chain skims across your breast, the cold metal making your nipples hard in an instant. seungcheol gets distracted by your tits once again, pushing them together and holding on as he fucks you.

‘love your tits’

‘love yours’ oh, they’ve definitely gotten bigger, you think, cupping one in your hand and circling your thumb over his nipple.

‘fuck yes, suck on it’ he bends, and you take him in your mouth, sucking on his tits, flicking his hard nub with your wet tongue.

‘yes, that’s it, good girl’ he grabs a fistful of your hair, pushing your face into his chest. seungcheol loved getting his nipples stimulated, and you feel the pleasure you're giving him pound straight back into you.

‘fucking love your pussy’

‘mmm, love your fat cock in my pussy’

‘love-’ the words are at the tip of his tongue, but before he says the stupid thing he’s not supposed to say, you kiss him, clenching your cunt so tightly and abruptly that it knocks the strength out his arms for a split second.

‘fuck, that feels amazing’ he groans ‘love your pussy so much. it’s made just for me’

‘just mine to fuck, only mine’ his possessiveness — one of the reasons it didn’t work, but so sexy in this moment.

‘yeah?’ you know what he’s really asking. he wants to know if you’ve fucked anyone else in your weeks apart, if there’s a legitimate reason for that condom separating the both of you or if its a formality. he needs to know.

ex-seungcheol is greedy — he reminded you of a bratty child at times. it was not his toy anymore but he refused to let anyone else play with it. mine!

‘only yours’ you say, and take it a step further, whispering into his ear ‘i’m only yours so take the condom off and fuck me raw’

the no-contact rule dies a violent death as he pulls out, yanking off the condom and sliding his fat, veiny, throbbing cock back inside you in what seems like less than a second.

‘fuck’ the sensation of your raw slippery cunt in contrast with how tight you’re clenching around his dick makes him curse. you wrap your legs around his waist, digging the heels of your foot into his back to push him deeper inside you.

‘y-yes, i can feel you so deep’ you breathe, two of your fingers sliding down to rub your swollen clit in sloppy circles.

‘god i love it when you play with your pussy with my dick deep inside you’ he’s fucking you so forcefully now that the slap of his skin against yours is all that can be heard.

your arch your back, closing your eyes and focusing hard on all the ways you’re being stimulated — your fingertips on your clit, the tip of his penis pressing against your walls, and his heavy balls slapping against your asshole — all the sensations twisting into a knot in your stomach.

‘you’re there, right there. do it’ he guides you ‘be a good girl and cum for me now’ his words are all you need as the knot tightens and then unravels, the orgasm taking over you from your head to your toes. it’s an addictive high, one that you’ve desperately missed, and it leaves you shaking and stuttering under him.

‘yes, there you go, there it is. fuck’ he pulls out his cock halfway, reeling at the sight of your creamy white cum coating it ‘look at that. oh you’re such a good girl for creaming all over daddy’s dick’

you breathe a satisfied breath, feeling your cunt continue to clench involuntarily at his praise, his pace suddenly picking up.

‘squeeze around my dick just like that’ he grabs both your legs, holding them together by the ankle and turns your body so you’re laying on your side, your legs folded at your knees. your pussy is so tight in this position, and your ass looks extra fat. ‘fucking hot’ he praises, moaning as you squeeze so tight around him, over and over. he knows he’s about to blow.

‘cum on my ass, daddy’ it’s tradition at this point. seungcheol pulls out, perfectly positioning himself over your ass and frantically jerks off, the squelch of his strokes filling the room. he grabs a handful in his other hand, squeezing hard. ouch. that’s going to leave a mark.

‘cum for me’ you sing seductively, his breath catching in his throat. ‘cover me in your cum, daddy. i’m all yours to cum on. i’m only yours’ you remind, and that pushes him right over the edge as he cums with a loud long grunt, shooting his thick, warm, milky load all over your cheeks. and god, there’s so so much of it.

‘holy shit. how long have you been storing that?’ you scoop some up with your fingers, giving it a taste ‘mmm, yum’

honestly, seungcheol’s a little surprised by his load too, shaking his head and laughing softly as you review his cum. ‘wait, let me just get the, where is that thing?’

he picks up his crumpled overshirt, a balenciaga shirt mind you, off the floor and cleans the cum off you, then wipes his own dick down.

‘i can’t believe you still do that’

‘do what?’

‘use your expensive ass clothes to wipe cum like they’re disposable tissues or something’

he shrugs ‘they may as well be for me’

you roll your eyes at that, starting to remember reasons as to why he’s your ex again.

‘oh, by the way’ seungcheol rolls up the cum rag shirt before chucking it back onto the floor.

‘were you seriously trying to bring up an article on how to break up while i was sucking on your tits?’

you chuckle cutely ‘yeah, i was actually. but fuck that article, right?’

‘yeah’ he nods, pouting in agreement ‘fuck that article’ he breaks into a huge smile, looking at you fondly as you both crack up, and finds himself asking the question he always does after one these nights — why did you both break up again?

[heizlut]

corrupted creampie with Cyno mmgh-

when will it be my turn😩 i love cyno, i can do so much for this so here goes:

Best Friends

cw: manipulation, corruption, creampie, dubcon, kinda dark

tags: sub fem! reader, scummy dom!cyno, mostly proofread

nsfw under the cut

m!list here

⌁₊˚⊹ ⌁₊˚⊹ ⌁₊˚⊹ ⌁₊˚⊹ ⌁₊˚⊹

You had always been such a studious girl, having graduated at the top of your darshan in the Akademiya. You naturally became close with Cyno during your time spent there as he loved the way you stuck to the rules, unafraid of making reports to the Matra when you took note of people who broke them. You were so proud of him when he told you he was taking over as General Mahamatra, giving him endless praises and support.

Cyno wasn't one to show much emotion, keeping his expressions neutral and his voice monotone. But when it came to you, something inside him stirred to life. Something that shouldn't be there that twisted his thoughts and brought heat to his loins. Cyno wanted to ruin you.

A knock sounds on Cyno's door and his sharp gaze shoots to the source. His tense body relaxes when he hears the sound of your voice coming from the other side, "Cyno! Hurry and let me in, I'm soaked!" His lips twitch at the thought of you being soaked, wishing you were saying such a thing in sexual desperation for him rather than literally being drenched by the pouring rain outside. "Coming", his usual tone of voice as he pads over to the front door. He opens the door to see you completely wet from the rain and moves to the side, letting you in.

You shiver as you step in and smile gratefully at him, giving your thanks. Cyno hums in acknowledgement, not trusting his own voice at the moment as his cock comes to life in his pants. Thank the archons for that slip of purple cloth that hid his bulge in his shorts... Your sweet laugh breaks his thoughts and he looks to you as you smile at him, "Sorry for making your floors wet. I didn't realize it was going to rain or else I would've asked to see you another time." Fuck, you were too innocent. The fabric of your clothes clung to your body, emphasizing each curve, the roundness of your breasts, and the curve of your ass.

You tilt your head slightly with mild concern, "Cyno? Are you okay?" Cyno blinks and tries so very hard not to let his eyes wander, "Mhm. How about you take a hot bath and I'll let you borrow something of mine to wear?" You smile, but shake your head, "You can just give me a towel. I don't want to impose or cross a line with you." Cyno frowns a little. You always stuck to rules, never one to even toe the line. He used to love that about you and he absolutely should still love that about you considering his position in Sumeru, but now... Now he wanted to send you careening over that line.

"I don't want you to get sick. I'll start the bath and leave out some clothes for you to wear when you're done", he says cooly, trying to remain indifferent as always. You begin to protest, but one pointed look with his scarlet eyes made you snap your mouth shut. A hint of a smile plays on Cyno's lips at your compliance and he leaves the room to fill the bath with hot water for you. You follow him almost like a lost puppy, dripping water falling from your body to the floors. Cyno digs through his clothes and pulls out a simple white t-shirt and looks to you with an unreadable expression, "This is the only thing that might fit you. I would give you pants, but they would be too big." He holds the shirt up to your shivering body, "The shirt looks like it'll be big enough to keep you covered."

Your cheeks flush the prettiest shade of red at the idea of only wearing your best friend's shirt and nothing else. The blush of your cheeks doesn't go unnoticed by Cyno who feels immense satisfaction. He folds up the shirt and hands it to you, his hands grazing yours as he does so, "The bath should be ready now." You look at him with such a cute expression that makes that sick feeling in him grow. Cyno shouldn't want to corrupt you, but he so desperately wanted to see you writhe underneath him. What expressions would you make then...?

You clear your throat awkwardly to bring Cyno back from his thoughts. He startles slightly and immediately lets go of your hands that held his shirt, "Sorry...", he mutters. You just give a small smile, feeling more concerned about why he was spacing out so much today. You knew your best friend would tell you if he felt inclined to, so you didn't push. You turn and head into the bathroom, shutting the door. You peel your wet clothes from your body, leaving them in a little pile on the floor as you step into the steaming bath.

Cyno paces in his room trying to will away his boner, trying to keep his dark and lustful thoughts at bay. HIs head snaps up when he hears the bathroom door open. You peek your head out from behind the door and look at him, flushed with embarrassment, "I...I'm coming out now." You were so fucking cute and his cock throbs for you under his clothes when you step out timidly, pulling at the hem of his shirt that fell right below the curve of your ass. Cyno fights the groan that is clawing at his throat.

You can't even look at him when you make your way to him, too embarrassed about the whole situation and the shirt that truly didn't leave much to the imagination. This was so inappropriate in your mind and you fumble over your words, "S-sorry again for inconveniencing you and getting your.. floors all wet...and-" You're cut off when Cyno reached forward and twisted a lock of your wet hair around his finger. Your eyes meet his and he speaks gruffly, "Don't apologize." He lets the strand of your hair fall back into place, "Should we continue with our original plans?"

You just gawk at him for a moment, trying to process your thoughts and feelings, "Hmm? O-oh, yeah, let's do that." You lead the way back to the main room of him home and seat yourself on the plush green chair, pulling at the hem of the shirt once more. Cyno sits across from you, almost studying you as you fidgeted. He lets out a sigh, "Let's have a drink. You clearly need one." You laugh a little, "It seems that way doesn't it..."

Cyno moves to the cabinets, taking out a bottle of snake wine he had been saving and pours it into two glasses. He hands you one, to which you thank him politely and he moves back to his seat. You take a tentative sip, your eyes widening at the taste. A ghost of a smirk on Cyno's lips as he watches you take a longer drink. By the time you'd finished your glass, the strong wine was messing with your senses and it felt...good. You felt more relaxed despite the fact that you were sitting across from your best friend wearing his shirt that hardly covered you. The same best friend who protected you always, but now wanted to feel your tight walls strangle his cock.

You fake a pout at Cyno, "I need more, 's empty..." You tilt and shake your glass to display just how empty it was. He chuckles softly at your cute mannerisms and hold his untouched glass of snake wine out towards you, "Here, have mine and I'll refill the empty glass." Your eyes light up like you were a child in a candy store, reaching out to take the full glass from him as you speak in a sing-song tone, "My best friend, always taking care of me~" Cyno's eyes hold a glint of something dark and lustful as you take the glass and sip from it; looking especially cute and naive.

His scarlet eyes linger on your body then make their way back to your eyes, "Come sit with me. You're far away." His voice was monotone and collected as usual as he speaks to you. You tilt your head so cutely at his words, "But there's no room in your chair?" Cyno felt so fucking dangerous, wanting to split you apart on his cock right here, right now. But he didn't want to scare you. He wanted this to work. He pats his thigh, "Come here. There's room." Your lips form a little smile as your eyebrows raise, "Is that okay with you?" He gives you an incredulous look, "I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't okay with it. Now come here."

You chew at your lip as you rise from you seat, glass of wine in hand, and you make your way to him. A groan nearly slips from him when you settle into his lap. Cyno snakes an arm around your waist, keeping you close to him, doing his best not to rut up into you. You wiggle against his bulge as you make yourself more comfortable and you suck in a breath, eyes wide as you look up at him, "There's something..." Cyno shushes you, "Don't pay me any mind. I'm fine." Oh, he was so far from fine right now... Your bare pussy was pressed against his hardened cock and you were too dumb to realize what you were doing to him.

He does his best to control himself as you sip your wine and chatter on about your day. You eye flit to his hand that was now slowly making its way up you thigh and closer to the hem of your shirt, "Cyno?" He shushes you again as his fingers trace little shapes against you skin, steadily moving under you shirt now. Your cheeks heat up again, unable to tear your eyes away from the outline of his hand making its way up to your breasts. You let out a little squeal when Cyno squeezes one of your breasts, "What're you doing?!"

Cyno takes a deep breath as his hips begin to rock underneath you, his hand massaging your breast and toying with your nipple, "Shh, let your best friend decompress, yeah?" "F-friends don't do this...", you say softly as your breathing begins to pick up and your arousal starts to make a mess on his pants. Cyno pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers, "Friends might not. But best friends do..." Your mouth forms a little "O" as your drunken mind decides that what he's saying must be true. He was always brutally honest, so why would he lie now...right?

He moves his hand back out and takes your glass from you, setting it on the table in front of the two of you. Cyno's hot breath fans against your ear as he speaks, "Arms up." Your hesitantly raise your arms and Cyno drags the shirt over your head and tosses it to the floor, leaving you completely naked in his lap. You felt so exposed, but your thoughts melt away when he brings you closer, pressing little kisses against your shoulder and neck as your naked back meets his bare, tanned chest.

As he continues leaving kisses along your skin, Cyno's hands spread your thighs apart, "Always such a good girl following all the rules... Never bending or breaking them..." He trails off for moment as his teeth sink into your skin, making you gasp. He licks at the mark and chuckles, "You'll follow all my rules, won't you?" You turn your head a little to look at him nervously, "Your rules?" Cyno gives a slight smirk, "Mhm. You wouldn't dare break the rules that come from the General Mahamatra himself, right?"

You take too long to answer and slaps your sticky cunt, "Answer me." Your breathless as you nod, your voice coming out shaky from both nerves and arousal, "I-I wouldn't break them... That would be... wrong." Cyno practically purrs at your answer. You were too naive and too much of a good girl to ever dare to break a rule and he would use this to his advantage exponentially. He brings two fingers to your lips, "Open." Your lips part for him and he pushes the fingers inside. You instinctively begin to suck on them, wetting them with your saliva.

Cyno hums in satisfaction and pulls them out, watching as they glisten in the light, "Let me play with you." Before you can ask what he means, his wet fingers push into your tight pussy, making you moan as your head falls back against his shoulder. He slowly pumps his fingers in and out, then scissors them to stretch you out. The slick sound coming from between your legs made you dizzy and he presses upwards to your g-spot. A pretty whine falls from your lips as your eyes flutter shut. Cyno removes his fingers from inside of you to play with you little clit, circling it with the pads of his sticky, wet digits, "Your pussy is so good for me. Have to get it nice and ready for my cock..."

You whine pathetically when he stops and holds the same two fingers to your lips again, "Clean them. Want you to taste how sweet you are." You take his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his fingers as the taste of your own arousal fills your senses. Cyno takes them out and begins to pull his leaking fat cock from out of his pants. You're in a daze when he pats your ass and gives you another command, "Turn around and face me." Without a second thought, you turn so that you straddle him. His cock throbbing in anticipation against his abdomen. Cyno takes your hand and places it on his length, "This is what you do to me. Take responsibility."

Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words as you wrap your hand around his lightly tanned cock and pump it languidly, mesmerized by the way the pre cum leaks from his flushed tip, "Do best friends do this too?" You asked to shyly that it makes him twitch in your hand, "Yes, and they do so much more." You lock eyes for a moment, the heat of his gaze is so intense and you can't help but want more. Wanting to make Cyno happy and not wanting to go against his commands.

Cyno grips your hips, "Lift up and put my cock in." You obey, of course, lifting yourself up just enough to position yourself over his length. He raises an eyebrow when you hesitate, hovering over him. The look alone made you feel like you were guilty of doing something wrong so you immediately sink down onto him. Cyno's head falls back against the cushion of his chair as your tight, wet walls engulf his cock. "'S too big, Cyno", you whine as your face twists in pleasure. "You can take it", he growls as he thrusts up into you, making you cry out.

The grip he has on your hips tightens as he fucks up into you cute little cunt. His balls slap against your ass as he hits the deepest parts inside of you. Slapping skin, slick squelching, and grunts and moans fill the space as he fills you, "Look at you taking your best friends cock so well. Gonna let me fuck you all the time, right? Wouldn't want to disappoint me or break a rule, right? You're too good for that." "Uh-huh... I'll always be good! Don't wanna get in troubleeee", you cry as he pistons his cock in your cunt.

Cyno lands a smack on your ass and you clench hard around him, creaming on his cock. He growls at the sight of your white cream making a sticky mess at the base of his cock and dripping between his thighs. It's enough for him to be catapulted to his own end as a deep moan comes from his throat, "Take it. Be a good girl and take it all." His cock throbs wildly as his thick ropes of cum fill your sweet pussy. You wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his neck as his forehead rests against your shoulder.

His cock twitches a few more times before it finally settles. You both are breathless and sweaty, neither of you wanting to move from your position. You look into Cyno's scarlet eyes, face flushed from everything that happened. Cyno looks at you lips then back to your gaze, "Can I kiss you?" You blink in confusion. He had just fucked you and he was asking if he could kiss you? "Do best friends do that?", was your cute reply, genuinely wanting to know so you didn’t break any rules. He chuckles at your naivety, "Yeah, best friends do that too."

⌁₊˚⊹ ⌁₊˚⊹ ⌁₊˚⊹ ⌁₊˚⊹ ⌁₊˚⊹

a/n: somethin about scummy cyno really does it for me…

[leighsartworks216]

I Heart You

Sylus x gn!Reader

I was struggling so hard against the abyss that is writer's block yesterday and then this suddenly came out of me

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, children, parenthood, silly, kissing, references to Sylus's Mountain Journey and myth

Word Count: 1,152

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Something touches Sylus's face, undeniably the felt tip of a marker. It tickles his cheek. Stifled giggles tell him exactly who is behind it.

The marker clicks shut and he strikes, grabbing the culprit and hugging them close to his chest while they squeal with surprise. "What mischief have you gotten into now?" he asks, leveling a narrowed stare at his daughter.

She laughs freely now, with a smile so bright it lights up the entire N109 Zone. "None!"

"Oh, really? Then what's that in your hand?"

"Nothing!" she giggles out. She tries to throw the marker away, but his Evol catches it midair and brings it right back to him. "That's cheating!"

He chuckles. "You're sneaking around to attack a poor, defenseless man while he sleeps, but I'm cheating when I catch you red-handed?" He pokes the capped end of the marker to her cheek. "What did you draw on my face?"

She sits up, slipping down to sit in his lap. Maybe it's his fault for thinking it was safe to drift off in the living room chair, open and exposed for his devilish child to have free rein in messing with him. Tiny hands reach up to hold his face.

"You have to guess!"

"Do I? Well..." He pretends to think about it for a moment. Truth be told, he recognized the shape immediately, from a time years before his baby dragon was born. A time before she was even a concept. "Is it Mephisto?"

She giggles again and shakes her head.

"No? How about... a self-portrait?"

"What's that?"

"A drawing of you."

She shakes her head. "Uh-uh, not me."

"Is it a drawing of me, then?"

"Nope!"

He sighs, as though this game is simply far too difficult for him. "I need a hint. Can you trace it for me?"

Sylus gets almost giddy at the feeling of her little finger as it follows the drawn shape on his cheek. It's overwhelming, sometimes, the love he has for his little girl. An ache forms in his chest every time he remembers he gets to watch her grow up. He has to swallow it down even now to focus solely on their little game.

"I know what it is," he says once she's traced it twice. He smiles. "It's a heart."

Her eyes light up as she nods enthusiastically. "Yeah! Missus Staf- Stef-"

"Stefano."

"Stef-ano said that it means 'love' and that we should give the people we love a heart to show we love them!" She pokes his cheek, right in the center of the heart. "Cuz I love you!"

Sylus chuckles softly, heart overflowing. He hugs her to him again and kisses her chubby little cheek. "I love you too, sweetie. Do you want me to give you a heart?"

She looks up at him like the thought never occurred to her that she could get a heart in return. She nods. "Yeah!"

"Okay, but we shouldn't draw on people's faces. Give me your hand."

He uncaps the marker with one hand. With his other, her little hand rests in his palm, dwarfed by the sheer size of it. In two quick lines, a heart is drawn on the back of her hand. She turns her hand every which way to see it. She looks at it like it's worth a billion dollars.

The door to the room clicks open. "Sweetie, I told you to leave daddy alone while he's napping."

She doesn't process that she's being scolded at all as she climbs out of his lap and runs to the door where you stand, hand outstretched. "Look, look! Daddy gave me a heart! Cuz Missus Stef-an- Stef-"

"Stefano," you supply.

"Cuz Missus Stef-an-o said to give a heart to the people we love!"

You smile. "That's very sweet, baby! It's beautiful."

"I had to return the favor," Sylus says, showing you her own crudely drawn heart on his cheek. There's a knowing gleam in his eye. "You need one, too, beloved."

Your daughter is immediately taken with the idea. She grabs your hand and bounces on her feet as she drags you over. "Yeah, yeah! We should all have one!"

You sit on one of Sylus's legs as she crawls up into the other. He passes the marker back to her. "Not on the face," he gently reminds her.

"Right!" She grabs your hand to hold it in place (rather clumsily) so she can draw the heart. She tries to be more careful with it this time, to make it extra pretty. The lines end up wobbly and the heart is larger on one side than the other, but she beams at her masterpiece when she's finished. "Now we all have hearts!"

"Did you give uncle Luke and uncle Kieran hearts, too?" Sylus asks.

She gasps. "Oh no! They need hearts!" She scrambles off his leg, nearly falling to the floor in her haste. In no time at all, she's out the door and on a mission.

In the quiet left in her wake, Sylus picks up your hand and interlaces your fingers. He places little kisses to your knuckles. You readjust in his lap to rest your head on his shoulder, taking in the rare peaceful moment.

"Too bad she took the marker with her." You poke his bare cheek with your free hand. "I could've given you a heart from me."

He looks down at you with a smile. "It's still there, from our little roadtrip."

"I'm surprised you remember that."

"Of course I remember it," he scoffs. "We still need to go back there, after all."

You smile wistfully. "The tree..."

He nods with a hum, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "It's almost been a decade. We can bring her along, tell her the story about it."

Memories flood through you. Back then, you were both holding back, truth be told. Real affection hidden under teasing and banter. It was safer to hide under that layer of protection. You're glad you don't have to hide anymore.

You trace your fingers along his jaw to guide his mouth to yours. A kiss so sweet and simple, soft and slow. He lets out a noise of contentment against your lips. When he pulls away, he nuzzles his nose against yours, grinning triumphantly when you giggle at the ticklish touch.

"You can get back to your nap now," you tell him, voice just a whisper.

He shakes his head before you can get off him. "It's almost dinnertime. I'll help you cook." His arms wrap around your back and under your knees, lifting you effortlessly as he stands and carries you out of the lounge.

You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek once more. "I heart you, Sy," you say teasingly.

He chuckles and rubs his cheek against your head until your laugh fills the air. "I heart you, too, sweetie."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry

[the-kr8tor]

Hi my love 🤭

I'm pretty sure that Christmas doesn't exist in the Arcane universe so maybe a NYE event of sorts featuring Ekko and Reader?

They're either decorating or preparing some fireflies-fireworks. And while Ekko tries to hide his feelings for you, the fireflies around him keep turning into hearts behind his back! They aren't helping at all!

The end is up to you! I know you'll rock it 🥳

Thank you for the request, pookie!! I hope you like it ☺️❤️❤️

Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for clothing), R has nicknames, cw food mentions, cw alcohol mention, cw injury mention, established relationship, best friends to lovers (speed run edition), love confession, lovestruck! Ekko, firelight! Reader, fluff!

Navigation

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The entire hideout is busy, firelights running around, trying to get everything together before the sun sets. But it's not for some operation to bust a shimmer delivery or to keep some chem barons out of their territory— no, it's for something more festive. An occasion that's more happy that entails some alcohol, twinkling lights, greasy food and most of all great company. Ekko stares fondly at you from across the hideout as he thinks that your presence is his favourite. But Ekko doesn't let it show, or he hopes it's not noticeable.

His hands busy themselves with the wires needed to light up the lanterns. Fingers mindlessly twist around the red wires, but his eyes are nowhere near it. He looks at you as the orange glow of the sun bathes you in its light. Skin shining under it, smile blindingly bright as you grin at a fellow firelight who's helping you hang the rainbow streamers. It was your idea to celebrate the new year all without using loud fireworks since it would give away the hideout's position. In place of the traditional firework celebration, you've suggested sparklers and lanterns that people would tuck their wishes in before letting the paper lanterns go. The lanterns’ hot air would stop just before it reaches the top of the tree so that it doesn't escape the hideout.

With the help of Ekko's genius, and your expert pyrotechnics, the firelights can finally celebrate the festivities properly all without being worried of giving their location away. And with the help of the entire commune, preparing food, putting up decorations and setting up the table, it's all going according to plan.

Ekko thinks that you two make a great team. He can't help but smile at your back as you stand on your tiptoe to reach a tree branch. His oversized jacket looks great on you. He draped it over you this morning after he saw you walk out with a flimsy jacket when the chill in the air has turned into the negatives. You haven't shoved it off, he even pretended not to see you cuddle close to it whenever a breeze passes by.

You stand precariously on a ladder, body stretched up high. He sighs, looking like a lovelorn schoolboy. All the years of knowing you and having feelings for you, he has never felt like this, as if his heart is about to burst out of his chest and jump away towards your hands. He blames all the quiet nights you two have spent together planning the celebration. His mind keeps going back to the small moments where your knee would nudge his own, shoulders kissing his, and eyes aglow under his work lamp as you stare softly at him.

He jumps when he suddenly felt a spark on his fingertips. Following the electric shock, there's loud laughter around him.

With narrowed eyes, he finds the source. “What was that for?” Ekko asks Scar, nose scrunching up at his right hand man, whose finger was just pressing on the on switch. The others are holding in their laughter when Ekko glances at them.

“You were ogling.” Scar says with a teasing smirk.

“I wasn't.” Ekko goes back to connecting the wires, realising that he has forgotten to put on his gloves before working because he was staring at you from the get go. “I was making sure she doesn't fall.”

“From all the way over here?” Scar raises a pierced brow, eyes glinting with playfulness. Ekko blames Scar's light heartedness to the sweet mocktails a firelight concocted for the occasion.

“Shut up.” Ekko clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he pretends to finish up the wires.

“Sure.” Scar hums whilst there's snickering around him. Some even make kissing noises behind his back. They're lucky he's in a good mood or he'll send them to patrol the area instead.

“This one's done.” Ekko practically shoves the lantern in Scar's arms. He was caught in the act, but he'll be damned if he shows his flustered state.

“The next batch is near her by the way.” Scar leans to whisper, “you're within catching distance if she falls.”

Ekko's in a forgiving mood, and he can't keep hiding his clammy hands from everyone. So with a slight shove at Scar and quickly snatching his gloves, he makes his way towards you.

You heard his almost silent footfalls that's oh so familiar before you could even take a peek at him. “Hey, bossman, how're the lanterns?”

“Didn't I tell you to stop calling me that?” He looks up at you, hand stabilizing the ladder while you stretch yourself further up.

“The meaning of the nickname was lost on me years ago, Ekko.” You glance down, smiling sweetly at him. Unbeknownst to you, the sun shines directly behind you, giving you a heavenly aura as he sighs and grips the ladder tightly from the sight. “Besides, I'm used to it. It's a cute nickname.”

“Yeah, suits you, bossman.” Scar adds from way across the hideout. Ekko almost throws a light bulb at him, it would've hit him dead on.

Scar and those big ass ears of his. With a roll of Ekko's eyes, he turns back towards a giggling you, and his brown eyes immediately turn soft.

“Aren't you supposed to be making the sparklers?” Ekko can't help but give you a gentle smile as you tilt your head at him.

“Ah, now I remember why I call you bossman.” You take a few steps down to level with him. Leaning on a step, chin pressed atop your elbow, you meet with his brown eyes. “Finished it a few hours ago with some help from Vi.” Your eyes dart down at his hands, blinking at his slightly singed fingertips. You take his hand worryingly as his eyes zero in on your hand bracelet around his wrist. “What happened?” The pad of your thumb ghost over it carefully.

“I'm surprised Vi didn't set anything on fire.” He looks at your face while you stare with concern at his minor injury. “The thing suddenly turned on.” He's hoping that you can't feel his rapid pulse under your hand.

“What?” You almost break your neck at how fast you look at him. “We made the right calculations—”

“It's fine.” Ekko turns the table, hand reaching up to your elbow, cupping it gently. Your breath hitches in your throat, he notices, making him gulp down his nerves. His hand moves away in case you're uncomfortable from the touch, but you take his hand before he could fully leave your side. His heart leaps in his chest, anymore movement and it'll finally escape into your hands.

“I'm fine, trouble.” He squeezes your hand once, eyes darting quickly at your intertwined hands to remember it by.

“You sure?” Thumb running along the inside of his wrist, you can feel his pulse hammering wildly against his skin. “Alright, just check the damn thing before touching it, okay?”

“Yeah.” Ekko nods, mind telling him to press a kiss on each of your knuckles that he refuses to indulge himself in. “Now who's being the boss, hm?”

Chuckling, you roll your eyes as you reluctantly release him. His touch lingers for a moment longer, fingers grazing down your palms before you climb back up. “Go back to work or we'll be stuck preparing here until midnight.”

“On it, boss.” He mockingly says, walking away and towards the unfinished string of lanterns.

The sound of the ladder creaks as you step up, it has Ekko's worry knocking behind his back. And just as when the creaking turns into splitting wood, he's already turning around, bolting towards you at a speed he didn't even know he could manage.

The next thing you know, you're in his arms. “Holy shit!” You screech whilst firelights circle around you in a hurry. You can hear their sigh of relief when they see you and Ekko alright. He has fallen on the dusty ground with you on his lap, but you both got out of the fall without a scratch. Noticing him being under you, you grasp at his face, eyes wildly checking him for injuries. “Shit, are you alright, Ekko?!”

He groans, face falling atop your clavicle, arms still wrapped around you protectively. In truth, he's hiding his face from everyone else, knowing that they're snickering amongst themselves. His behind aches, but he's glad that he caught you in time. He can't begin to imagine if he didn't.

“Ekko?!” You call for him when he still doesn't respond. “Medic—!”

“I'm okay.” Grasping your bicep, he takes a deep breath before leaning away from you. “No medic needed—!”

Your sudden embrace has his face buried in your chest. Cheeks warm, his arms hovers around you in surprise for a second before hugging you back.

“I thought I killed you!”

“Mmfmfmmhmf.” His muffled voice has you moving away quickly lest he dies of suffocation instead. He takes in a deep breath to stabilize his staggered breathing while you still cradle his face. Pupils blown out, he refuses to look at the circle of firelights who are certainly making kissy faces at him or giggling amongst each other. “I said I'm fine, trouble. Are you okay?” Hands over your back, he sees your eyes glimmer under the light, lip jutting out into a frown.

Your arms unconsciously wrap around his neck, relief evident on your face. You're the one who fell from twelve feet, and yet you're worried about him. You could only nod, moving to embrace him again. Gentler and softer this time as you hide the tears clinging to your lashes against the crook of his neck. You'll never forgive yourself if you hurt him.

Ekko's hand rubs along your back, hugging you against him as he quietly shoo away his people. Scar helps disperse the crowd, but not without sending a quick wink at him.

The air around him seems to lull him to sleep, or was it your comfort that has him relaxing in place? He could stay that way with you forever, if you asked, he would gladly grant it.

“At this rate we'd be here until midnight.” He whispers against the shell of your ear. Chin placed atop your shoulder, he looks at the shattered pile of wood that used to be a ladder.

“I'm sorry.” You suddenly move away, subtly wiping away at your eyes. “Thank you for catching me.”

His heart wretches out of his chest. “I didn't say you should go.” Hand around your own, he stops you from standing up, but gives you enough space to leave.

You stay, squeezing his hand as you fall back into his lap. “You sure? We're right in the middle of the hideout.”

“I figured you weren't ready to leave just yet.”

Your hand reaches towards his cheek, staying there to rub affectionately away the dust sticking to his skin. “I thought I hurt you. Please tell me you're alright.”

“Better than.” He leans against your hand. Giving you a minute, he takes you in. From the curve of your lips, to how your cool hand feels on his warm skin, and to your frostbitten nose. He laments under you. Eyes darting around, it finally occurs to him that you two are right in the middle of everything. For what he plans next, he wants it to just be you and him. “C’mon, let's get you some water, yeah?”

Inhaling, you rub away the tears and stand up. You help him up with a hand, and he doesn't let go until you're both inside the tree house all alone. He knows that he should wait for the countdown, but he can't wait for a second more. Not when you look at him like how he looks at you. With longing and unequivocal love.

So when he spills his guts to you, all the soft and gentle words he has scrawled in his mind over the years, all with the thought of you— you didn't waste time crashing your lips against his own.

Ekko staggers forwards, hand bracing so you don't hit the wall. But you'd be too busy to notice anyway whilst you're kissing him fervently.

When he couldn't breathe anymore from the air stealing kiss, he leans his forehead against yours. Irisis blown out, hands cupping your cheeks as he inhales your scent and memorizes how you hold him close with your arms wrapped around his waist— he can't help but chuckle.

“Should I have waited for midnight?” He breathlessly asks, affection dripping from his words as he leans away to fully savour in your besotted state.

“Ekko, I've been waiting since you kissed my cheek when we were kids after I saved your ass from an enforcer.” You giggle as he mirrors your smile. “No, you shouldn't have waited. A kiss and a confession at midnight is cliché anyway.” Joking, you wipe away the sheen off his kiss bitten lips while you admire his lovestruck gaze that you're awfully fond of.

“We can still do it, kiss under the lanterns but this time without our teeth clashing and you almost tripping when you pounced on me.”

“I didn't pounce!” You feign an offended gasp, hand on your chest as he laughs and chases your lips. Kissing you with every breath you take. “Oh a very happy new year to us.”

Ekko takes it as a big yes for another kiss when the clock strikes twelve. Hopefully more in the new year, and for years to come.

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Right again • Tom Riddle x f!reader

Requested: No

Pairing: Tom Riddle x f!reader (+ SPOILER x f!reader)

Summary: Tom, who always thought relationships were meaningless, changed his mind when he met y/n. He plans on telling her how he feels, however, it doesn't go as planned, and he finds himself to be right - again.

Word count: 1.1K

Warnings: Fluff; angst; English is not my first language.

A/N: It wasn't supposed to be this long lmao. I will write the same plot with Mattheo, Lorenzo and Theo in the future - hopefully with a better title lol. PLEASE PLEASE DON'T LET THIS FLOP OR YOU WON'T SEE ME ON HERE AGAIN LOL. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Sorry for the typos. Hope you enjoy it! xx

Tag list: @helendeath @im-jesus @wolfyychan @blocked-zombieartist

Tom Riddle was in his dorm, one of the only places in Hogwarts where he could be by himself, and where he could be doing the things he enjoyed the most - studying and reading, both in silence. But, despite being currently sitting on his desk - always perfectly arranged -, he was not currently reading a book or studying. Instead, he was doing something he never thought he would do and was feeling something he never thought he would feel: thinking about a girl, and being nervous about a girl. 

Contrary to Mattheo and his friends, Tom has never cared for relationships - he could barely bear being around Mattheo’s friends if serious, meaningful discussions or activities weren’t involved. Sure, he cared for Mattheo, more than he cared to admit, because they were of the same blood. And for Tom, blood was one of the things that mattered the most, alongside loyalty, knowledge and influence. 

And y/n. 

Tom had always thought Mattheo was the only person he could ever care for - after all, they needed to have some sort of loyalty towards each other if they wanted to have a chance to fight their father - but, just like he was surprised to learn he did not want to follow his father in his quest for tyranny, Tom was surprised to find himself caring for y/n. 

Just like he had never cared for friendship, Tom had never cared for love. He did not think it was a weakness as his father did, but he did think it was not as important as people made it out to be. And, also, why care for love when something terrible, something that would likely cost lives was being prepared? 

But then again, y/n challenged that idea. Despite being in the same house and the same year, it took Tom several years to properly notice her. He knew she was one of Mattheo’s close friends outside of his usual group, and that gave them occasions to spend time together. Strangely, Tom had first found her company more tolerable than the others - she seemed to understand his will for silence, deep conversations and his interests, seemed to have the same thirst for knowledge. She was kind as well, having what people called “a heart of gold”, always ready to help anybody in need. She was also warm and funny, two things she shared with Mattheo, and it usually didn’t take people enough to want to be her friend. Tom had considered y/n the closest thing he had to a friend, and he thought he would stay that way until, one day, he saw her and Mattheo sitting closer to each other than usual, and he felt something strange, something he didn’t expect to feel, and something he struggled to understand - jealousy. He didn’t think it was that at first, but it became obvious it indeed was jealousy when he found himself wishing that he was the one sitting next to her, and not Mattheo. 

From that moment, he kept thinking about y/n in ways he had never done before - how beautiful she was, how he loved her smile, how he wanted to hold her hand, to smell her addictive perfume, to be the person who mattered most to her… how he wanted to hold and kiss her. He had considered those thoughts as foolish at first and tried to not have them, but everytime he was with y/n, they came back running, and he sometimes had to restrain himself from sitting closer to her just to smell her perfume when they were in class, or to hold her hand when they were studying in the library. He didn’t have anybody to ask questions to - Mattheo would laugh at him - so, like he always did, Tom gave himself the answer: it was love. At first, he thought it was only temporary and it didn’t even cross his mind to tell her about it, but he was forced to admit that, instead of disappearing, those feelings became stronger with each day passing. The idea displeased him, and he tried to avoid y/n so these feelings would go away, but it was in vain, and only made him miss y/n - and made him love her more. But one day, as he was sitting on his desk busy thinking about her instead of studying, the idea of just telling her how he felt seemed right. Of course, the idea of rejection secretly terrified him, but he would accept simply being her friend. y/n deserved a loyal, sincere friend and that is what Tom was. All she had to do was give him a chance he could be the boyfriend - the word seemed so meaningless compared to what he felt - she deserved, a boyfriend who would be loyal, caring, sincere, and who would put her and her needs and safety first.  

Thus, he got her favorite flowers, and, having thought about what to say to her for hours, decided to go and ask her to have a moment of her time. And now the time had come. He grabbed the bouquet, and, trying to pull himself together, left his dorm. At that hour, y/n should be in the common room. With a bit of luck, she would be alone. Tom headed for the common room, which was nearly empty except for two first years laughing. He started looking for y/n, and his heart, which had started to beat faster with nervosity and hope, almost broke. 

y/n was indeed here, standing in a corner of the room - kissing Mattheo, who had a hand on her waist and the other in her hair. He broke the kiss, looked at her in a way Tom had never seen him and y/n had a smile before Mattheo pressed his lips on hers like he couldn’t help it. 

Tom took a step back, and the only thing that stopped him from dropping the bouquet was the noise he knew it would make. He turned around and quickly yet silently went back to his dorm - where the flowers finally met the ground. His back against the door, he almost wanted to laugh now. How could he have been so foolish? It should have been obvious to him from the start that y/n, warm and kind y/n, would prefere Mattheo, Mattheo would everybody loved or at least fond of, who had no problems making friends and be with people, Mattheo who had never been anything like their father. Mattheo, who people didn’t intimidate or rightfully found cold and strange. 

You’ve won, brother. 

As always, Tom Riddle found he had been right. Love was meaningless, and he should never have cared for it - should have never cared for her - in the first place. 

He was right, but for the first time in his life, he wished he wasn’t.

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[synkqngel]

#resolutions.

pairing: non!idol winter x f!reader.

desc: 2 hours until midnight, 2 hours until you welcome the new year and 2 hours until minjeong’s 24th birthday.

wc: 1.6k

tags: slight angst if u squint; not proofread, minjeong seems like a red flag at first 💔

warnings: none really, maybe a SLIGHT implication of sexual encounters (not really but yk)

it had been aeri’s idea to throw a new year's party against your better judgement — after all, you're her flatmate, which also means you have a say on what gatherings can happen in this apartment specifically. “come on, yn, it'll only be a small gathering,” the pink haired girl had told you.

by ‘small gathering’, she meant her six of her colleagues, old friends from your high school, and her whole friend group. by no means was this considered large, but you worry about how everyone would fit in a 200sqm apartment. her friend group (which was coincidentally also your *only* friend group), consisted of jimin, yizhuo, and minjeong. you didn't hate minjeong, it's not like you weren't close or anything— you were, maybe just a little too much. unbeknownst to the other three, you had been stuck in a constant cycle of ‘will they won't they’, a cruel reminder of the nights you’ve spent in the blonde’s twin sized bed only to wake up without her.

kim minjeong is confusing.

you don't know where you stand with her. multiple times she has whispered you, ‘i love you’ underneath the covers; multiple times where she had almost slipped up and introduced you as her girlfriend in front of people she meets, only to act like she doesn't even *know* you later. confusion and hurt: the two words you would use to describe your relationship (or lack thereof), and intoxicating: the word you would use to describe kim minjeong— or maybe hesitant. countless of times you have fallen into this game of push and pull.

and it would take the heavens to keep you from doing so.

~

aeri snaps her fingers in front of your face, bringing you out of your daydream. “hellooo? aeri to n/n,”

you whip your head over to look in her direction, blinking a few times. “sorry, what’re you talking about?”

“you've been like this all day,” she continues, furrowing her eyebrows. “is something up? c’mon, spill it— im your best friend.”

a few seconds of silence follow, before you finally snap out of it for a second time. “nothing, i'm just tired, we've been cleaning the damn apartment all day long, aeri.”

the pink-haired girl began to laugh, seemingly relieved her best friend, the one she knew and loved was back. “there you are! you've been strangely quiet, i was getting worried.”

“i hate cleaning, you know that, gi,”

meaningless conversation followed, something the two of you had grown to love ever since you moved in together, before the sound of your doorbell ringing caught your attention. patting you on the back, aeri stood up, making her way to the door to see who it was. checking the front door camera, the familiar heads of wine red and black hair appeared at the door, you heard aeri animatedly greeting the two before the door shut behind them.

you stood up, moving to hug jimin and yizhuo with a grin plastered across your face. thank the lord the previous conversation with aeri distracted you from the thoughts of minjeong. “jimin, ning, thanks for coming,” you smiled, exclaiming into the material of jimin’s sweater.

the tallest laughed, fixing your top as she pulled away. “of course, if it's you guys, i'd come in a heartbeat.”

you'd always considered jimin to be the most motherly out of everyone, taking care of each and every one of you and your friends. turning to yizhuo, you find she’s already sat down at the kitchen island, pouring herself a drink as she gossips with aeri.

~

coats pile up on the rack as the night falls and the party stretches on, with more familiar faces and some unfamiliar ones, which you assume are aeri’s colleagues. however, when the doorbell rings again only to find minjeong at the door with a small present, all your emotions begin to flood your mind, the buzz of the party unable to distract your thoughts when you're faced with the root of your distress.

a beat passes.

“i didn't think you'd come. i thought you were in busan.” a mumble. you avoid her neutral gaze in fear of breaking down.

“i came back early,” she replies in a much softer tone. the short haired girl extends the gift box out to you. “merry late christmas, don't tell the others i didn't get anything for them,”

you let her in, watching as she goes through the process of hugging and greeting each one of her friends before walking off to talk to some other people. pocketing the small gift box, you slump down on the couch, watching the sky outside for a while.

“hey,” a voice beside you says. someone approaches you, glass in hand, and you recognise her from one of your classes. you turn to face her, sitting up offering a small smile. “yn, right? i'm natty.”

“oh, yeah, ive seen you around but we've never had the chance to talk before,” she smiles at your words, taking a sip of her drink. “nice to meet you.”

you return the smile; she's sociable, easy to talk to even. “nice to meet you, too.”

the minutes pass, and you fail to notice minjeong’s eyes boring into the back of your head from where she's sat on a stool. ryujin stops herself mid sentence, her eyes following the blonde’s trail of sight. “jealous, huh?“

the other whips her head around to face her. “huh? what do you mean?”

“never mind,” she smiles before changing the subject.

minjeong watches your conversation intently— just why was her face getting hot? her expression is a mix of frustration, bitterness, and confusion. just why was she feeling this way? she runs her hand through her short blonde hair, turning to ryujin. “i'll be back, i'm going to the bathroom.” the other gives her a nod as she basically dashes to lock herself in the bathroom. as minjeong stares at her reflection in the mirror; she grips the edge of the counter, her face red and eyes glossy. “fuck, i'm losing it,” she mumbles.

kim minjeong has never felt this way.

now that she has; she doesn't know how to handle it— and it's killing both you and her at the same time: two birds with one stone.

switching the faucet on, she splashes her face with the chilling water in an attempt to snap herself out of it; to collect and compose herself. minjeong looks back at her reflection in the mirror, face now dripping with water— her reflection scares her. “get it together, kim minjeong. jesus christ, what are you doing?!” she whispers before drying her wet face with a paper towel and making her way back to the party.

the time on her phone displays 11:53. 7 minutes until midnight.

after searching almost desperately for another three minutes, she finds you alone on the balcony, silently watching you as you stared at the skyline, the cold winter air blowing at your face and messing up your hair.

her breath hitches at the sight.

you turn your whole body around, leaning against the glass railing. “what?”

“we need to talk,” minjeong states, stepping closer.

“about what?” your eyebrows furrow and you look to the side briefly.

“our relationship.”

those two words hit you like a fucking punch to the gut. you freeze in place, looking her square in the eyes. your eyes widen and the words you're trying so desperately to say become trapped in your dry throat.

“you don't get to say that, kim minjeong.”

minjeong is taken aback. she furrows her eyebrows, her lips forming a slight frown. “what?”

“you heard me. you don't get to show up and tell me we need to talk about ‘our relationship.’” you scoff, stepping closer to the other. “because, let's be real, what fucking relationship even is there? we're friends, but you sometimes want to pretend we're dating for your own benefit— what's it going to be, minjeong, what am i?!”

a beat follows as neither of you talk, too afraid to continue.

those minutes feel an awfully lot like hours before she speaks again.

11:58.

“look, n/n,” she begins. “fuck, i never meant to make you feel that way, i'm- i'm just confused, and—”

“confused?“

“let me speak. now that i've gotten too close, i pushed you away in confusion— i don't know how the fuck to deal with shit like this,” minjeong continues, extending her arm to grab your hand— its cold against hers. “i'm so, so sorry, and i know you're hurt and pissed and you don't have to forgive me, but—”

the commotion from inside the party breaks the bubble surrounding the both of you, pulling you back to reality.

ten.

breathe in; breathe out. minjeong's breaths are shallow as she takes in your slightly confused expression.

nine.

minjeong swallows, looking you in the eyes before continuing.

eight.

“i'm so sorry,”

seven.

she closes her eyes for a half-second. “i really, really,”

six.

confused, you speak up. “minjeong, what the hells going—”

five.

“shush.” the blonde huffs. “let me continue.”

four.

“i really like you,”

three.

she tracks her words again, realising what she had just said. “no, i'm in love with you.”

two.

minjeong takes a deep breath, making eye contact.

one.

“i'm really, really in love with you,” she whispers, as if no one but you and her were to know it, as if it were a secret.

twelve midnight.

“minjeong, what—” you begin, only to be interrupted and caught off guard by the sensation of minjeong’s pink lips against yours. soft and gentle, she grabs the side of your face, pulling you in as you finally kiss her back, and it's all she's ever wanted. it's all *youve* ever wanted.

all the nights you've spent dreaming of this, dreaming of minjeong: dreaming of being hers, weren't in vain. no, not at all.

when she finally pulls away, she stares into your eyes, the city lights reflecting off of your irises. “happy new year.”

a few seconds of comfortable silence pass before you speak again, your voice quiet.

“and happy birthday, minjeong,”

~

a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR AND HAPPY WJNTER DAYY (in my timezone atleast) i literally wrote this in like an hour while waiting for the fireworks so i'm sorry if it's trash 😭😭

[steviewashere]

Kiss and Tell

(Can be found on ao3)

Steddie WC: 2,279 Tags: Post Season 4, Steve Harrington Has Auditory Processing Disorder, Eddie Munson Loves to Talk, Minor Angst, Mostly Fluff, Queer Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, But He Already Knows (Sort of), First Kiss, Lots of Kissing

Based on this post that I made. Happy reading! <3

-------- Steve has a staring problem. He knows this. He's been told this. And it's not something he can help or fix or find an alternative for. This is just what he knows.

It's something he's tried to maintain since he was a little boy. And, on that same note, is something he picked up while being a boy in a room with two adults who were fast talkers and big negotiators and all-in on the nature of their careers. But his parents certainly hate that he has a staring problem. Which, that's not unusual, most people hate that he does. Because he doesn't look them in the eyes for more than thirty seconds at a time. And even if he does, he doesn't hear a single thing they said, politely asking they start over, and feeling hurt when they just scoff as loud as possible and walk away from the conversation all together.

The audio just doesn't process. Never has. Probably never will.

He listens to music, but doesn't understand any meaning. He talks over the phone, but must have all other sound blocked out and the curtains shut and his eyes closed to imagine what the words look like leaving the other person's mouth. He argues, but loses track of the original point of the argument—when he laughs instead of apologizes.

And it would be fine—if—he wasn't close to losing his life every year. Where he has to listen to everybody and the important tiny details and the plans and the reasons for what they're doing. Which leads him to danger. Which gives him a bruised face. Which makes the listening even harder, once the concussion leaves and he's just got the leftover damage of his quirkiness.

It would be fine—if—he wasn't made to feel so stupid for what he must do. The jabs and the constant reminders and the...yeah, his sob story.

But there was Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins, who he could keep up with. Because they'd talk about the same things over and over, until he could practically relay all the information, pulled straight from the deep crevices of his brain, and it ends up that they had forgotten, rather than him.

And there was Nancy Wheeler, who was polite enough to repeat things. Who had flash cards and a soft, focusing voice. It was easy to write off looking at her lips. "Eyes up here, Steve," she'd say. "Sorry," he'd respond sheepishly, "getting lost." And he'd chuckle and she'd giggle and then they'd kiss a little and he wouldn't be reminded that he's just a little weird. That, maybe, he just isn't normal.

Robin Buckley makes things easy-ish. She talks fast. And a lot. And she never looks him in the eyes, unless she's asking for a very serious favor, or he has something on his face, or she just feels the need (she claims it's that she hasn't looked in a while, but he shrugs her off every time). (If he can get away with staring at her lips, then she can get away with never looking him in the eyes.) He's mentioned, though, that he has a hard time following her sometimes. That he needs the words repeated a few times. Explained the lip thing, with a tense voice and a quake in his chest and his fingers tapping at the sides of his thighs. And, for a brief moment, he had felt like a creep. Like one of those weirdos that preys on the idea of women kissing. And he wanted to open up Family Video's register, shove his head inside, and sort himself out into the container of fives. But she shrugged, said "Okay," and went back on some ramble, to which he was immediately drawn to her mouth. And saw her repeat the name, Vickie, at least twenty times. He grinned and then when the store was empty, he leaned across the counter and teasingly said, "You have a big fat crush on Vickie, don't you?" To say that he was proud of her sputtering is an understatement.

Now, Dustin and the others were harder to get through. Because they moved at their own pace. And they don't really stop to add him to the conversation. He gets it, to an extent. He knows that he's not really all that intrigued in what they enjoy. (Even if he really leans into the conversation when they mention Sherlock Holmes or Dracula or Star Wars or, even, Star Trek. And he pretends to not be interested in their science fair projects. Or the one time he caught them huddled around a Sports Illustrated, in which he fought the urge to chat their ears off about both baseball and basketball statistics.) But there's a point in the conversations where he's made to feel a little dumb; even if he was staring where they were speaking, but they always grow frustrated, a huff of air released, when they notice he's not "paying attention" (translation: looking them in the eyes. "Because, Steve, it's just talking etiquette!" Dustin had shouted once).

He loves all of them anyway. Even if he misses words. And he loses track of what they were saying. He just wishes they were a little bit more forgivable about it at the end of the day.

Then, Eddie Munson is walking along side him in an alternate universe. He's peeled the vest off his back and chucked it at Steve. And they're talking. Jealous of one another, but talking. But, Eddie's voice goes soft and quiet, his eyes pointing towards Nancy's back.

Steve is looking at Nancy, words fading into the background. And it's not a moment of realization. Or a moment of longing. Yearning, what say you. No—it's one of his moments in which he's "listening," but not processing. So he looks back. And for a mere second, Eddie's eyes are big where Steve stares. Big and wet and curious. Big and wet and persuasive. Big and wet and not at all his lips and Steve is still not listening.

But his lips. Well, Steve's seen lips. These are pretty. They're pink. Chapped and bitten and plush appearing. Mesmerizing. Stretching over Eddie's sharp teeth, exposing dimples and smile lines, making his recent stubble more noticeable than it's ever been before. But his lips are pretty.

Like girls lips, Steve muses. Not really taking in what that means. Because Eddie's saying something about true love. And—shit—okay. Steve can get behind an act of true love. He can get behind sharing denim and coating Eddie's clothes in blood and staring down his lips and—god, his eyes, Steve can't help but notice once more.

Eddie's like a vulnerable cow. With pretty lips, he has to point out. Or a baby deer. With such pretty lips. And he's talking and Steve's finally listening. But it's not just processing. No, Steve's intrigued, interested even. He tilts his head like a curious puppy. Leaning in. Eddie's breath ghosts the tip of his nose. And, sure, it's a little rank. But weirdly sweet. Warm where Steve is otherwise cold. Warm in places Steve's never considered to feel warm in, but he's willing to give in, to wrap up in whatever Eddie has to say. If it all means more of him.

So, it makes sense that after all that they go through, Steve finds himself in Eddie's orbit. As a friend. As a trauma bond. As everything Eddie needs him to be.

He sits on the Munson's couch. On the cushion that dips a little too low. The lights orange and dim and casting beautiful streaks of almost candle light on Eddie's soft, beautiful features. Highlighting where his nose is the most bulbous. His pronounced Cupid's bow. The outer edges of his irises, golden and honey against the off-white of his scleras.

Eddie talks like Robin does. Excited. A lot. Fast. But his voice is soft, focused on the information—like Nancy's. It's teasing, like Dustin's. Soft, though. So gentle. Murmured. Which makes sense, if Steve were to stop and think about it for just a moment. With how late it is. With the little amount of weed they smoked. And it all just fits, with how slow and careful Eddie's lips move. As if testing the words. As if searching for what he means.

But, god, Steve is following along. Of course he is. Hanging onto each one of Eddie's words.

"So, the cashier at the record store got all apprehensive about selling me this tape. Which, I guess makes sense because it's a special edition. Comes with a photo card or whatever, but like—Come on, y'know? If he wanted it so bad, he should'a bought it the moment it dropped. Not my fault he slacks on not just his job, but also his opportunities," Eddie rambles. And, that's right, he's complaining about the music store encounter he had today. Trying to buy some album for some band. Steve got lost part of the way through, so he's not sure who exactly Eddie was getting a tape for. The style of music. But he has most of the information. He just—

Has to squint harder.

So, Steve leans in. As casual as he possibly can. And narrows his eyes at Eddie's lips. The word pretty comes to mind again. Because of course it does. And he can't pull his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries. For some reason, the tips of his fingers tingle a little. Wanting to reach out. Trace his lower lip, right where it sticks out, just above the divot of his chin. Would it be soft, he asks himself. Does he wear chapstick? Steve sighs softly. I wish I could...taste it. His eyes widen, just the tiniest bit. But he ignores that in favor of whatever Eddie is saying. If only he could make it out. He leans impossibly closer.

And there it is again. The soft puffs of warm air. On the tip of his nose. His own lips. Tickling his stubble. Eddie's breath smells like weed and strawberry Tab; a little bit of Kraft macaroni and cheese. Maybe the smallest trace of pepper—

"Uh, Steve?" Eddie nervously calls out. But gets no response. Steve is only a couple inches away from his face. Eyes hooded. Glassy. Zeroed in on Eddie's lips. He's not talking. Doesn't even give a hum. Just...keeps staring.

Eddie sucks in a breath. Eyes darting over Steve's face. He doesn't talk again, hoping maybe Steve will stop. But, nope. In fact, the only thing Eddie gets as acknowledgement for the fact he's stopped talking, is that Steve pouts. Upset. As if his lips no longer moving is some great catastrophe to Steve, some tragedy, some misfortune.

And, Eddie, the awful wreck that he is, can only assume that this means one thing.

Steve wants a kiss. And is, maybe, too chicken shit to close the gap.

So, with no other option. And definitely not wanting to get away from the heated, stirring, calm mask of Steve's face—Eddie presses his mouth against Steve's. Hesitantly smushing their lips together. Dragging his lower lip against Steve's soft scowling one.

And he pulls away. Because Steve isn't doing anything in response.

No, in fact, Steve is extremely expressive now.

Wide eyes. Mouth opened into a silent "Oh." His cheeks are flushed. And as quick as it came upon him, whatever realization that was, fades. Like a cartoon character, Steve's face melts into one of pure infatuation. Mouth lilting. His posture slouching. Eyes going soft against the extreme red of his face.

"Do that again," Steve whispers.

Eddie obliges. And he obliges. And he keeps obliging until they're under a cool top sheet, skin slick with sweat and eyes piercing one another's mouths.

That's when, in the silent air of Eddie's tiny bedroom, Steve admits the greatest thing in the world. "I don't really process when people are talking unless I'm looking at their mouth. I have to read their lips. I didn't—I wasn't trying to kiss you at first, but—" And the motherfucker giggles. "If that's all it took..." Then he's kissing Eddie again. Like it's the last thing he'll ever get to do. And Eddie thinks, If I die from running out of breath doing this, then I've done everything in my life correctly.

So, sure, Steve has a huge staring problem. And he doesn't really listen. And it's something he'll never fix, even if there's a way to.

But he finds that his technique—the thing he's crafted since he was a little boy—no longer works. At least, not on Eddie. Because suddenly, looking at his gorgeous pink lips makes Steve only able to think about one thing: Kissing. And he can't follow along unless he fulfills that want.

Eddie could be in the middle of a deep, all inclusive description of his recent trap in the campaign he's crafting. He could be singing. He could be complaining about some movie he rented. But that doesn't matter. Because he stops talking the moment Steve leans in and kisses him. Kisses like he needs it to live.

And though he rolls his eyes. Huffs a breath. Smirks and barrels on. There's that giddiness, that love pooling in Eddie' heart. Just knowing the effect he has on Steve. And the way he's affected, too, when Steve just whispers, "Sorry, I got lost again. Start over?"

He obliges. And he keeps obliging. And his lips are usually swollen by the time he's finally done rambling.

Steve stares. Eddie talks. And it's the combination of a lifetime.

--------

❤️

[satzumosupremacy]

Elite Bodyguard Series: Pt.9

Embrace

Male reader x Jihyo

Tags: Sprinkle of fluff, Smut, Impregnation kink, Drunk sex, Quickie 6.8K Words

As you were required for an award show, the thought of Jihyo attending never crossed your mind, and you were unaware of her presence. Even though you were aware of her being there, you maintained professionalism by staying in the background and behind the cameras while the award ceremony unfolded.

As a bodyguard, you typically stand alert with earpieces, awaiting radio communication regarding potential threats. In contrast, many other security guards either monitor numerous cameras on large screens within designated rooms or actively patrol the hallways.

You find yourself observing Jihyo as she sits, fully immersed in the ceremony, seemingly unaware of your presence. However, as you sneak glances at her, a subtle discrepancy catches your attention, causing a growing sense of annoyance. Her smiles, perfectly timed for the cameras, contrast with a nonchalant, annoyed expression when the attention is not on her. It isn't until hours later that she finally rises and makes her way towards you near the door.

“Come out. We should talk, Oppa.”

“Let’s go to the hallway near the bathroom. There’s no cameras.”

“No wonder you get paid so much. Just scanning everything like a muscle memory,” she said, chuckling on the way to the bathroom. “Sometimes, I feel like you’re not human.”

“That really hurt, Jihyo,” you said playfully, “I didn’t know you would show up here. I saw your schedule, but coming here? That’s surprising.”

“Just curious to see. Since we both are here, maybe I’ll come over tonight instead.”

“Are you really curious, or was this an idea that you want to fall through and sleep on my bed?” You said, teasing Jihyo and staring at her gorgeous back.

“Who knows. How do I look?” Jihyo turns around for you and poses.

"You look beautiful in that black dress," you complimented with a warm smile, appreciating the way the dress accentuated her grace and style. Her face lit up with a grateful blush, and the simple yet heartfelt compliment added a touch of warmth to the night. But the way you knew how she looked under that dress turned you on more.

“My eyes are up here, Oppa.” She said, laughing softly, catching you staring at her gorgeous body, and cover her mouth with her hands. “I plan to leave, how about you?”

“I have to stay til the end.”

She sighs, “I’ll wait for you at your house.”

“Ask your manager to stay to keep you company. I don’t want you feeling alone in a big house," you said out of worry.

“We both live alone. It’s only right that both of us know how it feels. I’ll be fine, Oppa.”

You didn’t budge but ask her again, “stay with your manager until I’m home.”

"No," Jihyo playfully responded with a confident smile. It was impossible to disagree with her again after such assurance.

“Okay fine. But we should get going. I hear footsteps. Might be a security guard making his way around.” You never fail to surprise her with the smallest things, like hearing footsteps or blind spots that cameras won’t be able to see. 

She could only sigh, yet witnessing this more masculine aspect of you was truly one of her favorites. "Alright, I'll catch up with you later."

You nod and follow her back from a distance. The little dirty thoughts of knowing what she looks like under that dress turned you on even more. As time passes, your only option is to remain standing, communicating with the security room, while you observe the ending of the show hours later.

——

As you enter the garage and step out of the car, she hears you and promptly opens the door to welcome you. However, Jihyo doesn't utter a word; instead, she walks directly towards you and gently pins you to the wall after closing the door for you. In an instant, her lips meet yours, and she kisses you as if she has been longing for the passion you both shared the last time.

No greetings. Just getting straight to the point.

Despite both of your schedules today, the two of you wanted some relief, or better, the whole night that you both deserve after a long day. Her hands hang on your shoulders. As it continued from a genuine kiss to a more passionate one, your hands slowly trace her figure down to her hips, squeezing Jihyo’s ass.

“So damn aggressive, Oppa,” Jihyo said, smiling at you once the two of you made eye contact. "You're very, very handsome tonight."

“Fuck, you know how hot you look in that black dress?” You said, mouth inches apart, and shares of each other's warm breath.

“It’s hotter seeing you in all black, Oppa.”

“Sorry it took so long, Jihyo.” She didn’t respond and continued to kiss all over you lips down to your neck while you traced her curves, grabbing her ass for a tight squeeze again. “All mine for the night?”

“Oppa,” she said, gasping quietly, “remember…what I said to you at the start of all this?”

“What is it?” You said and turned around to pin her to the wall. Your hands never let go of her body and kept touching her with lust. She stares right at you, locking each other's eyes silently for a split second.

“Eat me. I never gave you a chance at the start. I know you’re tired of having the same thing each week.”

“Sana?”

“I never said no names.” She laughs, catching you off guard to start name calling. “Have me. Me for tonight. Eat me and hold me tight. I’ll please you too.”

“You know I won’t disappoint you, Jihyo.” And within an instant, you lift up her dress slightly to see that Jihyo didn’t have any panties on. She got you flustered, and you can only question her, “what’s going on? Don’t act like Sana. This is so not you at all.”

“Got too impatient waiting for you. Couldn’t help but play with myself for a while.”

“I kept you waiting, didn't I?" You then nod side to side with a gentle smile, "you don't have to anymore.” And you slowly trace between her crotch right onto her clit to feel how wet she has gotten. Curiously, you tap her pussy gently, just feeling a string of her juice stretch onto your fingers. “It’s very wet. Tell me what you were thinking while I was gone, Jihyo. Tell me everything. Tell me what we should do on this lovely tonight.”

She remains locked to your eyes, moaning ever so quietly as you rub her clit slowly. “I just,” she whimpers quietly, “want to be held in your arms and feel like I’m the only woman in the world.”

Unexpectedly, you felt some pity, some gratitude at the same time when she wants you, and only you to make her feel this way. Ever since the first time you fucked her, you never got a taste of her at all, but only get to feel how tight she really was, and with a smirk, you lick your fingers immediately once you pulled out to get a taste of Jihyo as she quietly looks at you for a compliment.

“May you cum on my face later?” You said, licking your lips and finger her again while Jihyo could only pant quietly.

You gaze at her, right in her eyes, and hear her beautiful voice, continuously fingering her even faster, deeper with another finger inside. “Oppa,” she moans and squeezes your shoulders, “I just want you.”

The difference between Jihyo at the award show and right in your house was vastly different. In the public eye, she shows confidence, smiling for cameras. Yet, in the private moments away from the spotlight, she seeks comfort, desiring to be held in your arms without the presence of cameras. Slowly tracing her body, you quickly lift her up and carry her to the couch with your hands on her ass.

“After a long day, we both deserve this time. Am I right, Jihyo?” You toss her on the couch and took the advantage of being on top to kiss her neck. She tilts her head in the opposite direction from your kisses to give you every space possible.

“Want to stay up for the night?” She quietly moans more from the feeling of your lips all over her neck.

“It’s been a long day, but if you want, we can. Staying up is simple.”

“Busy tomorrow? I don’t recall you being busy.”

“So many questions.” You said with a chuckle and pin her down harder, silently staring right into her eyes. Even avoiding Jihyo’s question, you are busy in the afternoon later, but rather not disappoint her.

“Eyes so seductive,” she complimented.

“Because I’m the one that you’ll have tonight.”

“Let’s go to the bedroom. Eat me, Oppa. Give me what I was missing out on.”

Before you even walk to the bedroom, you see a smile from her, brighter than you can clearly remember from today. Even though she brought a suitcase and seemed to be packing for a vacation, you willingly offered to carry her luggage. Regardless, you didn't pay any mind whether she intended to stay for just a night or several days.

“Oppa, why aren’t you asking about my luggage that I brought over?” Jihyo questioned while taking off her dress.

“I’m fine if you stay over. Let my house be your sanctuary and escape from reality. Whatever’s bothering you, just know I’m here.” You said, concerned nonchalantly, and subtly expressing empathy. Considering Twice's hectic schedules, including yours, it's evident that the members are likely burnt out.

In fact, you could sense something was on her mind at the start of the event when the cameras weren’t focused on her. But when she’s in the spotlight, it was all smiles—fake enough to make you notice the small differences from Jihyo. From just being an observant person, it made you worry for her.

“Oppa,” she said as you stare at her naked body, “thanks,” Jihyo said and you can see her smile fade away. You rather try to make her feel happy instead of knowing what’s on her mind, simply because you couldn’t relate to being an idol after all. But even if she hesitated to say what was on her mind, you wanted her to tell you regardless.

“Jihyo, the door is closed, and it’s only us two together.” You said, sugarcoating and encouraging her to open up comfortably. Despite the close bond within Twice, it's understandable that her leadership role comes with a sense of pride. You're aware that she might feel uneasy about sharing her thoughts with the other members.

“Oppa,” she said, hands out, inviting for a hug in front of you and you wrap your arm around her without a word, “I like the hospitality you give me."

"Feel free to express yourself. When we hug, I can't see your face, so just share what's on your mind, Jihyo." You gently pat her back, with her tits pressed against your chest. If Jihyo needed a shoulder to cry on, you would bring her in your arms without wanting her embarrassed.

“Our schedule was tough, wasn’t it, Oppa?”

“It was…kinda, Jihyo. It was.”

"Are we being too much for you? In a personal way?"

"No, not at all," you said simply.

“I’m just tired. I’m just exhausted. It’s just been rough for all of us including you, Oppa. I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t tell if she was crying or not, either way, you held her in tightly and warmly, her chin on your shoulders as if she was crying behind your back. “Did anyone tell you that you’re doing good? I’m very proud of you, Jihyo. Very.”

Your words had the power to bring tears to her eyes, whether from the struggles or from the sheer motivation it provided. Jihyo's joy was evident in the warmth of her cheeks against yours. However, you didn't realize that these were tears of happiness, or even seeing Jihyo shed a tear. As she held you even tighter, standing still, she embraced the heartfelt words you had given her.

“Want to drink? Celebrate after our busy schedules, Oppa? Just us two. We get along so well together.” Jihyo said out of the blue, smiling and wiping her tears secretly and gets down on her knees to kiss your body and pull your pants down with a mischievous smile.

“Jihyo,” you caressed her cheek and she sucks on your thumb for a tease. “Anyone told you that you look so beautiful today?”

“No..well, apart from my stylist and managers. Thanks.” Jihyo then kisses your tip, licking the bottom side to make your cock twitch on her tongue. "You deserve something, Oppa. And it's me."

“Not even a tease. Just getting straight into it, Jihyo.” It’s not like she can say anything back when you held her nape and pushing her gently down to deepthroat your cock slowly, which you groaned, “Jihyo.”

You fall back onto the bed. Jihyo’s little hum, moan, and her eyes that stared up to you, eased the tough day both of you had. You push her down even more to make Jihyo gag louder. The wet slurps her mouth made echoed in the bedroom, it was pure music to your ears while you closed your eyes. She smiled from the corner of her mouth all because of how pleasured you were. Even Jihyo missed the way your cock tasted and swallowed all the pre-cum that leaked out. You gently let go of her nape to give Jihyo some rest as she pulls off to take a deep breath.

“Think I’m finally realizing why Sana is so obsessed. Fuck,” Jihyo laughs, wiping the small mess on her lips. You decide to seduce her by pressing your thumb against her lips and make her suck on your thumb again.

You brush her hair by the ear just to see her face even clearer, “I love how dirty you can get when the time is right. Can you take it deeper?”

She smirks, “you think I can’t?”

“You’re a singer after all. I’m worried.”

“Studio session isn’t in a couple days. Plus, it’s not like this is our first time together.”

She continues to suck you off, from the tip, you can feel her tongue rubbing against it. You moan, grunting quietly while holding her nape and grip onto her hair, “Jihyo,” you couldn’t help but groan her name. “Fuck, just like that.”

Your breath becomes even heavier, deeper once she started to deepthroat you without any guidance. You feel some saliva drip down to your balls, to which she quickly licks your balls with a light chuckle, and the breath you felt. “Just cum if you can’t handle it. We have the whole night. Don’t be embarrassed, Oppa.”

She squeezes your cock, thumb teasing your tip in circular motion to make it twitch. And again, she doesn’t hesitate to suck you off when your cock is all hers tonight. “Jihyo,” you grunted, “slow down.”

And like she even listened, Jihyo pushes herself down even farther to take every inch when you felt her throat contract and chokes—hard, and pulls out to jerk you off. “Were you worried?”

“No shit.”

“How considerate,” she smirks and admires your cock. “May I get an appetizer? Then all of it inside somewhere else later?”

“If you really can’t wait to get eaten out.” Without hesitation, she sucks only your tip, swirling her tongue around it and under to make you gasp. The whole time, Jihyo sucks and teases your tip for your load of cum. You lean your head into the bedsheet even harder the more she focuses on your tip, and it is only the tip. Her head bobs quickly all in one area that got you tensed up, even making you grunt. “Jihyo. Jihyo.”

Your cock pulsates every bob she does, and it was too much for you to handle when all the focus is the tip of your cock. You would confidently say to yourself that her blowjobs were different than any women. Her soft, warm hands were on your lap, slowly and teasingly caressing your thighs.

“Fuck, Ji-” you said, grunting, cumming right in her mouth as she slows down to feel your cock pulsating. Jihyo didn’t expect how much she got you to cum and your cock didn’t stop pulsating to fill her mouth. Jihyo stopped bobbing for your own sanity. Seconds after, you rub your forehead with the palm of your hands just to come back to reality by what this woman just did—an overwhelming quickie that made her cheeks bloat with cum.

Jihyo awaits for you to look at her, soon as you did, she swallows your cum with your cock still in her mouth and pulls out. “This is just a thank you, Oppa,” she said, wiping her lips, licking her fingers, and brushing her hair to the side femininely.

And you couldn’t snap back into reality at all when it was just an overwhelming quickie.

“You’re so lucky that I rather savor the taste of you tonight. Otherwise, I might make you yell at the top of your lungs tonight.”

“Hey, maybe it’s good vocal practice for me.”

“Shut it.”

“Not if I can shut you up first by sitting on your face, Oppa.”

“Enough talking,” you chuckled and she quickly got up to take the chance to shut you up by sitting on your face while you’re laid down already. "Seems like the tables always turn when you're the one seducing me, Jihyo."

“Enjoy as long as you want.” Jihyo smiled, which you couldn’t see when her tits were in your view. You wrap your arms around her thighs, to where she can feel your biceps locking her in. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all to be on top."

You had enough talking when her pussy was right in your face and started with a simple tease to her inner thighs, closer, and closer to kiss her pussy and lick how wet she was already. You can barely hear her moan with her thighs covering your ears, but it is enough to make her squeal and jerk around while you finally get a taste of Jihyo. She digs into your scalp, unintentionally getting a pinch-like feeling out of it with her nails.

“Oppa,” she moaned with her irregular breathing and the small squirms you felt. “Fuck!”

With a grin on your face, you wanted her to regret what she didn’t let you do—eat her at the start of all of this. As you kept eating her out, you didn’t let Jihyo catch her breath but kept going like you wanted her to moan even louder. 

And she did start realizing and regret what she didn’t let you do.

Her pussy becomes even more wet with your saliva, also your mouth being a mess. Even if she squirms, your tongue stayed glued and gave her a bundle of sensations. You got her feelings on a rollercoaster with your arms around as her only seatbelt.

Jihyo’s body tenses, arching back and face up to the ceiling, then a erotic moan from her within the breaths she takes every second. She was at her limit, legs twitching and jerking, squirming everywhere like her body wanted to be free from your arms. You suddenly pause from eating her, “You’re not cumming anytime soon.”

She quickly catches her breath. “Oppa,” she said, panting and trying to control her breathing, “you have to let me lay down. I can’t handle this.”

“Free yourself.” Even if you knew thigh muscles were more powerful than arms, you cheated your way through by licking her pussy just so she couldn’t escape as she tried to, which she surrendered herself as you slowly savor Jihyo’s pussy.

She can only admire the view down below where your face was no where to seen but only your hair. “You eat me so fucking good.”

“You taste good, Jihyo.” And you press your tongue against her pussy, slowly up and down to devour her. You did free her however, only to grab onto her tits and gently squeeze them. Her toes curl up, every part of her legs tenses, and Jihyo couldn’t take it anymore by the way you’re eating her in all the right spots.

“Oppa, you’re gonna-” Your tongue circles around her pussy; from the clit, slowly down near her ass, you savor every part of what you’re getting tonight and for the next few days. Jihyo’s moans get louder, screaming and covering her mouth like she’s going to cum if you keep swirling your tongue around. “Oppa,” she groaned erotically and an accidental quick scream.

“Let me enjoy you for a bit longer, Jihyo,” you smiled and slowed down from eating her out. From her thighs, you kiss them passionately and made Jihyo chuckle. “I love your body, Jihyo. I really do.”

“My body goes well with yours, Oppa. You’re muscular, while I have everything you need from a woman’s body.”

“I wouldn’t deny it either. Want to change positions?” Jihyo didn’t answer as you released her from your arms. Once she lay down, you got on top of her and kissed her tits, then traced down her body to her stomach, and lastly, again to her wet pussy that you made a mess of. Jihyo’s legs leaned against your shoulders as you slowly licked her pussy. “How much longer can you take it, Jihyo?” 

“Fuck, it’s so sensitive right now. Stop torturing me so much, Oppa,” she laughs, and then moans with her back arching once she felt your tongue digging into her pussy. Jihyo squeezes her tits, moaning even deeper and breaths break into a stream of long pants.

Without a doubt, you wanted Jihyo to cum, not in the hardest way, but calm enough to make Jihyo feel all the sensations. “Cum for me, Jihyo,” you murmured without letting your mouth off of her pussy.

“Fuck!” She moaned loudly, legs jerking, body tensing as you only slowed down to hear her beautiful voice as Jihyo starts to cum. Her legs also pushed you back as you didn't budge but it wasn't enough for your tongue to let go of her clit. As she has her moment, you stare right at her, see Jihyo squeezing her tits when her head was buried deep into the pillow. “Ah!” She clenches her teeth quickly to be quiet at two in the morning and nods side to side once you sucked on her clit, then giving it a kiss as the cherry on top.

“Rest for a bit, then we can go back out.”

“Oppa,” Jihyo said, gasping for air while you waited for her to finish what she wanted to say. “Never mind.” Again, laughing in the most unexpected moments. What Jihyo wanted to say was that she loved how you eat her, but didn’t want to sound like an easy person to please.

You didn’t bother asking and laughed along with Jihyo. “Should we put on some clothes and go to the living room?”

“Mhmm,” she said, smiling with her eyes closed after getting eaten out. You take Jihyo’s hand and made her get up from the bed to dress comfortably. She puts on a shirt—without her bra, panties, and sweatpants that she got out her luggage.

You both leave the bedroom and head to the kitchen. You decide to cut some fruits to arrange on the table. Jihyo, being familiar with the layout of your house, goes to fetch a wine bottle, a couple of beers, and a half bottle of whiskey. As you're busy cutting strawberries and mangoes, you notice her walking back and forth with drinks. Feeling a bit puzzled by the amount she's taking, you chuckle and only look at her. "Jihyo, I don't want you to get too drunk."

“Don’t worry, these are just extras that we might take some sips with.”

You chuckle in a surprised tone, “Sips? I know how you are, Jihyo. Remember when you threw up on my bathroom floor and Nayeon had to clean it?”

“Oppa, stop overreacting. This is a small party for the two of us.”

“Fine. I’ll take care of you if you get drunk tonight then.”

“I won’t get drunk.” She said coming out of the small room that you store all the alcoholic drinks in. You watched as she came out with the final bottle—the whiskey. Jihyo lifted the bottle triumphantly, a smile that she couldn't hide but got to drink with you. "Oppa, this was the bottle that Tzuyu was so adorable after taking a few shots."

“I remembered.” You said, continuing to cut the fruits as Jihyo leans over the counter to patiently look at you cut the fruits. “Mind handing me a plate, Jihyo?”

She hands you a plate and rest her elbow on the counter to look at you. “You look so hot using a kitchen knife.”

You pause, setting aside the task of cutting the last pieces of strawberries, and glance at her. "Are you already drunk?"

“No,” she laughs, “fine, don’t take the compliment then.”

“Fine, don’t take the compliment then,” you playfully mocked her. “Go have a seat, Jihyo. I’ll be there in a few seconds.”

“Need some help? I’ll carry the other plate.” You decide to give her the plate of mangoes and walk behind her to the living room. As soon as she sits, you turn on the lamp and open the blinds slightly to set a calm mood with the night sky in the view.

“Jihyo, I’ll be busy in the afternoon. Hope that’s okay with you.”

“It’s fine. Do what you have to do.”

“Call Jeongyeon or anyone to come over and have some fun while I’m away.”

“It’s alright. I’ll most likely sleep until you come home.” She said, picking up the fork and eating a slice of mango while she contemplates to choose which bottle of alcohol to open.

You glance at the clock on top of the tv—three-thirty in the morning, and look back at Jihyo munching on a strawberry as she makes eye contact with you. “Open the whiskey and let’s have a drink, Jihyo.”

She gladly grabs the whiskey and places it on her chest, tits mashing onto it to give her some leverage. “Oppa,” she said, struggling, “it’s too tight. Can you open it?”

“Gimmie,” you said and twisted the cap easily to pour it into the shot glass. "I might have closed it too tight," you laughed.

“Cheers!” Jihyo said, clinging to each other’s glass and smiling at you before taking the shot. After taking the shot, she sits closer, enough for your thigh to touch hers. You didn’t mind at all. Besides, she feels safer with you than being alone in her apartment. You could clearly tell by her actions.

“Oppa, is Sana getting in the way of you and Tzu?”

“No. Not at all. Why?”

“Sana keeps talking about you in the group chat.”

“Sexually?”

“You know, the way you fuck her. She loves it to the point of sharing with everyone in the chat. Did you know that?”

“Tzu told me a little. But I can’t do anything about it.”

“But how did all of this start? The weekly thing with Sana.” Majority of the members knew that Sana was over every week, but they didn’t know it all started as Jihyo wondered. Which, you couldn’t really come up with an exact answer to.

“It just happened that way. It’s Sana, Jihyo.”

“She's hot, isn't she? I would understand if I were you. Another shot?” She said excitedly. “C’mon, we have all night to ourselves.”

“You’re such a bad influence. Did you forget I’m busy in the afternoon?”

“Wait..then..shouldn’t you sleep? Fuck, we don’t have to this. Maybe next time? Tomorrow night? Or the next?”

“Did you forget? I’m not a human like you said.”

“I didn’t mean it, Oppa. But I think you should sleep instead of staying up with me.” She said with her hands on her chest to show her sincerity.

"It's okay," you say as you take a bite of mango from your fork.

“No, seriously. I think we should just go to sleep. I'll give you something special once we wake up."

“You wanted to stay up. It’s too late to turn back, Jihyo. Let’s just continue."

——

One shot after another, laughter and the clinking of glasses echoed in the air. After an hour, Jihyo's face had turned red. The effects of alcohol were beginning to take her, not just on her, but on you as well. The half-empty bottle of whiskey was completely drained, and she had switched to beer and wine. You couldn't help but anticipate the potential things alcohol would do to her.

“You ever thought of putting a baby in me?” Jihyo said unexpectedly and picked up her cup of beer to take a big gulp.

Even after she spoke, you found yourself at a loss for words. Your mind scrambled to form a response, “I think you’re drunk, Jihyo,” you said, avoiding her question.

“I’m not.” And she gets on top of you, staring right into your eyes, “you never avoid my questions, but is it because it’s too early to talk about this?" Then she tilts her head to the right, "wouldn't you like to see what we created after nine months if we get a chance?"

You discreetly checked her wrist for a pulse, which was beating irregularly due to the alcohol she had consumed. As the room fell silent, you found yourself unable to answer but have to be direct.

“We aren’t in love, Jihyo.” You said, forcing yourself to draw a line between both of you in the most gentle way possible.

“I know we aren't, but it doesn’t change the fact that you would have gotten me pregnant at the start if I wasn’t on a pill.”

“Jihyo,” you chuckled and all flustered, “I mean, I probably would have gotten you pregnant when we first fucked, wouldn’t I?”

"Hey, let's work something out." And she gets closer to your ear, "promise me something. If the stars align, or once everything settles down, I don't want us two to just be all business.”

As confused as you are about what she said, you think she’s clearly drunk saying nonsense things, and at the same time, you were getting buzzed. Perhaps it's because Jihyo is sitting right on top of you, looking hotter than she looked in the dress you saw tonight.

Jihyo is consistently the one who takes the lead in seducing you. She's the woman who effortlessly maintains the conversation, even as you sneak a glance at the clock—five-fifteen in the morning. "J-Jihyo…"

She puts her finger on your lips to shut you up. “I might be drunk, but what I’m saying is what I think of you other than our bodyguard. I may regret what I say once the sun is already up.” And her finger never left your lips. “Shhh. I can’t stand you looking at me so hot.” You stare at her silently, and she rolls up her shirt to only cover you in it with her tits right in your face. The feeling of her tits was warm; they were soft like a pillow. Only you would be able to kiss and suck on them as she held you in without much force but a smile, seeing you under her shirt. You felt her pulse as you explored each side of her tits with your mouth. 

As you sucked on her nipple, you could only think of what she was saying while you were also slowly getting buzzed by how fast your heart was beating. It’s all confusing—the atmosphere, the way Jihyo was pleading you for something in return, and even her grinding on your cock got you to endlessly think of an answer. 

"Let’s take things slowly," she moaned. “Forget the bed. Let’s do it here first. I can’t stand it anymore,” she whispered with a heavy breath. “I love it when you give my tits attention. I love it so fucking much. I love the way you touch and kiss them.”

You didn’t answer at all when all the attention she gave you was her tits. Seconds later, Jihyo decides to take off her shirt and mash both sides of her tits hard on your face. With a chuckle being heard from Jihyo, she found it cute, so much so to get her even wet and make her panties damp from how turned on she was. 

“Oppa,” she moaned from feeling you flicking your tongue on her nipple, and lift you from her tits. You stare right in her eyes, silently seeing how turned on she was. “Let me do you a favor and take off your clothes. May I?”

“I’m not stopping you, Jihyo.”

“You’re really killing me. So damn good.”

“Enough talking. More fucking.”

What you didn’t expect was when she turns off the lamp right beside the couch. Only the moonlight lit the house from the big glass windows and the small faint light from the kitchen. You were enchanted in her spell, seduced and doing it on purpose was one thing—only to see how far Jihyo can seduce you. She slowly takes off your clothes and plant kisses to your neck. “I know you’re loving this, Oppa.”

“I am.”

“Your lips look bored,” Jihyo said. At this point, there was no going back when she’s so drunk right on top of you. Her tone’s different and seductive. You didn’t even bother asking why Jihyo started whispering with no one else in the room except for you. The smell of beer and whiskey lingered from each other’s breath.

Then that would be the last conversation between you two once she quickly takes off her pants and slides her panties to the side. Jihyo puts your cock inside her. Both of you moan quietly when Jihyo sits down and your cock disappears deep inside her pussy. You never forgot how tight and wet Jihyo can get. She never forgot the way your cock stretched her walls, and the way your cock throbs and pulsates is a compliment to Jihyo. She puts her arm on your shoulders, leaning closer to kiss you as she grinds slowly, gradually quickening the pace every second to find a good rhythm. 

Your breath gets heavier, breathing right into each other’s mouth and fighting to be the dominant kisser, to the point where you would be the one. All the problems she told you about disappeared because she got what she had been desperate for. After a long day, Jihyo wanted the night to be long until the morning, and you did the right thing to grant her wish—fucking each other until sunrise. 

And she found the perfect rhythm to ride you. You grabbed her ass, groping it while you wanted to help her ride you without Jihyo being the one putting in the work. She couldn’t be happier than tonight. Because of you, Jihyo smiled, cried happily, and even gotten to talk to you in the most genuine way before sex.

She felt like the only woman in the world.

The atmosphere turned hotter when Jihyo moaned right in your ear to turn you on even more. You gave her ass a couple gentle slaps, firmly grabbing them every second you could. She decides to free you from her hug and grabs onto the side of your face to look at each other. The deadly and lustful stares she gave you made your heart race even faster. 

“Jihyo,” you groaned. Your breathing becomes the heaviest whenever she takes your cock deeper. “Fuck, Jihyo,” and you get a whiff of her neck, kissing and biting it softly to make her moan more seductively.

“Oppa,” she moaned. “Ugh…mhmm, I can feel it throbbing inside.” Jihyo hugs you in right between her tits again. You knew what to do and sucked on her nipple, making her groan seductively in the dark living room. “Let’s go to the room. Fuck me and cum deep inside me. Imagine what we’ll be doing in a couple years, right in the same bed.”

“Such dirty thoughts, Jihyo.” You carry her into the bedroom with your cock still inside. Gently, you fall right onto the bed and penetrate her deeper, pushing onto her thighs the hardest like she wanted. You put her legs together, and she held onto them, assuming that’s what you wanted. With a grin, you penetrated her pussy with each thrust. Your cock in and out of her pussy just to pump and dump the load she will get. Her moans got more erotic, screaming with a visible smile from the corner of her mouth. 

“You’re so fucking deep in me,” she murmured and gasped. Also, Jihyo couldn’t hold her legs any longer because of how deeply you were penetrating her tight walls. Jihyo’s leg became weak as if her body had surrendered to you for the better. “Oppa,” she moaned, bursting into a sudden scream, and starts to cum with her legs tensely shaking as she grabs onto your arm to hold.

You didn’t stop at all but thrust harder and faster, as deep as you could get inside Jihyo, and she screamed at the top of her lungs. You lean closer and push her abdomen down with your hands just to make her scream louder, all while making her feel like your cock reached to her stomach. Jihyo covers her mouth with two of her hands, leaning back into the pillow to feel the sensation of you deep inside her. But when sex became this passionate and words were barely spoken, you couldn’t hold out any longer when Jihyo begged to have it all. She deserved it. 

You grunt, taking a deep breath, knowing that you’re going to cum. And you do so without telling her at all. She already knew. Jihyo got what she wanted tonight. You grab onto her tits and squeezing them to your desires as you dump every drop of cum deep into her with her thighs being pressed onto yours. 

Both of you catch a breath quietly, she holds onto your hand that’s squeezing her tits, and caresses you slowly. “Oppa,” she said, totally exhausted, unable to finish her words.

“Fuck, what time is it?” You wondered, glancing out the window as Jihyo locks you in with her leg around your hip. The sky was no longer as dark, signaling the early stages of dawn. It felt like time had skipped, and you realized you had completely misjudged the hours.

As time distracted you, Jihyo turns you back to her with her hands on your cheek, “how did this turn out so damn passionate?” She laughs cutely and softly with a smile that you can see more clearly. “Oppa,” and she hugs you tightly, squeezing you in, chest against chest. Without completing her intended words, all she can express is gratitude through this heartfelt hug.

Without a doubt, you both were tired from the alcohol and fucking. Jihyo decided to pepper you with kisses, and you thought it was excessive of her. “Your bed is so comfortable, Oppa.” 

“And it’s also where you’re going to sleep for the next few days too. Better not go to sleep. Don’t you want to see the sunrise?”

“Mhmm.”

You get off of her to lay beside her, together facing at the window naked, and slowly see the sunrise in the distance. “Jihyo,” you said silently.

“Yes, Oppa?”

“Sober now?”

“Did I mistakenly say something? Fuck..”

From her response, it became evident that she harbored some kind of feeling that you don’t know. The words that she said when drunk was for sure something she has been thinking about you. It’s always alcohol getting the best out of Jihyo. “You didn’t say anything wrong,” you said, assuring and hiding the words that she may be embarrassed of.

What you were unaware of is that she never saw you merely as Twice's bodyguard; rather, she can envision a future with you. It was only her pride that held her back. The only method she could think of to bring herself closer to you was through her discreet approach of spending several days with you, hoping to witness a different side of you. As the sun continued to rise, she closed her eyes with a pleasant smile.

"Jihyo," you softly whisper, "Jihyo?" And you gently lean in to catch a glimpse of her. She's fast asleep, peacefully resting with your arm wrapped around her, providing a comforting embrace.

Despite you assuming that she was sleeping, she pretended to sleep. Jihyo knew you were busy later and wanted to ensure you had some time to rest. You fell quickly asleep, wrapping your arms around her, and she couldn't help but blush at the warmth of your body gave off after fucking.

After several minutes of you completely knocking out, Jihyo slowly removes your arm off of her and quietly leaves the bedroom all naked to clean up the small mess you both left in the living room. She returns the beer and wine to their original places, disposing of the empty whiskey bottle and extra cans of beer in the recycling bin. The clothes that both of you wore were placed in the laundry, ready for her to wash once you've left the house.

The sun reached its peak, casting a warm glow as Jihyo returned to bed and held you in to her tits as a pillow. “Oppa, I think I like you more than what we currently are.” She confessed quietly, embarrassed to face you knowing that you didn’t feel the same.

[russellsppttemplates]

That’s bullshit if I’ve heard of any (Lando Norris)

Lando finally had enough of seeing you hurt like that

Note: english is not my first language. I've been writing this one for a little bit and today felt like the day to finish it ✨️ this also felt close to home, but good to write it out, too!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: reader's self-doubt and low self esteem, loneliness, curse words, mentions a bad date with a rude person

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Are you sure you want me to come over?", you asked your best friend over the phone, refusing to accept that he had no better plans for his Friday night now that he was not racing.

"Is this your way of telling me you don't want to come over? Because that's fine, I'll stay in - are you going somewhere though? Like a date?", Lando said over the phoneline.

"Bold of you to assume I would have plans, and with a date nonetheless", you muttered, "all I'm saying is if you have something better to do, you should go do it!", you explained, not wanting to get into the topic too deeply.

"There's nothing better than spending time with my bestfriend! Do you need me to pick you up or do you feel comfortable driving at this time of night?", he wondered, "I'll be there in 10 then", you chatted off, ending the call.

Looking around your room, you found clothes that were both comfortable and presentable in case, with your usual luck, you were pulled over by the police and had to come out of your car.

Lando finally had some time off before the season began and he wanted to spend it with you. While you were usually able to fly out to most of the European races and even travel the long distance to other race tracks, this season you had more responsibilities to juggle between your internship, your studies and your family.

He arranged the pillows on the sofa and brought out your favourite snacks, getting his place ready while occupying the time until you rang his doorbell, walking up to the door so he could let you inside, "hey!", he greeted, excited to finally have you with him after weeks where you both had been busy.

"Hey", you said, nudging his hip slightly with yours as you went to the shoe cabinet, leaving your shoes there and putting on your slippers you kept at his house.

Following him silently to the living room, you watched him sit down as you took in the comfort his place made you feel.

"You're not okay", Lando stated, "I noticed when we were on the phone".

"So this is a pity visit?", you wondered, "That's why you called me over?", you grumbled, feeling the blush erupt on your cheeks along with a little annoyance.

"I never said that! I, I called you and then noticed you weren't okay! Scoot, scoot, I got a tray full of goodies for us to eat", Lando urged, pushing the blanket to the side so you could get in the warm cocoon he created with the soft fabric along with pillows in various shapes and sizes you had insisted he needed to make the place feel more home-y.

"Are you going to talk about what's on your mind or do you want to watch this new show in silence?", he wondered, pointing the remote at the TV.

"I don't want to talk about it, not now anyway", you grumbled, finding your perfect position as you laid against your bestfriend, his arm going around your shoulders as you snuggled your legs under the blanket.

The new show ended up involving a romantic couple which only heightened your feelings. Lately, it was all you could see. Everyone around you seemed to have something romantic going on and they were happy with it. One of your friends was even convinced that she would be proposed to within the next few months, and you were single. Soon enough after you entered these thoughts, they pulled you to questions like why won't people love me? why am I single? what is it that doesn't attract people to me? and the one that you had yet to find a proper answer to, the list becoming too long for your own good am I unlovable?

"Can we watch something else, please?", you asked after debating for a few minutes wether or not you should interrupt, "I'm sorry, but I'm not enjoying it that much", you mumbled.

"That's okay, Y/N, I'll just put on one of our reruns", he smiled, changing the streaming platform and looking for the square on the screen, "if you want to just lay here, that's fine, too", he encouraged.

"At least I'm not alone with my thoughts", you mumbled again, looking at the ceiling as Lando moved his neck to join you, "I'm not sure what you mean, but I'm here for you anyway", he squeezed your hand that found its way to his own.

"It's just, - I've been reflecting? I don't even know if that's the word, but I've been feeling lonely", you blurted, still unsure if you were voicing all of it.

Lando hummed, urging you to continue, "like, I'm craving to have somebody there for me, someone who I know is in my corner, who I feel totally comfortable with. My brother was telling me all about the stuffed bunny his girlfriend asked him to take care off! I want that with someone", you pouted.

Lando tensed, rearranging his position on the sofa to look at you softly as you kept looking at his white ceiling.

"Maybe I should be less opinionated, less vocal about what I think and feel", you mused.

You'd lose your essence, Lando thought as he heard you rant on and on about the traits you wanted to change about yourself.

"Changing something physical is harder, but maybe I can change that, right? Be a bit quieter with what I say, measure my opinions, say yes and agree with things more", you shrugged, shaking the whole thing off of your body, wanting to rid yourself of the thought, "I can't, I won't be able to do that, they'd notice it straight away", you sighed.

As the night went on, Lando quickly changing the subject, you spoke about anything that came to mind until you looked at your watch, "Fuck, it's so late, I have to go", you stood up quickly, bending to pick your slippers up from the floor when he stopped you, "stay in the guest bedroom for tonight. Sleep here", he tried.

"Is it because I said I was lonely? I was just venting it out, you don't need to worry about me being a loner", you tried your best to assure it.

"No, you muppet. I'm doing it because I don't like the idea of you having to drive all the way back at this time of night", he reasoned, getting up himself and walking with you to the guest bedroom.

"Is this still made from the last time I was here?", you wondered, looking at the sheets.

"I made it before you came here! And I've washed the sheets, thank you very much. You have a fresh bed to sleep on", he smiled charmingly.

"Thanks", you smiled back, grabbing the clothes you usually wore to sleep when you stayed over from the drawer, "those have been washed, too", he pointed, "if you need anything, I'm in my usual spot", he winked, "Good night, Y/N, sleep tight!".

"Thanks for this", you gestured, "Good night, Lando", you said before he saluted you playfully, closing the door behind him.

Using the ensuite for your night routine, you changed into the shorts and Lando's t-shirt, noticing that all of the washes had made it smell less of his cologne and more of the scented fabric softener he uses.

The t-shirt fit snug against your hips, embracing your curvy body as you got under the sheets, letting the weight of them lull you to sleep and slow down your thoughts.

.

Lando was driving to a restaurant he knew well enough. He had had a few dates there before, one team dinner and a few family birthdays too whenever they were in town.

But right now, he was picking you up. From a date that apparently wasn't going well since he got a text from you asking him to pick you up.

"Hey, gorgeous girl", he said once he opened the car window as he parked in front of the restaurant, thankful that it wasn't too busy and no one seemed to notice or care that he was there.

"Thanks for picking me up", you mumbled as you sat down, pulling on your seatbelt and nothing your bestfriend's gaze on you, silently questioning you.

"He was an asshole", you explained, "kept asking me if I was sure of what I was doing, if I knew any Formula One drivers - don't worry, didn't out anything - and then he just kept being rude to me, to the waiter, who was wonderful by the way".

"I didn't mean him. I don't care about him, I care about you", Lando said, driving back to his place, assuming you'd want to have someone close by that wouldn't ask too many questions.

"It was just another one where it didn't go well", you mumbled, letting your head rest on the window and looking out at the lights illuminating the city.

"Do you want to go to my place?", Lando asked, knowing you wouldn't want to be pushed about the subject, "yes, please", you said.

As soon as you got inside his place, you took your shoes off, walking up to the spare bedroom to leave your bag in there, "thank you for picking me up, you're the best, Lando", you smiled as you rested against the door frame.

"No worries, okay? Sleep tight, I have good plans for tomorrow so this will be out of your mind", he smiled a small one.

"Night night, Lando", you said back, closing the door behind you and letting the tears finally fall.

It was horrible. The way he treated other people should have been the first clue and red flag, but somehow it still surprised you how he conducted the whole date. You weren't expecting a prince or a gentleman, but you expected human decency and it turns out you were not afforded that. He kept leaving snarky comments about his exes. He was rude, sexist and definitely not your type, and after splitting the bill, you informed him that someone would come to pick you up.

Could someone be unlovable? Not worthy of love to the point where anyone they attracted to their presence just wasn't a match and they had to be content with the bare minimum?

Splashing some water on your face and wiping it with the towel, you took one good look in the mirror. It looks like it's going to be you for a while, so you might as well get used to it, Y/N.

.

When morning rolled around, Lando was the first to wake up, getting ready and heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the two of you. He wanted to make something special, because even though you had your tough shell on yesterday, he knew you were feeling it deeply and painfully.

This quest of yours was doing you more harm than good. And it wasn't helping him either. For a few years, Lando figured, he has loved you. At first, it wasn't a clear sentiment. You were best friends, obviously there was a deeper connection. But then it felt so much all the time, there was never a break for the butterflies on his stomach or for the jealous green eyed monster whenever you so much as mentioned anyone else. He wouldn't dare say it, but he's so glad your date last night sucked.

As he prepared your coffee, your footsteps approached, "Good morning", you croaked out. You looked like you hadn't slept well, which Lando figured was a given considering the heard you move a lot during the night.

"Good morning, I made this for you. The balcony had nice sunlight right now, I figured you'd enjoy breakfast there", he attempted, bringing a small smile to your lips as you thanked him for the mug, "I'll bring the rest shortly", he called.

As you looked out to the always busy streets, you took in their quickness and rush. How it was all fleeting and momentary.

Lando placed the tray on the table, arranging it so you both could reach everything.

"I heard you crying last night", he began, his fist clenched at the memory as he sat down.

"I'm fine", you shrugged.

"I don't think you are, and I don't want you to suffer, Y/N", he insisted, unusually bold considering he knew which territory he was stepping into.

"It's not easy to come to terms with the fact that I'm single and that it might look like that for a bit, and who even knows how long that 'bit' might actually be", you chuckled, looking at him expecting his understanding gaze but being face with furrowed brows instead along with a scoff. "What? It's not like I'm being unreasonable, I'm just stating the facts", you squinted.

"That's not how it works, and you know that Y/N", he sternly spoke, straightening his back and facing you completely.

It was your time to laugh and scoff a little, "unless something changes within me, I'm sure this is how I'll find myself in the foreseeable", you shock your head.

"All of those things you want to change about yourself? Or that you say you should change to make you more likeable and lovable? That's dimming your light and your spark", Lando bit back, having had enough of it, "if someone loved you after all of those changes, they wouldn't love you for who you are, they would love a fabricated version of you. You're not unlovable", he smiled at the irony of it all. How after all these years, he still hadn't plucked up the courage to tell you how he felt about you.

"How can you say that when you have everyone falling at your feet? Women see you and they're ready to have anything you'll give them! You don't have to change who you are because someone made you feel like you couldn't be loved because of who you are and what you do!", you bit back, sensing a tone in him that was unusual and certainly not comfortable.

“I just need to know who the fuck told you you don’t deserve to be loved, because I’m about to beat their asses up", Lando called, elbows supported on the chair's arms as he looked at you.

"No one's ever told me, I'm probably the one saying it to myself, the rest of the people just make me feel like I'm unlovable, so if you want to hit me, I would prefer you didn't, I bruise quite easily", you tried to joke, not wanting to let your mind wander to the parallel utopian reality where your bestfriend feels the same way about you.

"Then it's all the people that made you feel unloved", Lando said, "none of them deserved a second of your attention, but I can give them a second of mine just for that".

“That’s a lot of people you’re gonna have to beat up, then, and I’m not sure if I want to bail you out of jail for that. We can't all have full bank accounts like yours", you joked again, watching him as he kept on with the subject.

"Stop joking about this! I'm being serious with you, Y/N! You deserve all of the love in the world - and even that wouldn't be enough!", he got up.

“Please, I think we have both realised and reached the conclusion that maybe I’m just not meant to be loved", you added.

“That’s bullshit if I’ve heard of any! No one’s not meant to be loved. There’s someone out there for you, and I think I’ve made it clear that, if it’s really not anyone else, then that someone’s me”, he stopped in front of you. There it was. Out in the open for everyone to hear. His balcony was covered and closed, something he was grateful about as he confessed his love for you.

"You can't joke about this", it was your turn to mention it, getting up as he took your hand in his.

"I'm not, Y/N, I'm really not", he whispered, resting his forehead in yours.

"Kiss me", you pleaded. He was quick to comply to your request, hand cupping your cheek as he tasted the bitter coffee from your lips and felt you unravel to him in a way he didn't think was possible anymore.

"I have loved you for so long, Lando", you whispered once you pulled away for air, "and I couldn't imagine a world where anyone would love me back, let alone you", you admitted, looking into his beautiful orbs.

"You don't have to make any effort to imagine it anymore, baby. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere. You're so loved and I'll be damned if I don't show you how much everyday of our lives", he smiled, kissing your lips again as your hands travelled to his messy curls.

[simpjaes]

how about jealousbf!heeseung who takes you to the empty soundproof vocal rooms and stuffs you full with no mercy after you looked at jay a little too much while they were doing their dance practice

tags: front man heeseung, wannabe groupie reader, he's not her bf !! non idol au, they're just in a band !!

wc: 1k

looking at jay was never an issue until heeseung was looking at you.

who would blame you though? it's not your fault Sunghoon always brought you to band practices. it's not your fault that Heeseung never really paid attention to you before they managed to finesse their way onto a label.

then again, it's not like you knew that Heeseung was always looking. You always seemed to share a gaze between him and everyone else too, so it wasn't really a competitive thing until he noticed you consistently looking at jay more and more.

Hah, always the fucking guitar players too. What do they have that he doesn't? Aside from skilled fingers?

Arguably, Heeseung's fingers are quite skilled too. Just because he's the front man doesn't mean he can't fuck like a guitarist.

So, well, it all really started when you didn't show up. It's rare that you don't, honestly, and all the members seem to miss you when you're not there but man.

Jay sure is a fucking asshole.

"I think she wants me." He joked that one day, nudging Sunghoon and watching them both nod in confirmation that yeah, it's probably true.

"I could take her into one of the soundproof rooms, none of you would even know." he said on that same day, giving Heeseung the idea to do it first.

After all, it's not like he hasn't seen you disappear into sticky bathrooms or dingy band van's at several small town shows with other bands and their members. Why would he be any different? Why would Jay be any different?

Exactly. You're a wannabe groupie and Heeseung is far too willing to feed into your fantasy of fucking a rock star now rather than later.

Jay likes the chase. Heeseung likes the hunt.

And so, that next "practice?" Of course you showed up. Bright eyes, slutty outfit, doe eyes blinking in awe at a bunch of guys who haven't even debuted past a burned CD with shit sound quality? Heeseung approaches you.

Being the front man and all, it's not hard to get you alone as the members take their time doing their own work on the new song. Heeseung's vocals were all finished, and Jay was too wrapped up in his guitar solo recording to notice you eye fucking him again.

"Welcome back, we missed you last time." Heeseung starts in a sweet voice, opening his arms out for a hug.

You kind of quirk your brow at him because, well, you've known the dude for like two years by this point but never has he done more than an awkward side hug while covered in sweat and the scent of musk and alcohol after a show or a hard practice session.

"Oh?" You question, surprised by the grip he holds on you.

"Wanna come with me somewhere?" He asks again, even though the question felt more like a demand in the way he immediately starts dragging you away from the recording studio and into the hallway.

You don't really say much, being more of a go-with-the-flow person than anything. You just shrug, following him into what you obviously know is one of the sound proof rooms they've used previously to practice the noise music.

Working out the kinks of a song doesn't always sound so good, yknow? Nobody really wants to hear that shit til it's ready either.

And it's not like you're stupid or anything. You know what this is, when he steps inside and closes the door behind you. In fact, you're entirely down for it despite not really knowing why the band's front man suddenly wants to be alone with you.

"Hah," Heeseung smirks, watching you already start to slip your shirt off. "I knew it."

You just kind of look at him.

"Well, what else would I expect after being dragged in here?" You ask, pausing your movements and allowing your shirt to fall back into place against your waist.

"I don't know?" He laughs back, rolling his eyes at you briefly before boxing you up against the wall. "Jay?"

You smirk.

"Honestly? Yeah. We've been eye fucking each other for ages." You laugh, brushing Jay off entirely. "Didn't expect you to be the one to come after me."

"Well, if you would have stopped staring at his fingers for thirty seconds maybe you would have noticed it."

"What can I say? He moves fast."

"And you think I would? You've seen what I can do with my tongue, right?"

You pause, noting all those instances during shows where he definitely treated his tongue like some sort of mating ritual. Licking up his microphone, flicking it between his fingers, even going as far as flattening it at multiple city girls that seemed to want a bad boy for the night.

"Don't think I have, actually." You roll your eyes playfully, blinking at him innocently. "Care to elaborate?"

Man, he elaborated.

Without another word, actually. Which was a bit of a shock to you, considering he likes to rasp those vocals all night through song and shrieks. Ah, the sounds are so much different vibrating when his tongue is buried into you, moving faster than you'd have expected.

What's worse? You never really noticed how pretty his vocals could sound until he was muttering out words of degradation towards you. He went in raw, explaining that it's his right. That he should be the first to feel your pussy squeeze him dry. Whispers questions of how many other men have been in you like this. Asking if you've always been this breathless for them. Asking why you're not screaming loud enough for Jay to hear, even through the soundproof room.

In reality, your throat is dry from allowing yourself to be loud for him. Rasping and panting confirmations of his filthy words, only to feel him plunge into you harder, harder, harder. Like a mantra of a song he only wishes he could write.

The proof of having you before Jay could, the proof of fucking you better than anyone else could.

By the end of it all, to Heeseung? Doesn't really matter if every other member of his band has a turn with you know. He's only gonna ask what his dick tastes like. He's only gonna ask if they fucked you cross eyed too. Because he knows the answer will be no.

Why?

Because you keep coming back for more. Up until Jay takes note, mentioning a month later to Sunghoon, right there in front of everyone,

"What's gotten into her? She practically ignores me."

And of course Heeseung smirked, giving him the answer he probably didn't want to hear.

"Me."