#I hope u don’t mind me giving long answers

[aaksuitac]

[04:24 am] “what are we?”

wc: 2.3k

a/n: [fluff viktor brainrot thanks to @dilemmars. t dije q me vengaría baby, así q zas, un payback por tus podcasts jdjfjjsd. hope u like cause its ur fault]

he’s humming something you don’t quite understand, a distant tune that sounds familiar —probably you’ve heard him sing it before—, and even if you don’t recognize the melody aside from that, you can’t help but appreciate it.

his hands fidget with whatever he can reach as he sighs once more, as if he was stealing breaths from the world, heavy, almost as lidded as his eyelids. his hair falls on his eyes and in between his slender fingers while he curls the untamed strands, and you fall into an endless pit of staring at him as he scribbles, grunts, sighs, and finally pinches the bridge of his nose.

“statistically speaking, i’m starting to feel like the chances of me getting this right are adversatively proportional to the chances of you accidentally swallowing a fly.”

and you just blink, once, then twice.

he stares at you, gives you a pointed look. he can’t really say if you understood that you were just staring at him with your mouth parted, but you squint at him, snickering.

“what,” his low voice fails to ask, unbothered, knowing that you’ll answer regardless.

and you do, answering. “you haven’t even uttered a word in a while. i was just surprised that you could still talk, is all,” you grin cheekily, playing with a screw on the table as you turn left and right on the chair you’re sitting on.

viktor looks at you, and he can’t help but crack a smile. point for you.

“what you laughing for, mhh, mister science?”

“isn’t it enough to bother me from the moment i get inside the lab in the morning that you need to do it at night too?” he pretends seriousness, side-eyeing you teasingly.

“fair enough. i will consider your offer, man of fleeting memory, and take it upon myself to bother you longer.”

his mean stare wouldn’t even make a kitten mewl, but you take you hand to your heart, pretending to be wounded.

“don’t look at me like that! you’ll hurt my feewings,” you pouted, much to his amusement.

“fleeting memory?” he scoffs, accent rolling off his tongue. “when’s the last time you lost a hairtie, mmh?” he mocks.

“unfair!” you can’t help but giggle as you pretend to hide your hair from his view. point for him. “besides. i take better care of my hair than you do of yours.” you pouted smuggly. “mine looks prettier.”

“what?” he finally asks, letting out a chuckle this time as his eyes land on you for the first time in the good part of an hour.

you play with your hair to style it, and funnily pose, hands on your cheeks as you lay your elbows on the table.

“what, don’t I look pretty?” you smiled, letting out a cheeky giggle.

yes. he doesn’t say it, but his eyes haven’t dodged back to his papers just yet. it’s another point for you. so very pretty.

he doesn’t dare. he knows it. his mind, or at least the small portion of his mind that still ties him with the occasional reminder that he’s human, looks at you and wants you in a way that he’s never wanted before.

so viktor resolves in looking at you. maybe only for a moment, maybe only on those fragments of time when he’s tired enough that he looks at the stars and at the moon, yearning to reach them, only to think he’ll miss the moonlight, finally blinking to the realization that he had been staring into your eyes for too long.

his eyes are dull as he stares at you, and your expression of worry at the fact makes his heart skip a beat. “viktor?” you mumble, softly, sleepily, warily. he can’t stop staring at you, and while he supposes success and defeat can look the same in a mirror —therefore, he doesn’t really blame your confusion—, he finds no words to explain which one he’s feeling as you move your chair towards him by a push against the floor, solely accompanied by the sound of the little wheels rolling to him.

he grabs his walking stick and turns it around, pretending to poke at your chair, as if to teasingly shove it away. if you realize that he settles the walking stick just in the correct place so that your stool can’t move back, he doesn’t know. viktor just stares at the floor, to pretend that maybe the way your eyes turn tender when his reflection shines on them has nothing to do with what you’re about to say.

tsk, tsk. clueless viktor.

he’s expecting it, yes, but even with that on mind, he can’t phathom how your course of action chooses laughing as you fidget with the loose button on his vest, the second one from the top down. viktor purposely forces himself to stable his breathing, worry seeping into him, thinking that maybe you could feel his heartbeat grow faster beneath the layers of clothing.

and he feels like the remnants of a cheap ring that stain a finger blue, when comparing himself as he stands —sits— close and next to you. maybe its because you usually wear rings, and he can feel the ghost of them as your hand trails up and absentmindedly fixes his collar.

he can almost see it. your mind working, the pieces falling into place, the—

“either my eyes are deceiving me or yours have been on my lips for a rather long time.”

and he can just. blink. as if that could break how mesmerized he feels, how his heart swells up and covers his throat, how inexplicably he feels when you’re with him, near and alone. the need to know more. the need to use every trinket and screw to map out your body for him to explore, and to map out the wonders of your mind for the world to admire and maybe then find out the reason of his inability to look away.

he was so focused before. used to be.

he is. now, at you. of you. on you.

you.

another point for you. he isn’t keeping count, but something tells him he’s losing.

and as his gaze falls back to your lips in between a battle against your eyes, lost in which to stare and sink into their devotion, he hesitates again.

he thinks its funny. so funny, viktor holds back the dry chuckle that threatens to go past his lips. how to cherish you in a way that matters. how to love, the scientist wonders. is there a way that would allow him to unveil and unravel himself to you? could there be some kind of language, able to express the depth of his insides, that you, too, could understand?

what is love, anyways? is he in love with you because his coffee tastes better when it matches the dark of your pupils? because when he takes the mug from your hand and his fingers brush against yours, it seems warmer? because he notices how the dark shade in your eyes seems to mix with that of your irises, and the way the black eats the colour when you stare at him? because he claims to hate company while he studies alone, but one chair remains empty as he works, waiting for who it was meant for? because when he fails and surrenders himself to the fall, throws his walking stick against the wall, he yearns for your embrace and how your hair smells in the evenings?

is that love? and if it is, could you understand it?

if it is love, and he could say it, would such a short word convey its meaning, or was he speculating just a couple of paragraphs ago? was he assuming the meaning of what love entails?

even so. if he said it, would you repeat it? would you claim you love him because he loves you, claim to love him too? would you instead claim to love him despite everything, even the uncertainty of love itself?

…does he accept it himself?

he’s overwhelmed by the sheer amount of voices in his head. there’s too much chatter. too many questions he can’t answer, too many commas, too many question marks. too much, too much, too many.

so he silences them. makes the voices dim to a deep silence. and when his lips find themselves suddenly against yours, he finds out the true, effervescent meaning of quietness.

his hand fails to pull you closer because of the damn walking stick that gets in the way. or maybe its the chairs you’re both on that clash against each other. maybe its matter itself. for a while, its the first time viktor doesn’t want to know.

in a bold statement, he couldn’t give a fuck.

he’s kissing you.

and it should be bad because of all the unanswered questions. he’s skipping procedure. he’s gone from the fuck around to finding out and he doesn’t know where he is at this point.

what he does know, is that your hand pulls him by his necktie, and he’s gone. science? yours only. the science that he’d study all of the nights he may have left. the science behind what makes you. the science behind how your hand craddles his face while stroking his cheekbones. the science behind how you’re the closest you’ve ever been to him and somehow still not close enough. the science behind the reason why when you pull away makes his heart beat so loudly, as if it had forgotten how to a second ago.

your forehead rests against his. he shouldn’t have done that. he just… did it. maybe that was bad. was it? could it be? he had been waiting for so long too. he never thought he would…

“viktor, what are we?”

and he’s dead. he knows what the question implies, but he doesn’t want to answer. he could follow you like a lost puppy through piltover and zaun and hell knows where else. if he wasn’t dead now he would die right there and now without a second thought, because the feeling that overcame him was that love was suddenly a sentence or two away.

he knows he doesn’t dare. it’s one of the only thing he knows, one of the things he’s sure of.

but somehow, he moves. he stands up, takes the walking stick, and attempts to walk out the feeling that bounces inside him.

the walking stick always makes a noise when he walks, one with dificulties to interpret in terms of onomatopeia. not quite a thud, not deep enough to reach that quality. not a clack, for it is not entirely made of metal. still, as if it was a mix of both, he keeps walking.

viktor is nervous. thud-clack. he’s not moving far from his chair, nor is he going somewhere else. thud-clack. he still keeps pacing. thud-clack. maybe the answer is somewhere in the room. thud-clack. maybe he can reply.

thud-clack, thud-clack, thud-clack.

only does he then realize that he hasn’t answered your question. and a non-answer statement might as well be a rejection.

no. no, no, no. fuck.

he’s sitting again, but you stand up. your hair follows, long. moving and brushing against the skin of your shoulders in a way that he can’t help but claim it to be endearing.

you’re walking. you don’t make any kind of extra sound when you walk. your heels reverberate against the floor like any other, yet also they mark the beat of his heart.

he can’t reach for you. you walk too fast.

you stop when you feel the walking stick on your side. the part made for him to lean on as he walks hooks you, and you stand, not facing him.

he doesn’t use the walking stick as he stands. no, he keeps it hooked to your core, scared that you might leave. you could, he wouldn’t blame you. but he can’t allow it.

he holds it in the air as he takes one step. another step. you’re turning, surprised to see him standing, and you gasp when he lets himself fall on you.

your touch surrounds him. yes. that’s the closeness he needed. he drops the walking stick, his hands slithering on your body, pressing you against him, for no reason at all yet because it is all needs.

“what can we be?” he whispers. he takes the science approach. the viktor approach.

he isn’t too clueless after all.

he raises enough to look at your darkened, sleepy eyes. he wants to drown in them.

“if i wanted to kiss you everytime you hand me coffee, wanted you to sit on the same chair as ne and hug me from behind as I work, wanted you.” he swallows dry. “then, what can we be?”

he doesn’t want to say the words, and its petty.

it’s the 31st when the clock strickes five am and your hands travel through his hair to kiss him again. to unbalance him enough that he falls back on his chair and you follow him, sitting on his lap.

and as he kisses you, his hands worshipping the skin he can touch, the warmth he can feel through layers of clothing, he feels like maybe there’s a life worth living, so he can’t ask.

he’s heard boys and girls when he was young talk about it. “he didn’t want to celebrate our month-versary,” a girl cried as he played with his little boat, watching from afar as she was comforted by her friend.

it’s the 31st. and he can’t really ask the question now, because if he says it, how could you celebrate each month?

he moves the chair and holds you in his arms as your back falls against the table before him. maybe he can kiss you until next month. until the clock strikes and it’s the 1st.

he smiles as he kisses you, feeling you pull his necktie off. he thinks it’s the best idea he’s had in a while. and a true scientist always tries out their hypothesis.

~k.k. (☆) have fun!

aaksuitac, november 2024 ©

[toxycodone]

Deflowered. (Laios Touden x Reader)

content. virginity loss (laios), fluff. a metric ton of it. there's also emotional crying so. watch out.

reader's past/experiences/looks are not mentioned. I wrote this as more as an immersive means of sex with Laios, so physical and mental feelings are the main point. reader has a pussy (for the sake of writing) but this fic is still pretty gender neutral. If you are not a vagina haver/enjoyer/whatever you can gloss over it w/o much issue.

words like pretty/beautiful/etc. are used but in reference to reader AND Laios. gender equality or whatever.

author's note. This fic is one of my aforementioned stretch goals from my fundraiser for Palestine! So yay, thanks so much everyone for funding it!

word count. 6.7k+ (I went too hard on this.)

Like my writing? Toss a dono to the Palestine Children's Relief Fund and join the Fic Raffle! (I will kiss u fully on the mouth).

“Laios…are you even into sex?”

It’s a question he never really saw coming, but now, five months into your relationship, it’s hitting him like a train. You’re looking at him with genuine curiosity, no judgment. It’s simply a question.

“Well…um…”

The blonde has to take a moment to compose himself before answering the question. Despite his closeness to you, discussion of such intimate topics does still escape him.

“I can’t say I’m not interested.” He speaks, now finding his hands much more interesting to stare at than your gaze. “I’ve never really considered how to approach the topic.”

“But you’re interested?” You lean forward a bit. “Do you want to have sex with me?” Usually, you wouldn’t think to be so bold. But conversations with Laios require a certain amount of directness. You don’t want to leave anything up to interpretation.

Laios’s cheeks begin to turn pink. He looks to you now, and it’s obvious the action requires a vast amount of courage from the man.

“I do. I’m…very attracted to you.” He admits.

It’s reassuring to hear him say it out loud. It’s been a long while since you’ve been lusting after him. Spending so much time without acting on it, you weren’t sure if you could take it much longer.

“Good.” You smile to yourself, before continuing. “So…are we going to do anything about it, or…?”

The last sentence is said more in a teasing manner. You’re hoping to break the tension between you and Laios a tad. However, he doesn’t seem especially moved. His gaze leaves you once more.

“I’ve…I’ve never…” He hesitates. “You’d be my first.”

That revelation has you shocked…at least, sort of. Laios is handsome and well-built, but he’s awfully busy. You weren’t surprised to be his first steady relationship, but to be his first time…? Not even a quick romp when he was in the military? Or moving with the caravan? That’s…surprising. But not totally uninvited.

“So you’re a virgin.”

Laios looks ashamed when you say it out loud. He knows that an average man of his age should have a plethora of experience under his belt.

“It’s not that I haven’t wanted to. I’ve never really had a chance.”

Laios’s face burns. It’s embarrassing to speak the truth. You must be disappointed to be with a man like him. A man, psh, if he can even call himself such…

Before his mind can continue its self-deprecating spiral, your voice cuts through the strife.

“I’d be honored to change that, if you’d let me.”

You keep your tone and demeanor sincere. You accentuate this feeling by placing your hand on his knee, reassuringly giving it a squeeze.

Laios looks shocked. Yet…happy. He’s happy. Of course. He should’ve expected this reaction from you. Why was he nervous in the first place? You’re wonderful.

“You want to…copulate with me?”

You snicker. Leave it to Laios to make things abruptly technical. Despite his interest, he’s clearly not fully comfortable with this situation just yet.

“Yes, Laios. I do in fact want to copulate with you. Very much so.”

And many more times after that, you think. But you’d keep that to yourself for now.

“Wow.” The blush on his face deepens. Laios stares at you for a few moments, before smiling.

“Then I’d be honored to have you as well.”

So here you are. After a few days of planning (mainly to ensure Laios’s comfort and preparation), you’re laid across his bed with him at your side.

The both of you took care to really set the mood. Falin’s not home, for one (thankfully she planned on spending this evening with Marcille), and Laios’s room looks a lot more inviting with the couple of candles lit up. It’s romantic yet comfortable. The perfect scenario for what’s bound to ensue.

You gently stroke the fabric of Laios’s nightshirt as you lay beside him. The two of you have been in this scenario multiple times before—often before an intense cuddle session or the occasional make out. This time the feeling was…new, even to you. The atmosphere is tense. 

“You okay?”

Laios looks at you. His pale skin is tinged in a rose hue, despite you two not even getting started yet.

“I’m nervous.” He admits. “I mean, I’ve never done this before.”

“I know that. You don’t have to be nervous. I don’t have any expectations, so, you don’t need to worry. I just want to spend time with you.” You press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want—“

“I want to!” Laios interjects. He looks almost startled as you by his own enthusiasm, then coughs awkwardly. “I want to be with you. In this way. I’ve thought about it a lot, actually.”

Now that piques your interest. He’s been thinking about you? You can work with this.

“You’ve thought about me?” Your fingers start to trail down his shirt, from his chest to his midriff. “What kind of thoughts, Laios?”

The man tenses, but quickly shakes it off. You notice his breathing pick up.

“Thoughts…of us. What this would be like…” Laios shifts a bit, his eyes follow your fingers as they dive under his shirt.

“Mhm…” You urge him to continue. “Mind if I take this off?”

Laios shakes his head. His night shirt comes off as easy as ever. You’ve seen him shirtless quite a few times, but the sight never gets old. You take a few moments to admire the pleasant softness of his upper body, before looking to him again.

“Go on.”

You work on unbuttoning your top as he speaks.

“I was wondering…” Laios’s train of thought seems to stall as you remove your shirt. His wide, golden eyes drink you in before he snaps himself back to reality. “How you’d feel. The noises you’d make,, I still can’t believe you want to do this with me.”

You roll your eyes internally. If only he could see himself through your eyes. He’d know if anything, he’s doing you an utmost favor by letting you deflower him.

“I can’t imagine who I’d rather be doing this with right now than you.” You lean to chastely kiss his cheek, before moving down his jaw. “You’re absurdly handsome.” Simply kissing his warm skin makes your stomach tie in knots. Gods, you want him inside you.

Laios’s breath hitches. A breathy moan parts the silence before he speaks again.

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”

Soft lips trail down his chest, then linger over the space near his heart. When you press your ear to his skin, you can hear the rhythmic thumps pounding against his ribcage. It makes you smile.

“You don’t have to be nervous, Lai. We can stop at any time. I won’t be mad.” You punctuate your sentence with a kiss to his heart.

Laios smiles, comforted by the gesture.

“I know. I want—well, I’ve wanted. To do this, though. For a while.”

He sits up a little to better see your face. You return his smile, then get back to work.

Laios gently starts to stroke your hair as you kiss down his body. His soft moans and whimpers fill the air. Under your lips, you can feel the skin on his stomach twitch and tense in between kisses.

You let one of your hands trail up his thigh. It doesn’t move towards his crotch just yet, instead, you settle to massage the flesh from over the soft linen of his night pants. You move towards his inner thigh teasingly slow.

The goal here is to rile him up as much as possible. Unlike other men, Laios isn’t just hard and raring to go from his thoughts alone. His own shyness and insecurities still hold him back. But, with his mind clouded with lust, Laios would be likely to let more of his inhibitions go.

After a little more teasing, you finally decide to dip your fingers under his waistband. His breath hitches when your knuckles accidentally bump his groin—even the tiniest moments have Laios reeling. You pause your movements to look up at him, doing your best to hide the smugness you feel.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He mumbles, then brushes some hair out of your face. He’s smiling and his lips part, but nothing comes out. He purses them instead as if he’s debating something.

You raise a brow, which prompts him to keep talking.

“C-can we kiss? While you do this?”

He asks this almost sheepishly, and it’s enough to make you blush as well. Why the hell does he get to be so cute?

You nod, obliging his request by moving up the bed and leaning forward to press your lips to his. You can feel his lips curl into the gesture. He’s smiling. You swear he’s the most adorable thing in this world.

The lip lock starts out sweet. The two of you take your time to set the pace, pressing loving kisses to each other, before it grows more heated as your hand gently palms his bulge through his underwear. Each movement earns a gasp or groan from the man before you. It’s not long before you feel him start to harden beneath your grasp.

You pull away for just a moment to look into his eyes. Laios’s face is much more relaxed now. He seems to be more focused on the moment.

“May I?”

Your fingers dip below the fabric of his underwear, but don’t dare go further without affirmation.

Laios nods.

“Yes, please.”

He helps you shuffle off his night pants. In respect of fairness, you place his hands on your hips so he can aid you in removing yours as well. Laios bites his lip a bit, his cheeks now fully blooming with a rosy hue. The sight of your bare ass and thighs obviously has him excited.

Next is his underwear. You’re seated in between his thighs as you remove them. It doesn’t come off as eagerly as his pants, but when you press a kiss to his hip he’s more than happy to oblige.

His semi-erect cock is quite a sight to behold,\ It’s not abnormally huge or anything, but the fact that you’re finally seeing what you’ve imagined to be pounding into you for the last few months. The fact that is a part of Laios that no one else has seen—or gets to see— but you? You can barely stop yourself from drooling. You want this thing in your hands. Mouth. Ass. Gods, everywhere it can fit. He could split you in two and you’d thank him.

You spit into your palm, then grasp it. He’s warm and weighty in your hand. You can already imagine how it’d feel cradled by your walls. Your hand slides down the length a few times—earning a choked moan from Laios. It’s pulsing with life and solid now in your grasp. His foreskin moves with each stroke of your hand as precum starts to pearl at the tip, aiding in lubrication.

“Feels better when someone else does it, yeah?” You ask with a smile.

Laios merely nods, nipping his bottom lip.

“Y-yeah.”

Another stroke has him lying his head back in the pillow, groaning. His large hands fist the sheets. You take one and lie it against the back of your head, and almost instinctively, he grips your hair. However, it’s with the same power one may use to hold a sheet of glass. Eh, you think as he settles into this, Laios will eventually get it and get more firm.

You can’t help but give him an experimental lick. Laios makes an odd whimpering noise—but it’s clear it’s in pleasure—so you continue to taste him. It doesn’t have much of a flavor. It’s mostly just like licking his skin, it’s clear he washed pretty thoroughly before. His precum starts to add a bit of a salty tinge as you continue. You make sure to lick down to his balls as well. He’s got a pretty thick covering of blonde pubic hair–but the sounds he makes and the way he curls his toes makes you less than apprehensive to keep working your mouth.

Laios’s lewd sounds fill the air as you continue. His fingers gently brush your scalp for a few strokes, before finding their way to grip you tighter. When you give him a light moan, the reverberations shoot down his cock, and he fists your hair with more passion. 

You start to grind yourself against the mattress, but when that’s not enough, you seat yourself as well as you can on his knee and find some decent friction there. Pleasant waves of arousal course through you, down to your crotch as you start to get yourself off a little. This feeling, along with the feeling of Laios down your throat, starts to put you in a bit of a trance.

A desperate noise cuts through the silence. Laios gives a half-hearted tug and grits his teeth.

“S-stop.” He chokes out, causing you to still. You remove your mouth from his length, before giving him an absentminded stroke. “Please. I don’t wanna cum. Not yet.”

You fully remove yourself from him and Laios lets out an audible sigh of relief. You laugh lightly as he begins to regain his composure. That azalea hued blush advances down to his chest now. For someone who’s faced beasts twice his size and kept going, Laios already looks utterly finished beneath you now.

“Why don’t we take a little break, yeah?”

You move up the bed and kiss him on the nose. You know you want him inside you now. But as wet as you are from just grinding against him, you know you need to be stretched open a bit beforehand if you want to take him comfortably.

“Sounds good.” Laios kisses your forehead in return, gently humming. His shaky breaths are starting to return to a normal rhythm.

Now it’s your turn. You lie with your back down on the bed, then look over to Laios.

“Wanna return the favor while you recuperate?” You ask, looking at him unexpectedly. You don’t want to intimidate him or make him feel like he has to do anything at this point. However, Laios’s eyes light up. He eagerly shuffles to be between your legs, before moving to assist you with getting comfortable propped against the pillow on his headboard.

He looks mesmerized by the sight of you through your underwear. The slick on them doesn’t give much to the imagination of what’s underneath. He can barely see the head of your clit poking through as you spread open for him. The sight and smell triggers his overeager brain to lean forward and take a good, long lick.

You jolt a bit, but moan. Laios snaps back, then looks wide eyed at you.

“Sorry! I should’ve asked first.” 

He looks sheepish, but not entirely remorseful. You’d roll your eyes, but you’re actually kinda excited. Okay, it seems his nerves are dissipating now. This is good.

“It’s okay.” You move your hand to stroke his hair affectionately. “Do what you want. You can take off my underwear, too.”

Laios’s hands are shaky, but it's clear that’s from excitement. He licks you through your underwear a couple times as an experiment, making you tense, before finally removing them. The sight of you in front of him, finally exposed, makes his jaw drop–almost comically slow. He stares at you long enough to spark confusion (maybe even some nerves yourself), before he finally speaks up.

“What…exactly do I do?”

You snort. You almost forgot he’s entirely clueless.

“Here,” You spread your lips open for him to see. “It’s not super difficult. Anywhere you lick is gonna feel good. But you should concentrate more on these spots.” One finger points to the sensitive mound at the apex of your folds. “This is the clit. It’s the most important. It…kinda feels similar to me how it did when I was sucking on you. But…don’t get too crazy. The clit’s more sensitive, so you wanna be gentle.”

“Hmmmm…” Laios nods, following along with interest. His large finger reaches out and starts to stroke it lightly. You moan in response.

“That’s good. You’re getting it. But add a bit more pressure. That feels better.” 

He obliges, and you close your eyes with a smile. The added texture of his fingerpad is what adds more pleasure. That feels good. Laios notices your reaction, then continues. As he continues to play with the nub, he pulls back the head. This seems to enlighten him.

“It has a hood!?” He asks excitedly. “Is it more sensitive underneath?”

“Super sensitive.” You agree. “Again, be careful, don’t just–”

He’s not listening. He gives a gentle lick, then a suck, which has you shuddering. You moan out his name in your own choked voice. Your hands grip his hair. It takes willpower not to shove his face into you just yet. “Gods, Laios. You’re eager.” He chuckles, then licks at you again. You grind against his face in return, which makes him moan.

“You’re getting…slicker. More moist.” He remarks, then licks up some of your wetness. “It tastes weird. But good. It’s like I don’t wanna stop. Must be pheromones or it’s similar to how–…”

“Usually people say wet, Laios. Moist is not super sexy.” You chuckle. It’s important to cut him off now. His language along with incoming tangent would probably unintentionally kill the mood. “But it’s because I’m getting more turned on. You’re making me feel turned on.”

Laios shuffles a bit. You can tell he’s getting harder.

“I like that. I like making you feel this way.” He seems to be more confident now.

“Good, you can make me feel even better with your hands, too.”

He’s curious again. You open yourself once more, then point to the lowermost hole.

“That’s the vagina. The main entrance.” He nods, and you continue. “Before we go further, you’re gonna have to stretch me out. It’ll make everything else feel better and more comfortable for me.” 

He looks up at you with a bit of a frown.

“I know what that is.” He pouts. “I’m not entirely clueless.”

Oh.

You chuckle a bit, patting his head affectionately.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure. You’re a lot smarter than most guys.”

That seems to cheer him up, so you continue. You instruct him to slide one of his digits inside you. He does so, slowly and carefully as you command. His hands are unreasonably large. One digit is actually able to make you feel something as he slides it in and out of you. There’s almost no resistance as he does so, your slick coats his fingers and seeps onto his palm as you ask him to add another. You feel yourself stretch to accommodate them and moan in pleasure. Each movement he makes is extremely purposeful. It’s not just as if he’s trying to finger you, but also get an idea of just how you feel on the inside. The pads of Laios’s fingers gently poke and prod as they continue their movements. He’s enthralled by the texture and feeling of merely his fingers inside you.

“N-now…make like, a scissoring motion.” You ask, starting to feel that typical build up at the core of your groin. Laios gasps as he starts to stretch you out, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“The human body is amazing…” He speaks as if he’s entranced. “I wonder if I–”

His tongue moves to lick up your slit. You let out a wanton groan, then clutch his scalp. Laios takes this as a good sign and moves to lick at your clit like before. The stimulation along with him still fingering you has your breath stifling. You start to fuck yourself on his fingers and grind into his face.

“Just like that, Laios. Good boy…” You praise, not really thinking about what you’re saying. He whimpers into you, making you groan again. The little vibrations when he does that feel amazing. He continues to moan and whimper as he suckles at your clit. You can hear a swishing sound, something against the fabric of the linen sheets, and when you put two and two together you realize he’s humping the bed under him. 

Okay, as good as this feels, you need to put a stop to this. He’s gonna get carpet burn on his dick. And you’re gonna cum on his face and get too brainless to direct this virgin when he’s pounding into you. 

You pull him back by his hair, which Laios doesn’t fight against. His fingers still inside you. There’s a small trail of clear spit and slick that keeps his mouth connected to you. 

“Pull your fingers out. I wanna ride you now.”

He’s no longer hesitating. The way Laios scrambles off you and eagerly lies on his back is comical. You’re not exactly composed yourself, though. You’re just as ready to hop on and ride him until his brain goes numb.

Laios leans his back against the headboard with you seated in his lap. Your hips almost move on their own, sliding your entrance over his cock before grinding your clit against it. Just this has the two of you orchestrating a symphony of moans. The combination of slick, precum, and spit that forms between your legs and drools down your groins adds a barely audible wet sound in addition. When the cusp of your entrance catches on the head of his cock, you shudder.

You can’t wait anymore. And you’re sure Laios can’t either. You position his head at your entrance and give him a kiss.

“Are you ready?” You ask, pressing another kiss to his forehead. You want him to be sure. Not that you’d think he’d back out at this point, but you’d rather be safe than sorry.

“More than ever.” He responds breathlessly, then kisses you sweetly. You can taste yourself on his lips. “Do it, please. I want you.”

You’re sure to align him correctly, then sink down on his tip. Laios makes what might be the weirdest, yet hottest groan from deep in his throat, while his fingertips dig into your sides.

“Relax…” You whisper, ghosting kisses over his cheeks. You’re not fully composed either, but Laios is going to burst if you’re not careful. “It’s okay.”

He lets his face fall, but his shaky breathing continues as you fuck yourself on his tip, steadily opening yourself up to him. This is better than you thought. Much fucking better. Especially with Laios’s gasps and desperate whines in your ear. The heat that radiates from his body, causing the two of you to work up a light sweat. The way his muscles tense and jolt underneath your body. It’s driving you absolutely wild.

“Laios.” You moan, letting your head fall to the crook of his neck. You know this pleasure is brainbreaking for him, but it’s making you weak in the knees as well. The insides of your thighs burn with pleasure as you continue to take more of him into you. “You feel so fucking good inside me. You fit so well.”

One of his arms raises. His hand cradles your head, but his fingers grip your hair tightly.

“You’re so warm.” The last word falls out of his mouth like a boulder. He’s struggling to speak as if his mouth is filled with rocks. “So, s-so good…” He’s speaking through grit teeth, swallowing harshly like his throat’s suddenly coated with cotton. When you bottom out, resting your ass on his balls, he cries out your name. He almost comes unfurled beneath you at that moment. 

The act’s finally done. Laios Touden–No longer a virgin. He’s been deflowered by you. 

You bask in the moment. Despite your mind being clouded by pleasure, you take just a second to appreciate him. That ever growing flowery hue lights up his whole being now. Laios face, neck, chest…even parts of his arms and thighs are practically growing red. The rest of his pale skin is tinted with a hibiscus-pink color. Laios’s head is lolled back. His open mouth has a small trail of drool running from it. You lick it up happily, then meet him for a kiss.

“Look at me.”

Your command gently wakes him from his trance. Laios’s golden eyes peer at you lazily.

“You’re not a virgin anymore.” You chuckle, then kiss that broad nose bridge of his. He smiles and leans his forehead against yours.

“Thank you…” He breathes out. His eyes shine with adoration now. 

“I should be thanking you. It’s not every day one gets to take the virginity of someone as pretty as you.” 

Your compliment makes his breath stifle. You give him another loving kiss, which he eagerly returns.

You start to move now, which Laios responds to with a whimper. He tries to roll his head back again, but you wrap an arm around his shoulder and use your hand to direct his gaze where you two connect.

“Look at us.” You say between gasps. “The way we fit together. You were made for me.”

His brow furrows, but his eyes widen in awe. Laios’s hands remain perched on your hips as you ride him. He moves awkwardly to match you, but his thighs and legs betray him when jolts of gratification surge through him. He tries to cough out a response–something, anything–but can only manage a drawn, pitchy whimper. You let your eyes fall closed and set your forehead against his again.

For now, you let yourself enjoy the moment. You and Laios exchange breaths, gasps, and groans as you guide yourself up and down his length, then bottom out once more to grind your clit against his pubes and groin. Laios creates his own cacophony of odd noises that you can assume are due to pleasure, and they send swirls of delight through your brain and down your spine.

Each movement you make makes you crave more. More of him. The way he smells, sounds, feels–its all encompassing. It makes you want to consume all of him, drain him the way he’s drained your thoughts these past months. You could never imagine it’d feel this way. Laios isn’t gifted at sex by any means, but the emotional connection between you two is what heightens the physical aspect. Knowing you’re his first, how much he trusts you, desires you–it makes your mind cloudy. He belongs to you. You have him in the most intimate way possible now. An unforgettable moment for the both of you.

You clench around him and grit your teeth. It’s almost as if you’re telling him this now–he’s yours. The noise he makes when you do that is unnatural. It’s guttural–almost primal. 

“I’m gonna cum!” He chokes out, his body shaking with tension. You immediately stop your movements and relax. Not like this. Not yet, if you can help it.

“Hey, hey, settle.” You coo in his ear, now kissing whatever skin you can reach. “You don’t wanna cum just yet, right? I was hoping to give you the reins.”

Laios’s breathing is rapid, as if he just ran a mile. You coax him out of his stupor, trying to aid him in learning to contain himself. For someone with little experience, he does have a lot of willpower. With a little more time to gain his brain back, he’s able to get halfway cognizant and look at you once more. 

Your hips slide up, ever so slowly, and you let him fall out of you with a wet pop. That would’ve been embarrassing if the two of you weren’t so incredibly turned on. You hop off him now, then beckon him to climb on top of you. When he does, you anchor your thighs on his hips.

“I figured you’d wanna try your hand at this. Hold yourself up and I’ll give you a hand.” You prop yourself up a bit to look between your legs. Laios grabs his cock, and you help him guide it towards your entrance. “It’s probably gonna slip out if you’re not careful, so keep close to me.”

He nods and slides in without issue. You hum in delight at the feeling of being full again. You let Laios thrust his hips into yours a few times and his hefty balls smack lewdly against your ass as he does. He’s focused, biting his tongue a little as he tries to see which angle and speed gets a proper reaction from you. He’s cute. And the fact he’s thinking of your pleasure on an evening that’s supposed to be about him is endearing as well.

You beckon him forward, then lock your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, the typical missionary position. Laios keeps most of his weight on his forearms as he casually pumps into you. 

“You’re doing a good job.” You gently play with his hair and look lovingly at him. Laios always fills you with the warmest, fuzziest feeling when you look into his eyes. It spills out like water when you have him like this. “You’re perfect. Everything I could want in a man.”

Laios’s brows furrow. You can’t tell if it's in concentration or what. You kiss his forehead softly as his eyes flutter closed.

“You’re everything to me.” He says in a firm voice. His pace begins to pick up, his pelvis starting to dig into yours. “You. I–, I just…can’t believe you’re here with me. You’re so beautiful...”

He’s really picking up the pace now. It makes your grip tighten on his hair. Laios is losing himself in you, and you let him. His length barely leaves you before thrusting right into you again. Sweet words and strangled noises pool in his throat and tumble out with fervor. 

“I love you.” He whines. It’s said with enough devotion to make your heart ache. “I love you…Love you…” He gasps. You feel his cock twitch inside you. He starts to drive into you like a madman now. He has little tact, but you don’t mind. It feels good nonetheless to watch him fall apart before you like this. Feel him lose his composure just from the workings of your body. Your own peak starts to approach on the horizon. 

“I wanna stay with you forever. Wanna be yours.” His balls create a slightly steady beat as they slap against your bottom. The wet, squelching sound of your hole being pounded fills your ears along with Laios’s moans.

“I love you too.” You respond, letting your fingers comb through his sweaty bangs, moving them from his face. Words come easier since you’re still more composed than he is. It’s clear Laios is exceptionally vulnerable at this moment, so you tell him things he probably needs to hear.  “You’re so easy to love, Laios. Just by being you.”

That seems to do something to him. His head falls in the crook of your neck and his arms slide under your shoulders to pull you as close as possible. His entire weight now leaning on you knocks the wind out of you a bit, but you’re able to recover quickly. All you hear is jagged breaths and strangled cries as he pumps into you wildly. A wet warmth starts to gather on your skin. You think its drool. 

A few more desperate thrusts of his hips has him coming undone completely. It’s everything but graceful as Laios reaches his peak. It’s obvious his orgasm tears through him like he’s paper. Not only does he almost completely fill you, but his sounds are grossly guttural, and the way his body tenses like stone and curls into yours before he slumps against you is testament to that. 

You roll with it, though, and simply pet his hair, whispering sweet nothings to him as you do so. He shudders against you, hiccuping softly against your skin. As you bask in the moment, you feel your combined slick start to squeeze out of you a bit. It’s still warm, but it makes you shiver. You stayed hugged against Laios for a while before he finally starts to remove himself from you. 

You’re shocked when you catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are puffy, nose runny. There’s tear stains down his cheeks. He wasn’t drooling. He was crying.

“Hey.” You hold his jaw in your hands, frowning a bit. “You okay? What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t dare look you in the eyes. His nerves eat away as him as he sniffles. It’s a little bit of a pathetic sight.

“I-I don’t know. I just…you said all those nice things to me, and I just–” His tears start coming again, and you shoosh him. There’s a lot of hormones floating around. You’re sure that’s making him emotional, granted, on top of all his insecurities surrounding his own self-worth.

“I meant what I said. I love you, sincerely.”

Laios’s breathing starts to even out a bit, but tears still fall. He brings your palm to his mouth, gently kissing it.

“I know. But that’s what makes me feel this way even more. I just…can’t believe you’re with me at times. You’re so wonderful.” He looks at you with such adoration. It’s sickeningly sweet.

“You are too. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. Then you could at least begin to understand how I feel about you.”  You continue to wipe his tears with your free hand. Laios shakes his head, almost in disbelief.

“I’ll never understand what makes you want to put up with me. But I'm over the moon that you choose to do so.”

“And I always will. Loving you is effortless. Stop referring to it like it’s a job. ” You casually flick his forehead to lighten the mood. Laios snaps out of his own head and returns to the moment with a soft “ow”, before beginning to laugh.

A laugh escapes you now. You sweetly kiss him on the nose.

“Now, stop crying, dummy.” You tease. “You’re gonna make me cry too,”

Laios chuckles as you wipe his tears. He grasps your wrist, then brings your hand closer for him to kiss.

“I’m the smartest man in the world if I’ve already decided I want to spend my life with you.”

So what he said earlier. He meant that. Laios sees a future with you…You start to feel a little overwhelmed by emotion now, but settle on squishing his face in your hands and pushing him away.

“Dork.” You chuckle. Laios’s laughter fills the room now. There’s so much mirth in the room, before he starts to look contemplative again.

“Wait…did you?” He raises a brow. “I couldn’t tell if you finished.”

Oh. Here comes the awkward truth. You weren’t expecting to get off and you had a lot of fun, but you’re not sure if that’s enough for him.

“I…no.” You answer honestly, but are quick to reassure. “It’s okay, though. Don’t feel pressured. You went through a lot right now, and I still had fun. I’m happy.”

He’s not.

“But I wanted you to…” He pouts. “You deserve it after what you did for me.”

You’re about to reassure him that hey, it’s fine. You could cuddle and just chill out, but you catch his curious gaze trail down to the shiny wetness of your crotch. If he’s willing…

“I mean, if you want…” You look up at him. “Only if you feel like it. I can show you how to get me off again. But in a different way this time.”

His brows raise, eyes shining with interest. He nods, now sitting up on his knees as if awaiting instruction.

You tell him to lie on his back and tell him about your plans. Facesitting is an entirely new thing to him, but he’s totally on board with the idea. He’s practically drooling as you describe it to him. The tension and eagerness builds up with a quickness. You hurry up and get your shins seated on either side of his head, ready to get this show on the road.

“This still alright with you?”

You look down at Laios. He’s staring at your wet, cum soaked pussy like it’s a gourmet meal.

“Fuck yes.”

That’s the first time he’s cursed all night. He must have a thing for oral. You’ll be sure to keep that in mind.

You lower yourself onto him, careful not to put all your weight on him just yet. Laios laps at you excitedly. He’s never been the most refined eater in the first place, and the way he sucks and licks at you is as if all manners flew out the window. Your thighs shiver as you let more weight onto his face. Holy shit. He seems to be a quick learner. That, or his enthusiasm to please shines through when it comes to oral. He’s so voracious it makes your head spin. 

You cry out expletives and start to rock against his face. Laios’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling your hips down onto him. You lean as much weight as he can take. It doesn’t seem like you phase it at all. 

With your slit flush against him, you can feel everything. His tongue dragging across your sensitive skin, diving into your hole as he lets you fuck yourself on it. Warmth builds in your core, making your jaw clench. You alternate between grinding your clit on his nose and letting him suckle at it. It’s phenomenal.

“I’m gonna…” You’re cut off by a moan. Your thighs tighten around his head. “Laios!”

He heeds your warning, now focusing on letting you ride his tongue. You grind your clit against his nose as you finally come undone, that warm familiar feeling spreading from your groin down to your thighs. Your legs clench around his head. The moan that you elicit from his lips while you do that has you shaking. 

When you’re ready, you climb off his face, flopping on the bed beside Laios. The two of you are spent. At least for right now. Laios pulls you into his arms, letting your head rest gently on his chest. As you lie there, the sound of his heartbeat lulls you to drowsiness.

“That was the best moment of my life.” He speaks up. “I just…” Laios laughs at his loss for words. He’s never been good with  them, but even finding one to describe how he feels right now seems like an impossible task. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

“Love you too.” You murmur against his skin. This was a lot, physically and emotionally. But you’re glad you did it.

“I feel like I could lie here forever.” His voice starts to taper off, as if he;s feeling wistful. 

“Mmmmm…” You mumble in agreement. Falling asleep with your face flush against Laios’s boob sounds ideal, before you’re reminded of the cool wetness between your thighs. It was sexy at first, but now it’s starting to grow uncomfortable. “I–We, gotta clean up, though. I feel gross.”

“I kinda like it.” Laios admits. “Being covered in you…us. It’s nice to see our fluids together.” His fingers brush between his own legs, gathering some slick between his fingers. “It’s kinda like slime. Man, I wish I could have those noodles again.”

You furrow your brows in disgust at first, but Laios’s words make you snicker. Of course, he somehow relates this to monsters. Then, to food.

“Well, the faster we get cleaned up, the quicker we can eat.” You begrudgingly stand on shaky legs. Laios is quick to steady you, before standing up himself.

“You’re right. I’ll pay. I owe you one after all this.” He kisses the top of your head. Laios starts to walk away towards the bathroom, but not before you land a decent smack on his ass. The man yelps, before staring at you wide eyed. The handprint that lingers due to how pale his skin is is comical.

“C’mon. You owe me a shower.” You kiss the underside of his jaw, then walk ahead of him.

Laios rolls his eyes and smiles, happily following after you.

[tortureddarkstar]

✩ IN BLOOM

AND HE LIKES TO SING ALONG / / AND HE LIKES TO SHOOT HIS GUN

DEAN WINCHESTER X F!READER

18+ CONTENT. MINORS DNI.

summary: dean teaches you how to shoot a gun. amongst other things.

inspired by: in bloom- nirvana

this was a very much ‘fine i’ll do it myself’ kinda feat. not enough dean fics out there esp since its spn season. this is also my tumblr debut x

lots of smut, not a lot of plot. hope u like x

“hey, focus.”

your attention snapped back to the ‘x’ dean had etched into a tree.

dean had his arms around you, thick hands encompassing yours which aimed his white colt at dean’s makeshift target.

“hm? oh, sorry.” you blinked your eyes a few times, drawing in on the target.

“no. not ‘sorry’. focus.” he grunted in your ear. “sure thing you can use a knife, sweetheart, but what happens when you’re too far? y’gonna throw your knife at a ghost?”

“well that’s why i have you and sammy.” you shrugged, to which earned you a jab in the back from dean.

“keep your back straight.” dean rumbled, eyes rolling at your overt smartness.

“ow.”

“yeah, you’re gonna feel an ‘ow’ when you’ve got claws down your body. back straight, eyes on the target.” you took note of how his father’s drill training peeked through his orders to you, even after all these years.

you huffed, fixing your posture and lining up dean’s colt.

there was something twisted about such a pure, little thing using dean’s favoured weapon.

not only had he used it on countless demons, ghosts, werewolves- heck people too. but you remembered the first time time he had used it on you.

on a hunt, not too long ago, he caught you staring a little too mindlessly towards him.

well, not towards him. more so the colt.

and when you had told him later that night that you wanted him to use it on you, he seemed, at the time, a little taken aback, hesitant even.

however, you watched, writhing under him, as that hesitance turned into malevolence and instead of giving himself to you that night, he gave you only his gun.

“come on baby, work for it.” dean coaxed, admiring your contorted face and your wanton whimpers.

“you gonna shoot that anytime soon?”

fuck, now you were wet.

“sorry, m’just distracted.” you mumbled, furrowing your brows, determined to actually shoot now. “focusing now.”

dean was still behind you, heavy grip on your elbows, heavy breath in your ears.

yeah we’ll see about focusing.

dean had no intention to distract you by any means, in fact it was his idea for you to learn how to use a gun- “sam and i aren’t always gonna be there. and i don’t plan on you leaving anytime soon either.”

but you were taking way too long trying to shoot a target less than six feet from you, and dean never has any objections to a bit of fun.

he watched as your index finger finally began to apply pressure over the trigger. his mind calculating when exactly to introduce some fun into this little training session.

dean slowly took his hands off yours, letting it snake down to rest on your waist.

“dean, what are you doing?” your voice had already begun to shake, the weight of the colt feeling heavier as your palms started sweating.

“nothin’. focus.” dean dismissed, his hand traversing down, down, until he found the buttons on your jeans, toying with them until he hit the band of your panties.

“dean.” there was no way you were concentrating at all on that tree anymore.

“let’s play a little game, huh? the closer you are to the target, the closer i get to where you really want me.” his fingers slipped under the waistband of your underwear. “that sound fair, sweets?”

instead of answering, you pulled the trigger, the bullet burning a hole in the tree 20 centimetres above from where you wanted it to go.

“that a yes, huh?” he grunted in your ear “but, i said the target, baby.”

“dean.. please.” you huffed out, eyes rolling as your head fell back onto his shoulder, the gun almost slipping out of your hands.

“monsters are more distracting. shoot. right in the middle, i know you can do it baby, come on.” dean’s voice was gruff in your ear, sending an entire wave of shivers down your spine.

you glanced down as his hand crept closer to where you craved him, edging around your clit, but never touching it.

inhaling, you straightened your back, shook away the shivers, and regained your grip on his colt.

“that’s a girl.” dean whispered, nipping your earlobe before granting you a sickly sweet kiss, stark in contrast to the current situation. he felt you whimper into the kiss before pulling away, not yet granting you any such reward.

this time you tried not to think as hard. yes thinking too hard would send you over the edge, resulting in a punishment from dean, but you also tried to rationalise- you wouldn’t be thinking too much if you were being chased by a demon, right?

the second shot was much better and much closer, not smack in the middle like he wanted but close enough for dean to finally reward you with attention to your aching clit.

“come on baby, third times the charm.” now dean was moving his right hand from your right elbow, allowing it to slip under your shirt and rest upon your left tit.

“s’too much, dean. please.” he could tell from the whiny tone of your voice that you had begun to tear up.

oh, he’d give you something to cry about.

without warning, he stuck his middle finger into you, letting the heel of his palm push against your core.

“see how nice i am? hmm?” he grunted, digging his finger and palm into you. “now, you make that shot and i’ll give you what you want. if not, all you’ll have tonight is that there colt.”

now that drew a moan out of you.

“we’ve a deal, pretty girl?” dean nosed at the side of your face, grinning slightly at your torment.

nothing but a pathetic hum, bordering a grumble, came out.

a mumble of ‘good girl’ came out of his mouth and into your hair as he resumed his movements inside.

just like the previous two times, you repeated your actions. straight back, tight grip. and just like the last time, you tried your damndest to clear your mind. even though it was harder now with his finger in you, moving with more fervour and more dexterity.

you bit your lip in both concentration and suppression of a throaty moan. your finger, once again, gripped the trigger as you pressed down, your eyes following the bullet as it hit the target.

smack. in. the. middle.

you began smiling but your celebration was cut short by dean finally moving as fast as you wanted, adding another finger, just as you wanted and finally, turning you around so he could kiss you. just as you wanted. finally making you cum, just as you wanted.

“atta girl. knew you could do it. baby just needed a bit of encouragement, huh?” dean goaded. through your concentration and your post-orgasmic haze, you hadn’t noticed that dean had taken himself out of his confines, allowing you to feel just how hard he was.

with as much might your jelly-legs could muster, you jumped onto him, caging him as you pushed him backwards on the hood of his impala parked conveniently behind you.

“you want this, baby? want me to fuck you on my car?” he tugged your head back by your hair to watch your reply- jaw slack with a hastened nod and moan. “dirty girl.”

you let his mouth envelop yours before he spun you both around, setting your back onto the car. from here, you could see just how desperate you were for him, a collection of your juices had darkened his boxers, a little on his open fly, catching the light of the cloudy sun.

you carried on staring, eyes glazing over as he lined himself up with your entrance, that beautiful sting electrifying as he settled deep into you.

“dean.” you whined. your hands had moved from holding his midsection to cradling his face as your nails dug into his neck, bringing him into a kiss that was purely teeth and tongue, encouragement for him to keep moving.

a few, albeit long, minutes pass of dean rocking in and out, in and out of you with the occasional kiss or tug at each others hair, all the while your moans of his name and other incoherencies fill the air of the murky woodland dean had sought out for your ‘lesson’.

oh what a lesson this was.

dean found himself moving faster now, his hands and hips most likely bruising you. he would be lying if he said that’s not what he wanted. swallowing one of your breathy moans once again, his thumb moved to your clit, bringing you to the edge right next to him.

the twittering of crows were now drowned out by mumbles of ‘dean’, ‘so good’ and other mismatched phrases, stark in contrast to your usual eloquence.

“come on baby, cum with me. come on.” dean goaded, his thrusts getting harsher as his words got more strained.

obedient as always, you took the thumb of the hand cradling your head into your mouth, sucking, licking, biting on it as your brow-bone tilted up- both signs of your ever-approaching orgasm.

soon enough, ramblings of heated compliments were overtook by the increasing pitch and tone of moans, the last articulate sentence being dean’s- a simple warning of his seed spilling into you falling from his pout lips, enough to push you over the edge you’d been teetering on for the past ten minutes.

ever eager to please, you let go.

spasm after spasm washed over you as dean watched from above, cheshire cat-smile across his face as he watched yours contort when he pulled out to stand and admire his handiwork.

he waited and watched as you sat up on the impala, leaning on your hands. dean revelled in the way your hair tangled, your tits spilling from the tank you wore, matching the dark-wash jeans that had bunched up around your knees.

you were in bloom. and oh how he basked in it.

[miraclewoozi]

DO YOU DREAM OF ME? - c.hs

the first time you kiss your soulmate, you’ll open your eyes to a world of colour. the problem? vernon hates the thought that he might pull away from you and still see in monochrome.  or, five times he wanted to plant one on you, and the one time you beat him to it. 

pairing ; vernon x gn!reader.  content ; all the tropes. 5 times fic. soulmate au. slight college au if you squint. f2l. fluff, some angst. pining. one (1) hint of suggestiveness if u squint. MINORS STILL DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT.  content notes ; mentions of reader having a(n unnamed) partner & thereafter, going through a breakup due to said partner cheating. reader is maybe implied to be shorter than him but hopefully not too obviously or frequently. alcohol is mentioned & is a key theme in scene #3. pov switch for the final part (necessary for logistical reasons.) PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c ; 9.6k note ; welcome to thee most self indulgent fic ever lmao. i hope u enjoy this slight break away from what i usually post here (as if my entire brand isn’t writing losers in love. ANYWAY) -- this was very fun and a little bit special for me! <3

“What was your first kiss like?”

Initially, Vernon swears he just didn’t hear you right. It’s dark up here, where you’re hiding away from a party on the roof of his university accommodation and he’s starting to get tired. There’s some sort of siren wailing away in the distance to his left, and on the street below, a gaggle of freshmen are cackling as they walk past the building. His ear closest to you is currently listening to your favourite song. 

All the signs suggest that he simply got it wrong. 

But he doesn’t know if he believes those signs, especially not seeing as when he looks over at you, you’re staring pointedly up at the stars overhead. He doesn’t doubt that you’re giving yourself an ache in your neck in the process, too.

“Hmm?” He asks, taking out the earphone that connects him to you. The other one is still nestled away in your ear and he reaches to gently pull it away. “What was that?”

You still don’t look at him, but you do repeat yourself. Quietly. “What… was your first kiss like?”

“Oh.” 

He was right. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” you hurry to say, hugging his jacket tighter around yourself to block out the cold air that blows across the rooftop. He shrugged it off and told you to take it the very moment your teeth started chattering — almost an hour ago now. His arms are bare, shoulders and biceps only covered by a t-shirt so thin it’s practically sheer, but he isn’t cold. He’s always run hotter than most. “Sorry.”

He nudges you with his knee, silently telling you that you don’t need to apologise. He doesn’t mind — you just caught him off guard; Vernon hasn’t given this any thought in a long time, and he has to really put his mind to coming up with an answer. It was forever ago — when he was eleven or twelve, maybe, with his first ever girlfriend. They dated for a whole two and a half weeks. He doesn’t know if it really counts: the kiss was a dare, after all. 

“Kinda…” He starts, trying to follow the line of your sight, wondering if he can find the exact stars you’re looking at. “She’d just put this weird lipgloss on. It was real tingly. And like, neither of us knew what we were doing? So it… got everywhere. I think I ended up swallowing some, I don’t know. My mouth felt weird after. Thought I was having an allergic reaction.”

You laugh softly at him. “I think that would put me off for the rest of my life,” you say. 

“It almost did,” he chuckles. You hum at him and lean back on your elbows, leaving Vernon more than a little bit confused. He readjusts his hold on his knees, bringing them closer to his chest as he tilts his head down at you in your new position. 

“…why?” He asks, just as you close your eyes and take a deep inhale of the cool air. 

You just shrug. “I guess I just… wondered.”

He nods, and it’s his turn to fall short of a response, but that’s okay. You’ve known each other for too long for these silences to feel uncomfortable. He grew up with you. In fact, he’s reasonably sure he’s told you this story before. He must have done. 

Then he realises, maybe he hasn’t. Because he doesn’t know the story behind yours, and maybe that’s just a line the two of you never came to crossing. He knows he told his other friends, back then, because he was the last one in his circle to have a first kiss and he felt like it made him more grown-up, or something. Naturally, he left out the more embarrassing details. But maybe you just told your other friends who weren’t him, and went on with your life. Maybe yours was just… normal. 

Either way, he’s interested now. And there’s no time to ask like the present. 

“What was yours like?” He asks, fiddling with the strap on his wristwatch. You don’t answer straight away; he doesn’t think anything of it, because neither did he, but when he’s still waiting for you to speak a small eternity later, he prompts you again. “Hey, it can't have been worse than mine.”

You snort. 

“You’ll laugh at me,” you say, shaking your head. Vernon furrows his brows and drops his legs flat, twisting to one side to look at you. 

He doesn’t know where you’d get that idea from, but he’s… almost a bit offended by it?

“No I won’t,” he tells you softly. Maybe at first, he might’ve laughed with you, if your story happened to be as dumb as his own. But not at you. Never at. Not when he’s been the butt of the joke in too many friendship circles, for about as long as he can remember. 

You take a shallow breath, pursing your lips. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not…” you start to say, before you clear your throat and try again, this time heading in a different direction. “I don’t know. It’s dumb, I guess.”

“Don’t make me come down there,” Vernon threatens playfully, poking you in your side. You squirm, giggling despite yourself, despite the serenity of the sanctuary you two have found, despite the fact that you, too, were on the edge of falling asleep before your question came out of nowhere.  

He pokes you again, and again, and then starts to tickle your ribs instead. You squeal, swatting his hands away to no avail and you move to sit up, grabbing him by the forearms to physically make him stop. The grin on Vernon’s face is wide and heart-shaped. A warm feeling spreads through him: it has everything to do with the sweet sounds of your slowly dissolving laughter. 

You sit cross-legged across from each other like this for a moment or two. Your knees are touching. Your hands move down his arms until you’re holding him firmly by the wrists. Your eyes lock together: his crease with the sheer force of his boyish smile, while yours are narrowed, daring him to try and wiggle free and attack you again. 

He doesn’t, but for the first time ever, he’s struck with the urge to do something maybe more scary. 

The urge to just… lean in to you. 

It makes his heart do a backflip, in a way that it hasn’t done since he had his last crush. His head goes empty, and he forgets what he was even asking you before: the only thoughts he can muster are ones regarding what your lips taste like, whether they’re half as soft as they look, if you’d lightly touch his shoulder or his arm or his chest or his cheek—

Do you smile when you kiss?, he wonders. Do you sigh? Do you—

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” you answer, looking away now and letting go of him. He’s gone so loose in the moments since you grabbed hold of him that when you’re not supporting their weight, his arms fall like two cinder blocks onto his knees. 

True to his word, he doesn’t laugh. He’s surprised by your revelation, sure, but in no way humoured; actually, he feels a little saddened by it, for a reason he can’t put his finger to. He ends up not saying anything, just biting the inside of his cheek; he wants to ask why, but knows maybe that’s a bit of a dick move, and if it’s something you’re sensitive about he doesn’t want to risk hurting you.

But he’s watched people fawn over you for years, and he doesn’t think you’ve ever been short of attention from those who have thought you were attractive. So it can’t be that you’ve been lacking in chances? Surely?

“I thought… maybe I should save it,” you go on to explain. Your hands keep busy by playing with a thread at the cuff of his jacket sleeve, wrapping it around one finger until the skin beneath it pinches before you unravel it again. 

“Save it?” He asks. You nod your head.

“For when I thought I’d found them.” You pause, swallowing hard. “Like I said, it’s s—.”

“No it’s not,” Vernon says abruptly, shaking his head. He holds onto you now, one hand slipping around your back until it rests on the shoulder furthest away from him. You scoff. He squeezes you into his side. “Hey. It’s not stupid.”

He doesn’t like how this admission has, somehow, made his desire to kiss you stronger. He hates that he feels even more drawn to you, a magnet finally finding its opposing pole. It freaks him out a little. He’s never wanted to kiss anyone this badly. 

Red button theory, he tells himself to try and get back on the straight and narrow. If you hadn’t said anything, none of this would be happening.

“It’s romantic,” he says finally, swiping his thumb in small motions over the top of your shoulder. You nod, mumbling a ‘thank you’ (for what, he isn’t sure), and shiver. Vernon doesn’t know if that’s because of his proximity to you or because you’re finally starting to feel the cold. Either way, he takes the initiative to stand up and holds a hand out for you to take so he can tug you to your feet too. You get up with a little hop. 

It’s… devastatingly cute.

“Where are we going?” You ask, brushing off your jeans before shoving your hands into the jacket’s pockets. He’s already on the retreat, walking backwards towards the door that took you up here.

“To get food,” he tells you, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That party was dead, anyway.”

It doesn’t cross his mind again until your twenty-first birthday. 

He’s not your soulmate. He couldn’t be. The thought he had on the roof that autumnal night was little more than a passing fantasy; besides, he doesn’t have a thing for you. He doesn’t want to kiss you, or date you, or have you be his soulmate. The reason you work so well together is because you’re just friends; he thinks you’d drive each other crazy if things ever went romantic between you. You bicker with him for sport. He drowns away hours at a time with his headphones clamped over his ears and forgets to answer your texts. It would be a nightmare. 

Not that he’s ever thought about all that. Not actively, or even passively. Not when he should be listening to college lectures instead, for example. Not awake, nor in his dreams. He hasn’t. Not once. 

He swears. 

“You can save it ‘til tomorrow, if you want.”

Vernon bounces his leg nervously, fidgeting with the edge of your comforter as you sit on the floor in front of him, styling your hair for your party. He arrived half an hour ago while you were still waltzing around in your bathrobe, holding a small, neatly wrapped box in both of his hands. It’s several degrees too warm in your bedroom. He feels a bead of sweat roll down his back as you grumble what seems to be a threat at a strand that won’t cooperate. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice his discomfort. (If you do, he’s grateful that you don’t say anything.)

“But it’s my birthday today,” you pouted, taking the box from him. “Let me finish getting ready, then I’ll open it. Come on.”

His wrist still aches with the pressure you held onto him with as you dragged him up the stairs. Your parents are away for the weekend and the house is all yours, so there’s a speaker blasting your favourite playlist full volume on your nightstand and there’s nobody to tell you to turn it down. He flits his attention between his phone and watching you, but he can’t fully concentrate on either; he’s too nervous that maybe you won’t like his gift, and he’s never been the type to splash out on birthday presents before but this… well, it burned a hole in his wallet, that’s for sure. 

“Okay. Wait here,” you tell him as you push up off the floor, limping on the leg that had started to fall asleep thanks to the way you were sitting. 

“All right,” he says back. As if he’d go anywhere, anyway. 

You grab a hanger from inside your closet and scurry off down the hall to the bathroom. For the first time, Vernon feels like he can actually breathe. He drops his phone onto the comforter between his crossed legs and cradles his head in his hands, telling himself that he needs to get it together. You’ve never not liked anything he’s given you, and you’ve known him now for more birthdays than you haven’t. 

Your friends said you’d love it. So did your mother, with a sparkle in her eye as she held it delicately in her fingers. He has nothing to worry about. It’s only you.

And yet—

“You’ll be honest if it looks bad?” You call from the other side of the door, interrupting how his lips move wordlessly in an endless mantra of self-reassurances. 

Vernon snaps his head up and he clears his throat, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “Aren’t I always?” He answers.

You click your tongue, evidently disagreeing, but you pull the handle and take a step into the room anyway. When you see him, he looks exactly as he did when you left, no trace of his anxieties anywhere to be seen on his face or otherwise. 

When he sees you, he feels like the world could end any moment and he’d be okay with that. 

His mouth runs dry and his eyes seem to be stuck open, unblinking, fixated on you in your all black outfit as you stand still as a statue with your hands behind your back. You cough quietly, waiting for some kind of a response other than a dumb stare, but it doesn’t come. 

Eight seconds later… still nothing. 

“Do you hate it?” you fret, because Vernon is a very good hype-man and you’ve never known him struggle to find something positive to say. “All right, uh— okay—”

“No!” He rushes, almost shouting in his urgency to assure you that that’s not the case at all. He scrambles up to his feet, taking a breath, and pushes a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out lately, and he kind of hates how his fingers catch on a tangle even though he brushed it meticulously before he left his apartment. You keep telling him it looks good, though, so he hasn’t been to get it cut. “God, no. I’m sorry. You look amazing.”

It doesn’t sound like much to the untrained ear, but the warmth of his compliments comes less in the words he says and more in the sincerity he says them with. Your face softens, and Vernon can see the way the thoughts of changing into something else fizzle out behind your eyes. He takes a backwards step to try and tempt you further into your own bedroom, and you move in tandem with him, closing that space and coming better into the light. 

“Wow,” he says, swallowing hard and looking you up and down. “I-… wow.”

It’s your turn to clam up, now. You look down at the floor, kicking at the carpet with your toes. “Shut up,” you say. “I’m not...”

“Yes, you are,” he protests, leaving no room for argument as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know who you’re trying to impress but… yeah, it’s gonna work.”

You walk past him with a scoff, barging against his shoulder on your way; he dramatically staggers to the side, rubbing at the impact site, laughing. When he faces you again, you’ve picked the gift up from the end of your bed and are moving to sit on the mattress yourself. Your eyes flicker between Vernon and the empty space in front of you. He takes the hint, settling back down with one foot tucked beneath him, the other still planted on your rug. 

His heart shoots back up into his throat and he stares down at the box, licking over his lips and frowning at how dry they feel. He glances away, lifting a hand to his mouth, running his fingertips over his lips. What would they feel like pressed against yours? He thinks, and then he cringes again. 

You misread his reaction and hesitate with your finger pressed underneath a strip of tape, tilting your head at him. “What’s going to jump out at me when I open this?” 

“Nothing,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. “What do you take me for?”

“The kind of guy who puts glitter in birthday cards because he thinks it’s funny,” you retort, earning a click of his tongue. 

“That was one time!”

“One time too many.”

“I swear,” he laughs, tight shoulders easing, both hands falling to his lap. “No sparkles, no loud noises, nothing jumpy. Cross my heart.“

You eye him a little suspiciously but eventually tug your finger beneath the wrapping and make the first rip in the paper, allowing you to tear into the gift after keeping Vernon on edge for almost an hour and a half. You peel it away and it falls to the bedsheets, in your hands now a small, square box not too dissimilar a shade to your comforter. You look from it, to him, and he thinks you notice how his cheeks are a little darker than they were before. 

He nods at you once and you slowly pull it open. On a plush, velvety bedding sits an elegant, dainty bracelet. A small gemstone is set in the metal of the bar in the middle of the chain. You skim a thumb over it, your breath held.

“Vernon,” you murmur, tearing your eyes away from the bracelet to look at him. Now, even the tips of his ears have grown flushed, but you’re kind enough not to comment on it to avoid spoiling the moment you’re in. “This is…”

“The lady in the store said it was your birthstone,” he says, twiddling his thumbs. “I mean… I’m really just taking her word for it, ‘cause they all look the same to me, but—”

He’s interrupted as all of your weight topples against him, arms thrown around his neck in a hug. He hesitates a moment before he wraps his own around your waist, drops his head to your shoulder and he smiles wider than he thinks he ever has. “Happy Birthday,” he says, dragging his thumb up and down over your hip. 

“Silly,” you scold him playfully, still pressing wholly against him and showing no signs of moving. Your voice sounds thick, a little like you’re tearing up, so Vernon squeezes you tighter. 

“I know you are,” he chuckles. “But what am I?”

You swallow hard, finally now pulling away from the hug but sitting entirely too close for comfort, one knee pressing into the outside of his thigh. 

Your surprise attack has left him dishevelled. With a quiet apology, your fingers innocently try to smooth everything back into place, but Vernon doesn’t hear you say you’re sorry. His pulse, thundering in his ears, drowns it out while also skipping a beat with each little touch. You’re not looking into his eyes as you shyly put him back to rights, too busy working to tame his — at the best of times — unruly hair. 

He’s looking into yours though, and he can’t stop. 

Your eyes, which dart all over to find strands out of place, so your hands can move them to where they ought to sit and lay them down flat. Your eyes, that drop down the length of his throat as you realign the neck of his t-shirt over his broad shoulders. 

Your eyes: the ones crinkled at the corners as you pick the bracelet back up from your bed and admire it under your bedroom light. Your eyes, landing on his, finally, in a silent plea for help. 

“The best?” you answer, now, extending your wrist to ask him to put it on you. He takes the chain from your fingers and unclasps it, slipping it beneath your hand and holding it in place. 

“I know you are,” he says again, but it’s quieter now as he concentrates on trying to reconnect the two pieces. “But what am I?”

When he successfully fastens your gift onto your arm, he looks up to see your watery eyes still staring down at it. He decides this is the time to reveal part two of the surprise. Pulling up the sleeve of his t-shirt, he reveals his own wrist to you, and you now see there’s a matching chain hanging off it. A little stone set in the metal. His stone, presumably. You choke out a laugh around your tears, shaking your head. 

“You got us friendship bracelets,” you giggle, holding your hand next to his and admiring them together. Your skin touches and he feels butterflies erupt in his stomach, which he hasn’t felt around you since…

He nods, breathing a chuckle too. “Yeah,” he says. His heart is pounding. “I guess I did. Is… that okay?”

“I love them,” you insist, leaning forward to affectionately press your lips to his cheek. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Your doorbell sounds downstairs and Vernon’s words die in his throat. Maybe that’s for the best, though; he’s got so much nervous energy rising up inside him and he’s scared it might accidentally force up something he’ll regret saying. You spring off the bed again, fussing in the mirror, and he watches you rush out the bedroom warbling about how you’re not ready for anyone to be here yet. It’s too early. What’s going on? Who is it?

He shifts his legs so both his feet are planted on the floor, letting out a breath he doesn’t remember sucking in. 

I love them. Thank you, you said. 

It’s perfect. 

He groans when he stands up, too, tugging his sleeve back down as he starts to follow after you.

“I know you are,” he mumbles under his breath, hearing your relieved laughter at it just being the FedEx man on your doorstep. It makes him feel warm. Everywhere. “But what am I?”

Five hours later, Vernon is seeing double. 

He has Seungkwan’s hands massaging the tops of his shoulders and there are two Juns sitting across from him at your dining table. He remembers feeling fine around 9pm, distinctly: like nothing he drank was having any kind of effect on him. Like he could walk home on his hands — like he was invincible. Now, after spending exactly five minutes out in the fresh air, he’s blinking four times for every breath he takes and his friends’ voices keep phasing in and out of focus.

“But what if they’re not?” Vernon stresses for the eighth time, fingers clumsily peeling at the label on his bottle.

“And what if they are?” Jun tries. Again. Also, for the eighth time, because apparently when Vernon gets tipsy, his skull gets really really thick and nothing in the world can penetrate it. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Vernon shakes his head, sitting back so heavily that his chair tips and he sends Seungkwan stumbling into the wall behind them. His friend gives up trying to rub the stupid out of him and settles into the chair at Vernon’s side instead. 

“I don’t know-…”

“If you’re about to say you don’t know what you’ll do if it isn’t them, I’m putting you in an Uber and sending you home.” Seungkwan claps his hand down onto Vernon’s knee for good measure. “It’s not even been a day.”

Vernon groans, threading his fingers into his hair and tipping his head back. “It hasn’t, though,” he whines. “What if it’s been like this since… and I just kept ignoring…”

Jun and Seungkwan exchange a look. An exhausted one. They both know Vernon turns into a complete baby when he’s had a drink and can just about manage a trip to the bathroom without somebody holding his hand, but neither of them have seen him like this before. Neither of them want to see him like this ever again.

Hell, neither of them want to be dealing with him like this right now.

“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Jun’s (remarkably) calm voice repeats as he pushes up from his seat and glances towards the doorway. His ears lock onto a voice just beyond it, and in an instant, the older man recognises his chance at an exit. He casts an apologetic glance at Seungkwan, who has resorted to rubbing Vernon’s earlobes to try and get him to stop stressing, and he dips out before either of them can argue. 

On his way, though, he throws in a sly little remark. One that raises Vernon’s– and Seungkwan’s– blood pressure to a level that would get them prescribed a week of strict bed rest.

“Besides – everyone can see the two of you were practically made for each other.”

Vernon whips around to face Seungkwan with shock written into every line of his face. It paints perfect full-signal WiFi creases on his forehead; it makes his jaw hang loose. 

“I– what?” Vernon splutters, shooting a hand to the back of his head. Seungkwan hasn’t taken his eyes off the doorway since Jun slipped through it. Vernon doesn’t notice the fact that his older friend’s full genetic line is currently being cursed out. “What does he mean?”

“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” Seungkwan tries, now acutely aware of the fact that Jun has just given Vernon a nudge he should never have. There’s a fine line between bolstering a friend and straight-up causing chaos. This could get messy. Seungkwan doesn’t like messy.

But… It's too late. 

Before Seungkwan can wrangle him back into his seat, Vernon has broken away from the table and is on the hunt for you. Seungkwan follows behind, doing his best to summon Vernon back, but he can’t. He’s on a mission now. And maybe that mission involves giving in to the thing that eats away at his brain when he should be waist-deep in music theory assignments. Maybe that mission is to finally, after two years, know what it feels like to kiss you. He’s going to find you, so help him God. He has to. 

And yes. He does. He finds you, eventually. As soon as he reaches the top of the staircase, there you are. 

Being pressed into the wood of your bedroom door, wrapped up in the arms of some pretentious looking art student in an oversized button-down and baggy, ripped jeans. Your mouth is covered by theirs, your fingers are threaded through those glossy fucking locks, both of you are laughing breathlessly as you drop one hand and it fumbles blindly to reach for the doorknob. 

Vernon spins away, turning his back as he hears the door click. At this exact moment, Seungkwan comes stumbling up the stairs too and plants his forehead into Vernon’s sternum. 

But his good friend’s skull is not the only thing Vernon is struck with, not the only thing knocking the wind out of him. 

Simultaneously, he’s swept up with the sobering realisations that either this guy is your soulmate, or you’re not the same person you were when you were nineteen. 

It’s eleven o’clock and two years later when he hears your secret knock on his apartment door. 

Maybe it’s luck. Maybe it’s fate. He only took his noise cancelling headphones off a few minutes ago before he washed up and settled into bed; his head has hardly even had time to make a dent in the pillows. But whichever force is at play, the thing that matters is that he hears you and he knows it’s you, straight away. He doesn’t remember how it started, exactly. He thinks it might have been while he was in his exam-season hermit stage in his first year of university and refused to come to the door unless it was something important. 

You’ve been knocking the same way for years now though, and he slides out of bed with creased brows at how desperate your fist sounds as it pounds against the wood. He pulls on an old t-shirt and perhaps the loosest fitting pair of shorts anyone’s ever owned, at least making himself decent before he answers. He’s still tying the drawstring when he gets to the door.

When he looks through the peep-hole to make sure he’s right, you’re drying your eyes on the back of your sweatshirt sleeve. You’re shivering quite violently, and you’ve got a bag on your shoulder that’s weighing you down on one side. Vernon’s heart sinks. He unbolts the door, pulling it open just as you lift your hand to knock again; your knuckles punch the air between you as your eyes land on him, and your bottom lip wobbles in despair. 

You fall into his chest with a sob. Tears start to soak their way through his shirt until it clings to the skin underneath. 

“Hey,” he soothes you, locking his arms so tight around you that there’s a strong chance they’re the only thing holding you upright. 

“I didn’t— know where else to go—” you choke out, your arm trapped between your chest and his as he rests his head on top of yours and pats your back softly. “I’m s-”

“Don’t you dare,” he murmurs, tilting his chin down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay. I’m here. You can always come to me.”

He holds you until your shakes start to subside, trying to talk you through whatever this is with soft reassurances and gentle shushing sounds. When you pull back from him, Vernon guides you into his apartment, flicking on the lamp in his living room so he can see to settle you down on his couch. He throws a blanket over your legs before he sits down himself, pulling your hand into his lap and holding it between both of his own, his thumb moving absently over your knuckles. You’re still crying, but when you shuffle against the seat to be a little more comfortable and finally turn to face him, he finds his voice long enough to ask you what happened. 

“He kissed— kissed someone else,” you tell him, sniffling and shaking your head. 

His blood reaches boiling point in what must be record time and he knows he accidentally starts to grip your hand tighter, but he can’t stop. 

“He what?”

Vernon knows this guy wasn’t your soulmate. You told him, a few days after your birthday. You said everything was still black and white when you pulled back from the first of — what you spared no detail in explaining was — many, many, many kisses with him that evening. But you didn’t care. Not then, and not for the whole time you’ve been together. 

He asked you about it once. About four months in (when he figured things were starting to get serious), late at night, if it bothered you. Whether you were going to keep seeing him. If you still thought about finding your soulmate. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget what your replying message said. 

I mean, sure, I’m curious. But maybe I don’t need to see in colour. I think being in love is enough :)

So… you were in love. 

With someone who wasn’t him. 

He didn’t speak to anyone — not even you — for two whole days after that. He felt like he’d gone ten rounds with a peak-form George Foreman. He felt like he’d never be able to get rid of the pit that had developed in the depths of his gut. He couldn’t sleep, he could barely eat, he couldn’t focus: it was the worst he’d ever felt.  And, well… Vernon knew it was immature. He knew he was acting like a child. If he could’ve shaken it off, the way he’s always done with so many of the things in his life that have bothered him, he’d have loved to. But he couldn’t.

Besides. Only about four people noticed his silence, anyway. You weren’t one of them; your boyfriend was keeping you plenty busy.

“He went to a club and got completely wasted and he— he—” you say, squeezing his hand even tighter than he’s holding yours. “But-… he says he-…” Hiccup. “Everything. Straight away — his…”

You don’t need to say it out loud; if anything, he’s a little disgusted with himself that he didn’t figure this out sooner. “His soulmate,” Vernon ruefully finishes for you. He groans the words out, feeling rotten to his core. “I’m so sorry…”

Your shoulders start to shake and he wastes no time in pulling you sideways against him, both his arms locked around you again, just like before. 

“It’s so stupid,” you cry, laughing emptily. His stomach turns; he hates this. Your anguish is an assault on his eardrums, especially when he’s got you so close, but he tries so hard not to flinch, not to move away. You need him, no matter how agonised it makes him feel. “I knew he wasn’t mine, but I thought-…”

Your voice fades away to nothing. You shake your head.

“You thought he was happy the same way you were,” he finishes again. You just nod, sobbing harder. “That's not—… stop saying the way you feel is stupid.”

Vernon doesn’t understand how that loser could ever not have been happy with you. How could he dream about going out in search of something more? Hell, Vernon doesn’t think there’s a soul alive better than you — how could anyone stand to just throw you away?

He wonders briefly if you can hear his heartbeat, thundering in his chest with the rage he feels all the way into his bones. You’ve always told him that you admire how chilled out, how collected he is, but Vernon has never felt less calm in his entire life. It’s only as he acknowledges that he has no right to feel like this, that he takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to bring his fever down. You mimic him, trying to do the same, and by the time his pulse starts to settle, you’re back to just sniffling against his shoulder. 

“Stay the night here,” he tells you. It isn’t a suggestion, or really even a request. It’s an order. There’s no room for negotiation. “We’ll go get your things in the morning. I’ll be right there with you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but Vernon gets there before you do. Before you can protest the offers he’s made. Before you can ask him if he’s sure. He knows you, a little too well: he knows these are the words that are going to come out of your mouth next. “I’m with you, okay? Always.”

You sit back from him with a quiet chuckle, wiping your eyes again on your damp sleeve. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” you murmur. “You’re the best— the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He just rolls his eyes at you and shakes his head, standing up from the couch. (I know you are, he thinks. This isn’t the time for jokes, though.) He wishes you knew what you mean to him; how, in his eyes, you deserve the world, presented to you on a shining silver platter. Wishes you knew that he’d give it to you if thought he could carry it. 

“Go wash up,” he says, ignoring the ache in his chest at the way your watery lashes flutter when you look up at him. “I’ll find you something to sleep in.”

He locates a spare toothbrush from a travelling kit he’s never used and sets a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the heated towel rail, leaving you alone in the bathroom to go about your business. You emerge some fifteen minutes later to find Vernon perched on the edge of his bed, scrolling through an app on his phone. He can’t help but swallow at the way his clothes fit you. How the steam from your shower clings to your skin, casts a heavenly haze around you. He hopes it isn’t obvious. This is about more than his dumb little crush. 

“Were you asleep?” You ask him, nodding towards his comforter, still pushed back on one side. He turns to glance over his shoulder, following the line of your sight, before he looks back at you and shakes his head. 

“Not even close,” he says. “I’d just got into bed when you got here.”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. Vernon doesn't think you look totally convinced, but he can’t force you to believe him, even if it is the truth. 

It’s unspoken but accepted that you'll sleep in the bed with him; he’s never let you stay on his couch when you spend the night, and you never agree to displacing him even though he always tries to insist he doesn’t mind. You’ve been friends for enough time now that it’ll never be weird to crawl beneath the sheets with him, anyway. At first, he didn’t really like sharing (he’s a bit… particular with how he sleeps, after all), but he got used to your weight on the mattress beside him quite quickly and makes a point to say he always sleeps better with you. 

He hasn’t curled up next to you for the night in over two years. It’s awful, that that’s what he thinks about now as he turns off the lights and you settle down, shuffling under the comforter until he slides in next to you in the dark and you can lay your head on his chest. He knows it’s selfish. He thinks it probably makes him a bad person, too. 

“Do you think—” you start to say, cut off by a long, vocal yawn. Your breath feels so warm through his t-shirt. “If you fall out of love with them… do the colours go away?”

With his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling he can’t even see, Vernon feels his heart shatter beneath the soft cushion of your cheek. He’s suddenly grateful he’s still fully clothed, as if the cotton barrier is the only thing stopping you from getting scratched by the splinters beneath his skin. He wonders if you hear it. It would be an easier explanation for why he doesn’t say anything than whatever his mouth could come up with, that’s for sure. 

“I don’t know,” he says after a few seconds too long. The arm wrapped around your shoulders slips down to your waist and he squeezes you. Briefly, he wonders if it can force your broken pieces back together. 

Vernon knows he would never do this to you. He’d never hurt you this way. Out of everyone he’s ever met, he thinks you’re the sweetest, the kindest, the most thoughtful of them all. The last person he’d ever wish a heartbreak upon. He even used to joke that he’d go to war with anyone who dared to try. 

But now he’s seeing it happen? He feels as if he really could. 

“I just hope you never have to find out,” he follows up, blinking back the thoughts that start to bubble away as your breaths slow down. 

He wrapped a band-aid around your finger when you got a papercut once and you asked him, then, if he would kiss it better. 

When you bumped your head in the playground, the same. 

He’d kiss it all better now too, if he could. He’d show you how you deserve to be loved. 

And he doesn’t just think it, anymore; Vernon knows that this makes him a terrible person. 

“I hope you don’t, either,” you mumble back. “... and I hope we find them soon.”

He’s so proud of you.

Okay, it never took much. He’s been proud of you for every good grade you’ve ever achieved, every doctor's appointment you booked for yourself, every trip to the dentist you stressed over. He’s been proud of you for finishing projects you were struggling with. Proud of you for learning new recipes. For every milestone, personal or professional, it’s the first thing he makes sure to say. 

[ hey, look at u go!!! proud of u :) ]

Now? He’s seen you crawl from rock bottom to the top of the world. It hasn’t been easy. There have been hurdles and barriers and sometimes, sixty foot high walls you’ve had to climb up and over, but you’ve done it. You’re thriving. Every time he looks at you, these days, if you’re not wearing a smile there are at least traces of one in your eyes, on your face, in your voice. Happiness suits you, and he’s so, so proud of you for getting here. 

He knows you’re doing better, because between Christmas and New Year, you asked him if he wanted to come to a party with you. At first, he wasn’t sure; the holidays left his wallet feeling a little light and he’s been on a really good streak of not drinking anything lately, but when you promised that you’d stay sober too, he kind of couldn’t say no. 

[ i just wanna see in the new year with my favourite person ever <3 ]

[ ha. flattery will get u everywhere ]

So here he finds himself, out in the backyard of somebody he’s never met, a can of Coke in one hand and your gloved fingers holding tightly onto the other. You dragged him outside at five minutes to midnight and — though he doesn’t know why — you decided you didn’t want to let go. Vernon certainly wasn’t going to be the one to make you. Your warmth down his left side is settling the slight unease he’s felt all evening while also making him feel tipsier than he’s ever been under the influence of any amount of soju; he thinks maybe this should scare him, but he’s just… so glad he came.

With sixty seconds until the clock strikes twelve, somebody stands up on top of the picnic table in the yard and starts to try and coordinate a countdown. With forty-five, Vernon squeezes your hand, butterflies where his stomach ought to be. With thirty, he takes a long drain of his drink, finishing it as if it’ll give him some courage, maybe, or… he doesn’t know. Zero sugar, zero caffeine — there’s no logic behind his process, just a lot of bubbles and artificially sweetened syrup. All the same, he crushes the can against his thigh and slips it into his pocket to throw away later. That alone relieves a bit of his adrenaline. 

Not enough, but some. 

With ten seconds remaining, the first shout drowns out the white noise in his ears, the chaos of his thoughts. 10. He joins them. So do you. 9. 8. Your voice is the loudest, the most excited sounding. You want this year to be over. You want the rest of your life to begin. 

7. 6. 5.

The crackers are set. Flames dance at the end of the garden on fire lighters, ready to send rockets shooting into the sky. 

Some people here are going to see them as they truly are. Brilliant and vibrant and colourful against the black canvas of the midnight sky. Vernon won’t. Neither will you. But what was it you said to him once?

4. 3.

Maybe I don’t need to see in colour. 

2.

For the first time, he thinks he agrees. The feeling of loving you, even if he never knows green from red, blue from orange? He doesn’t care. He has you. He loves you. That’s enough. 

1.

Happy New Year. 

As if dawn has broken early, the world becomes impossibly bright, pyrotechnics bursting not only over your own heads but everywhere, as far as his eyes can see. After the first few, he permits himself a glance over at your face: there are tears running down it, and his heart stutters, but then he hears you laugh. Brightly, wetly, more resonant than any of the booms and crackles and cheers he can feel all the way down to his toes. 

For whatever reason, Vernon starts laughing with you. 

You pull him closer into a bone-crushing hug and blink your damp lashes against the side of his neck. “Thank you for being here with me,” you say to him, practically shouting to be heard. “I love you so much.”

“I’m always gonna be with you,” he says as you pull back a little. Your arms are still around him. The chain of the bracelet he bought you all those years ago is bitterly cold against the back of his neck. He can’t feel his fingers anymore, all he knows is that they’re resting on the curve of your spine. He thinks he can see something in the way you look at him, so softly and tenderly and yet, in the twitch of your brow… 

Like you’re searching for something that might not be there. 

He knows his gaze moves in a perfect triangle — from your left eye, to your slightly parted, wind-chapped lips, to your right. He knows he stops breathing. He swears you do, too. Something builds — a spark catches, an energy festers, egged on by the curious murmurs of the people around you. 

You could do it, his brain tells him. 

So what if he’s a few minutes late for it to be traditional? Does it really matter? 

But he’s reminded, again, this time with a whizz and a boom and a crackle, that you aren’t his to have this way. His storybook moment fizzles out, the final firework bursting into sparkles overhead. He sees every one of your perfect features brighten in wonder as you tilt your head back to look up at it. Sees it beautifully reflected in your glassy eyes. He has about enough time to commit the image to memory before you clear your throat and finally step away from him, losing all touch for the first time since you came outside. 

One of your friends comes and pulls you into an embrace, before passing you along to someone else, and then someone else again. He loses you in the crowd that rushes to get back in the warm, but he makes no effort to move with them. He just stays out in the dark for a while with his own thoughts for company, shoving his frigid hands into the pockets of his jeans.

He’s happy, though. It’s like you said. 

Being in love is enough.

“There’s just one more thing,” you say as the waitress returns with your bank card and a receipt. Vernon slides you a look as he stands, picking up his jacket from the back of the chair he’s been sitting in. 

He shakes his head at you. “Whatever it is, it better not be edible,” he laughs. “I think this is the most full I’ve ever been.”

In other words, you’ve done enough already. Stop spending money on me. Please. Thankfully, your final surprise is in-keeping with his unspoken rule. 

His birthday rolled around way too quickly. The start of the year has been so chaotically busy; you swear, you’ve hardly seen him since he dropped you off home after the party. You moved out of your parents’ house for the second time a few weeks ago and settling in, unpacking boxes, sorting through clothes and belongings and trinkets has taken you much longer than you care to admit. You’ve been busy at work, too. So has he. Your social calendars have barely lined up at all. 

But you were determined to make plenty of time for him on his birthday. 

To Vernon, this has always just been another day. He’s never cared too much about big celebrations: as long as he can spend some time with people he cares about, he’s happy, and this year he’s managed exactly that. He saw his family this morning, had some friends drop by his apartment later in the day, and now, he’s with you. 

You’ve never been great at the laid-back approach, though. Not with him. How could you be, when he does so much for you, always without even batting an eye? When he deserves to be doted on, and adored, and thoroughly spoiled? It’s the same every year. You make a fuss, he playfully scolds you for it; you and he are creatures of habit. It’ll probably never change. 

This year, you invited him to your new place to open the gifts you’d bought him: the new speaker he kept saying he couldn’t justify buying, a record he looked at in the store a few months ago but never bought, a sweatshirt to replace the one you stole off him on New Years Eve. Some candies he likes. Then, after he finally stopped pouting and sighing that you really didn’t need to go to all this effort, you took him out for dinner, making a reservation for two at his favourite restaurant. 

The pouting continued. 

Only up until your appetisers came out, though. The moment your food was placed down in front of you, his eyes doubled in size and his lips became a little too busy to stay pursed. Your own dinner almost went cold with how fondly you sat and watched him. This year, you even spared Vernon the embarrassment of having the restaurant staff sing at the side of your table. 

All right, you have an ulterior motive, but… it’s the thought that counts, right? 

He holds the door open for you now as you thank the waitress who served you one last time and without him lowering his arm, you step into place beneath it. Tucked up into Vernon’s side, you’re as happy as you’ve ever been. Nervous, too, but… you have a good feeling. 

“Where to?” He asks as you fall into step together. 

“This way.”

You emerge from the shelter of the canopy outside the restaurant’s front door and immediately feel the cool tickle of a snowflake landing on your cheek. They started to fall while you were eating and Vernon couldn’t stop watching through the window, small specks that grew over the hour into big clumps that tumbled towards the ground. He’s always loved the snow, and there’s no real destination for this gift, anyway. You guide him to the left and watch as peace takes its rightful home on his beautiful features. 

“We’ve walked in a perfect square three times now,” Vernon says after a little while of meandering about in the dark, making comfortable small talk and laughing as the champagne bubbles in your stomachs continue to fizz away. “Where are we supposed to be going?”

You wondered how long it was going to take him to notice, or even if he was going to realise at all. Looking up and down the street you’re on, you stop in your tracks, standing beneath the same flickering street lamp that you’ve passed twice already. Your footprints trail both behind and in front of you, neither quite covered yet by the snowfall. You break into a laugh when you notice that the convenience store on your left has closed since the last time you came down this road. 

“I can get a map open, if…” Vernon starts, reaching into his pocket. You stop him, stepping out from under his arm and wrapping your hand around his wrist instead.

“I might’ve told a little white lie,” you confess, 

He halts with his phone only half pulled out, pushing it into his hip for fear of it falling if either of you let go. “What do you mean?” He asks. 

You know he’s probably thinking back to your earlier conversations, trying to figure out which part exactly is the mistruth you’re now admitting to. But whether he gets there on his own or not, he waits for you to answer. 

“I had it with me this whole time,” you explain, readjusting your hold on his covered forearm. His eyes dart downwards, looking at the site of contact, but he quickly lifts them back up to your face. “I was just… waiting for… ”

“What are you talking about?” Vernon asks. 

“Close your eyes.”

You know.

Unfortunately for your best friend, as hush-hush as he’s managed to be all this time, the same can’t be said for the other person he entrusts all his secrets to. A few weeks ago, when you’d called Seungkwan to coordinate timings for Vernon’s birthday plans, he’d accidentally let something slip. It was your suggestion of taking Vernon to dinner that did the trick. 

“Oh, he’s going to love that,” Seungkwan had gushed. You could hear the breadth of his smile down the phone and felt yourself growing hot at the compliment.

“You really think so?”

“Pfft. You could take him to the Eiffel Tower or to a drive-through KFC, and he’d still have hearts in his eyes – because it’s you.”

Of course, he attempted to do some damage control immediately after. Make out that he meant it in strictly platonic terms. But once the idea planted itself in your head, it sort of… made sense. You mulled it over for a couple of days but when you finally asked Seungkwan, deathly serious, if he really thought you stood a chance with Vernon?

He practically screamed ‘yes’ down the phone. 

“The last time you asked me to do this, you killed me at laser-tag,” Vernon says, narrowing his eyes. He surely doesn’t think you’re hiding a plastic gun underneath the coat he literally just watched you don, but he doesn’t do as you ask and you suck your front teeth at him.

“Luckily for you, I left all my weapons at home,” you counter. “Come on, please. Just… trust me.”

“Said that last time, too,” he snickers. But, to his merit, he finally does it. He takes in a breath and follows your instruction. “I swear to God…”

Selfishly, you take a moment to bask in how handsome he really is. His eyes twitch underneath his lids and snowflakes cling to his lashes, moving with them. It’s in his hair, too. On his shoulders. Melting on his cheeks, leaving small wet spots on his face. One lands perfectly on the tip of his nose. You would immortalise this moment, if you could.

It made sense, when you found out, because thinking back? Nobody has ever loved you how Vernon does. He shows it in so many ways – he sends you the songs that he hears and thinks you’ll like, the pretty photographs that he takes when he’s away for work, some variant of a ‘good morning’ text, almost every day. He massages your shoulders, lets you fall asleep on his lap, follows you around like an obedient puppy when you have errands to run just so you don’t have to do them on your own. 

He tries, and often fails, to cook you breakfast when you stay over. He brings you coffees, or lunch. He looks at you like you’re the moon and the stars. People have teased for years that you could be psychically connected. That you were cosmically united. That it was fate for Vernon to move into the house down the street from you when you were nine. To be the only other child your age on the block. 

Two people, perfect for one another, lives intertwined eternally by fate. Or, in other words…

“Are you…?” He asks, breaking the quiet that has only been filled with your cloud-forming breaths. 

“Give me a second,” you breathe. There’s no doubt in your mind.

You lean forward to kiss him softly, free hand settling against the side of his neck. In the February chill, Vernon freezes, no part of his body reacting to you except for his lips. Though they twitch in a gasp, they press back against yours as if he isn’t even thinking about doing it. As if it’s instinctual. As if he was always supposed to kiss you – as if he’s your…

There it all is, when you finally pull away.

Brown eyes, framed by fluttering lashes that untangle from one another to finally see you, too. Brown, you know, because when you asked your mother to tell you about Vernon’s colours when you were younger, that was the only one she told you, saying everything else might change when he got older. Warm, brown eyes. Glistening with every blink, blink, blink of the bulb above you. Pupils slowly dilating, drowning the colours out of view. You see his lids shoot wide as he realises, as he glances left and right, as he takes this new world in for the first time, too. 

“I knew it,” you say on a stuttered breath, so overwhelmed you could cry. “My soulmate.”

A brilliant smile threatens to split Vernon’s features in two as he cups your cheeks and pulls you back to him, kissing you again, and again, and again. 

“I know you are,” he says against your lips, his bare thumbs pink and cold as they press into your skin. And, before you can kiss him quiet – “but what ‘m I?”

thank u so much for reading, i really hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.<3

[jezebelblues]

I just started following you a while ago and I love your work so much, I was even considering restarting my blog to write!

I was wondering, can I request something about the reader being a college student? And maybe harry is taking a break from touring and writing music. He’d probably try to make jokes and distract her sometimes, but he’d also want her to teach him stuff and debrief after class. He might even get serious about her study sessions and be super quiet, but also bring her snacks here and there.

If you get to write this, thank you sm!! 😊

lady grinning soul | h.s

summary: see request ^ basically that, but it’s a slight au because harry isn’t tooooo famous in this

| thank u anon <3 ur too sweet. i hope u got back into writing

cw: fem!reader, unedited. bf!harry, lhh

word count: approx 4.4k

| sorry this took so long to get to! i’ve been in a slump. i hope you don’t mind either that i made him more of an up-and-coming artist rather than the fame he has today :^) lhh just felt right for this too he’s so bf

masterlist

"you did what?" YN laughed, her fingers coated in the smooth, familiar feel of one of harry's leave-in conditioners as she worked it into his damp curls, gently coaxing through knots and tangles that told stories of long nights and late shows.

harry sat on on leg while the other hung lazily off her bed, shirtless, his skin glistening faintly under the dim dorm lights, still cool and damp from his shower. a well-worn towel hung low on his hips, clinging to him in soft folds, and he twisted the silver ring on his index finger, flashing that crooked, boyish grin that still managed to make her heart skip.

"yes—water," he said, a hint of pride in his voice as he looked up at her through dark lashes. "poured it right into the crowd. they went mental."

she chuckled, focusing on a particularly stubborn knot as his head tipped back, giving her a better angle. "do i even want to know why you did that?"

"beer," he replied simply, with a lazy shrug and a mischievous glint in his eye. he shifted, turning to face her fully, the mattress giving a soft creak under his weight as he adjusted. "they were flinging beer at me, so i figured it was fair game. bit of payback," he said with a smirk, his voice deepening in that low, conspiratorial way that she adored.

her lips tugged into a soft smile as she leaned in, her eyes tracing the ink on his skin, pausing over the small mermaid tail curling near his elbow. she felt the room go still for a beat, her fingers just barely grazing his tattooed arm. "tell me more?" she murmured, barely above a whisper.

but instead of answering, he caught her hand in his own, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as he brought her palm up, pressing it gently against the warm, bare skin just below his left breastbone. his expression softened, and his voice dipped, tender and a little unsteady. "was thinking–right here. your initial." his gaze searched hers, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes that made her heart skip, lingering between them in a way that left her breathless.

a small, breathy laugh escaped her as she drew her hand back, fingers trailing down his chest as she settled back on the bed, her heart fluttering with that same familiar warmth that only he could draw out of her. "about the show, styles," she chided, though her cheeks had warmed at the idea. it was all she could do to keep her voice steady, even as that look in his eyes held her captive, that glimmer of something deeper, something unspoken.

with a lazy grin, he slumped back on her bed, folding his arms behind his head as if he owned every inch of this tiny dorm room. he was still her harry—the one who'd lean against her door at ungodly hours after a gig, smelling faintly of stale smoke and beer, his voice barely a murmur as he recounted the night's little victories and mishaps. but there was something else in his eyes tonight, an edge softened by the dim light, his hand inching toward hers, fingers grazing against hers.

he gave her a dramatic sigh, pretending to be exasperated, but she could see the way his eyes lit up, the pride he tried to hide. "alright, picture this—tiny, cramped stage, lights barely working, and a crowd that's already three drinks too deep."

she chuckled, already seeing it. "sounds like your crowd."

"my exact type.” he hummed, eyes glimmering. "i was halfway through kiwi when this guy in the front row starts singing louder than me. like, absolutely shouting every word—more like repeating guess, i don’t think he knew the lyrics—didn't care if he was off-key or not."

"oh no," she gasped, theatrics, biting back a grin. "how did you handle that?"

"well, first i tried to ignore him. y'know, be professional and all." he raised his chin, like he was already picturing himself on a real stage. "but then he threw his beer in the air, and half of it hit me, so i thought, why not join him?"

she felt the words settle over her, a quiet intimacy that wrapped around them, thick and warm. she let herself lean into him, their knees brushing, her hand finding his and lacing their fingers together. here, in this cocoon of her dimly lit dorm room, the outside world faded. it was just him-her’s, with his rough edges, inked skin, and soulful eyes that held a thousand unspoken promises.

"so," she murmured, her thumb tracing slow circles over his knuckles, "it was a good show then?"

a soft laugh escaped his lips, his eyes dancing as he looked at her. "good? better than good, baby." he said, a certain fire in his voice as he recalled the night. "place was packed-should've seen it. they might've only been there for the drink deals, but by the time we hit the first chorus, they were in it." he paused, a flicker of excitement lighting up his face as he leaned closer. "even had this one bloke shouting for an encore, practically begged us not t’leave."

she could see the pride, the kind that was so uniquely his—modest, but bursting at the seams, a quiet confidence that only she got to witness in moments like this. her heart swelled, and she squeezed his hand. "sounds like a big deal," she teased, her voice softening as she held his gaze. "next thing i know, you'll be playing to actual crowds, not just randoms at pubs."

"don't tease me," he chuckled, nudging her gently with his shoulder. "could happen. could be my big break, y'know? today, it's a back alley pub with sticky floors—tomorrow, a real venue." he looked at her, his expression shifting from playful to something quieter, almost vulnerable. "maybe even a place you'd be proud to be seen at."

she shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "h, i'm already proud of you." and she meant it—down to the core of her. there was a strength in his persistence, his dreams kept alive by late nights and small crowds, his music spilling into the shadows of empty bars and dim lights. it was the kind of resilience most people never understood, but it was something she loved about him, something that made him feel like home.

his hand shifted, cupping her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek as he searched her eyes. "how'd i get so lucky, yeah?" he murmured, almost as if to himself. he looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time, the weight of the night lingering between them, the quiet promise of everything they'd built together.

she tilted her face into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as she breathed him in-the faint smell of his shampoo, mingling with the scent of rain from outside and something warm, something distinctly him. her hand found his chest, fingertips resting over the steady beat of his heart.

"can i stay tonight?" he asked softly, his voice a low murmur against the backdrop of their shared silence.

she nodded, her lips brushing over his knuckles as she squeezed his hand. "wouldn't want you anywhere else."

with that, he leaned forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that felt like a thousand words, soft and slow, as if they had all the time in the world. harry's hand slid from her cheek down to her neck, his fingertips tracing a delicate line along her collarbone, sending a soft shiver through her. the playful glint in his eye had shifted, replaced by something deeper, a heat she felt all the way down to her toes. he inched closer, the rough rasp of his stubble brushing her jaw as his lips found the soft skin just below her ear.

"you're staring," she murmured, voice low, a smile on her lips as her fingers traced along his shoulder, her touch grazing the edge of his tattoo.

"can't help it." he whispered, his voice low and rough, leaving no question about what he wanted. his fingers trailed down her back, pulling her just a little closer as his towel slipped dangerously low on his hips, clinging to him in a way that left little to the imagination. "s'not every day i get my girl all to myself, undistracted." his fingers slipped just beneath the hem of her shirt, his thumb stroking slow, lazy circles along her hipbone, sending a faint shiver up her spine.

she felt herself melting into him, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw before wandering down to rest on his chest. his skin was warm, firm beneath her touch, and she felt the steady beat of his heart thrumming under her fingertips. just for a moment, she let herself get lost in it-the way his hands roamed, slow and sure, his lips brushing her neck, her jaw, her shoulder, each kiss igniting a trail of warmth.

but as his hands started to wander lower, his towel barely hanging on, she bit back a smile and placed her hand flat on his abdomen, feeling the firm, taut muscles tense under her touch. she let her fingers linger for a moment before giving him a light flick, snapping him out of the haze that had taken over.

he kissed his teeth, head snapping up, a shocked, slightly betrayed expression crossing his face as he met her gaze. she smirked, letting her eyes trail up and down him with a playful glint before meeting his eyes, her voice light and teasing.

"don't get too excited, styles. i've got an essay to write, remember?"

he blinked, looking adorably lost for a second, then let out a groan, throwing himself back on the bed in dramatic defeat, one arm flung over his face. "an essay, bunny? now?" he peeked at her from under his arm, a playful pout tugging at his lips. "you're really gonna make me lie here in agony while you write about... what? politics? shakespeare?"

"modern lit," she corrected, grabbing her laptop from the bedside table with a grin. she settled beside him, nudging his leg with her knee as he sighed in exaggerated frustration. "i'll make it up to you," she added, her voice sweet but her expression mischievous.

"is that right?" he asked, raising a brow, his mood instantly lightening as he leaned up on one elbow to watch her type. "what kind of 'make it up' are we talking, then?"

she rolled her eyes, though her smile softened.

"you're ridiculous, you know that?"

“mm-hm, i know,” he chuckled, unbothered. he kept his eyes trained on her as she adjusted the computer in her lap, fingers flying across the keys as she tried to ignore his gaze.

but she could already feel his fingers tracing idle patterns along her thigh, his head resting on her shoulder as he sighed dramatically, determined to make her work for it. “fine,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to her shoulder, knowing she wasn’t going to let up. “but don’t say i didn’t warn you when i’m too tortured to focus on my next gig.”

she shook her head, grinning. “i think you’ll survive.” and despite his protests, she felt him settle beside her, his hand wrapped loosely around hers as he waited, patient and easy, for the essay to be done—and for the night to be theirs again.

after a few more minutes of him sighing and shifting beside her, nudging her leg with his knee, or letting his fingers brush distractingly over her shoulder, she finally gave him a pointed look. “lovey, come on. at least put some pants on,” she said, biting back a laugh as he gazed up at her with an exaggerated look of betrayal.

“y’sure baby?” he mumbled, the corners of his mouth tugging into a cheeky grin as he adjusted the towel around his waist, letting it dip low enough to reveal the line of his hip bones. he leaned in close, his face just inches from hers. “last chance to give up on that essay.”

she rolled her eyes, shoving him lightly as she tried to suppress a smile. “h. pants. now.”

he sighed dramatically, rolling off the bed and muttering under his breath as he crossed the room, as if she’d asked him to do something outrageous. “you’re cruel, you know that?” he grumbled, pulling on a pair of briefs, followed by his well-worn grey sweatpants. he shot her a mock glare as he snapped the waistband into place. “i hope that essay’s worth it,” he teased, flopping back down on the bed with another exaggerated groan.

but he couldn’t keep up the act for long. settling beside her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her snug against him as he leaned over her, his gaze shifting to the screen of her laptop. she felt him press a quick kiss to the side of her head, and then he tilted his head curiously, reading the words on her screen. “alright, genius. what’re we working on?”

she grinned, knowing his curiosity was genuine—harry was the only person who ever asked about her classes, who remembered the details of her projects, who even stayed up late to help her brainstorm ideas when she got stuck. “it’s for my modern lit paper,” she said, turning the laptop slightly so he could see the opening lines. “i’m writing about identity in contemporary poetry.”

his brow furrowed, and he gave a thoughtful hum. “identity, huh?” his fingers started playing with a strand of her hair, twisting it absently as he thought. it still smelt like her lavender shampoo. “so, like–how people see themselves? or how they think they should be seen?”

she nodded, feeling a warm flutter in her chest at the way he genuinely tried to understand. “yeah, lovey, exactly. it’s about how people present different versions of themselves, depending on the world around them. how sometimes people feel like they have to hide who they really are, or adapt, to fit in.”

he was quiet for a moment, his eyes thoughtful as he took that in, a small crease forming between his brows. “guess i know a bit about that,” he murmured, almost to himself, then gave her a soft smile. “makes sense, though. we’re all trying t’figure it out, right?”

she looked at him, her heart swelling at the way he always found a way to connect with her world, to show up and care. he wasn’t just the guy who played guitar in pubs and poured water over the crowd—he was thoughtful and reflective, her safe place and her biggest support. she reached out, brushing a stray curl away from his forehead, her gaze softening.

he met her eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched her type a few lines, completely relaxed against her side. “y’really like this stuff, don’t you?”

she nodded, feeling her cheeks warm. “i do. and i like that you care enough to ask.”

he grinned, his hand resting over hers on the keyboard. “wouldn’t miss it, bunny. i want to know it all. even the boring bits,” he teased, pressing another kiss to her temple. “so… what’s next? how do y’wrap this thing up?”

as she dove into her explanation, she felt him settle in closer, his head resting on her shoulder, eyes flicking back and forth between her face and the screen. and even though he’d begun the night wrapped in little more than that towel and mischief, there was something about the way he lay beside her now—calm, engaged, just there for her.

after a while, she tried to concentrate on the closing argument of her essay, but harry’s hand found a lock of her hair again, twirling it lazily around his finger, his touch warm and gentle. every so often, he’d place a quick, messy kiss on her cheek, or the side of her head, each one more dramatic than the last, until she couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, nudging him back.

“alright, enough with the distractions,” she muttered, shooting him a mock-stern look as he grinned back, clearly pleased with himself.

but he was relentless. when she referenced another poet, he piped up, a mischievous look in his eyes. “ah, yes, that guy,” he said, tone teasing as he tapped his chin as though he were deep in thought. “big fan. wrote that one poem about… feeling feelings, right?”

she rolled her eyes, biting back a laugh. “harry, i’m serious.”

“hey, i am too!” he replied, the grin on his face only widening. “poetry’s got layers, YN. all about emotions and metaphors.” he lifted an eyebrow, giving her a wink that made her want to laugh and push him off the bed all at once.

she groaned, turning back to her screen, though the smile tugging at her lips gave her away. despite his teasing, she knew he respected her work and thought she was smart, even if he pretended to be clueless just to get a rise out of her.

a few minutes passed, and she found herself stuck, her fingers hovering over the keyboard as she struggled to find the right words to tie everything together. she could feel harry’s gaze on her, his eyes flicking between her face and the screen, and right then, her stomach gave a loud, unmistakable growl.

harry’s eyebrows shot up, and a playful, knowing smirk crossed his face. “oh, is that how it is, then?” he said, nudging her gently. “i’m over here pouring my heart and soul into supporting you, and you’re starving yourself for art.”

she laughed, rolling her eyes as she tried to wave him off. “it’s fine, i just need to—”

but he was already halfway across the room, grabbing his phone with a sense of purpose, tapping away with single-minded determination. “nope, not happening. i’m ordering us food. you’re no good to me fainting on the job,” he teased, tossing her a grin as he started scrolling through options on doordash.

she watched him, warmth blooming in her chest at the sight of his focused expression as he debated between a few late-night favorites. his finger paused on the screen, and he shot her a look over his shoulder. “what are we feeling? i know goodfella’s is open late.”

she hummed, folding her arms and pretending to think. “their pizza sounds good.”

“perfect. what kind?” he asked, giving her that soft, endearing look that always managed to make her heart skip.

“surprise me,” she said, her eyes crinkling with a smile as he turned back to his phone, murmuring thoughtfully to himself as he made his selections.

once he’d ordered, he slid back beside her, his arm slipping around her shoulders, pulling her close as he planted a quick kiss on her forehead. “alright, aristotle. you’ve got about twenty minutes to wrap this up before the pizza gets here.”

she grinned, feeling a rush of renewed energy as she settled back into her laptop, his warmth beside her and the promise of food on the way. and as she typed out her final thoughts, she felt his hand come up to her hair again, his fingers working through her locks in a gentle rhythm as he leaned his chin on her shoulder, watching her with a soft smile.

“think you’re about to blow the rest of the class outta the water.” he muttered, his voice low and genuine, cutting through the playful teasing of earlier.

she paused, glancing over at him, her cheeks warming under his gaze. “you think so?”

he nodded, brushing his nose gently against her cheek. “definitely. i knew you were brilliant the first time i met you. just, you know, don’t forget me when you’re off being some lit professor with a fancy office and your own bookshelf in every bookstore.”

she laughed, shaking her head. “you’ll be playing stadiums by then, styles. i think you’ll be just fine.”

once harry met the driver outside of the dorm and made his way back up the stairwell to the second floor of her building, they sat cross-legged on the bed, the pizza box open between them, warm and smelling faintly of melted cheese and marinara. YN took a bite, savoring the comfort of it as they eased into the rhythm of their usual conversations. she told him stories about her classes—about the professor who insisted everyone call him by his first name and the girl who always argued with the readings in ways that both amused and baffled her. he listened intently, his eyes focused on her like she was the most fascinating person in the world, laughing at all the right moments, nodding as if every small detail mattered. and for harry, it did.

soon enough, the conversation shifted, and he told her stories from his recent gigs—how the second-to-last venue had practically been held together with duct tape, how he’d overheard some guy loudly claim he could “totally play guitar better than that dude.” she laughed at the way he imitated the voice, rolling his eyes in good-natured frustration. “seriously,” he groaned, grinning through a bite of pizza, “the heckling never stops, even when you’re playing to like, fifteen people.”

she nudged him with her knee, a smirk tugging at her lips. “just you wait, one day those fifteen people are going to turn into fifteen thousand, and that guy will still be standing there with his pint, going on about how he should be the one on stage.”

harry’s face softened, his gaze lingering on her. “you’re just saying that because you’re in love with me.”

“maybe,” she said with a wink, brushing a crumb off his cheek.

they fell into their easy banter, and soon enough, poetry came back up. she was telling him about one of the poets she was analyzing, the language they used and the intricate metaphors she was supposed to decipher, when harry raised a brow, an amused look crossing his face. “you’re talking like i don’t write poetry myself, you know.”

“oh, really?” she teased, leaning back with her arms folded, a skeptical look on her face. “let’s hear it, shakespeare.”

with a grin, he pulled out his phone, scrolling through his notes until he stopped on something, looking a bit sheepish but handing it over to her with a small smile. “here. latest masterpiece.” he joked with a shrug, though he seemed a bit nervous. “study it in your lit classes ‘n all that.”

she took his phone, her heart skipping a beat as she saw the title: adore you. her chest warmed as she started reading through the words. it wasn’t like the love poems she read for lectures, full of flowery language and convoluted metaphors. no, this was simple, but sincere—lines that felt raw, real, and vulnerable in a way that only he could make them. each line felt like a glimpse into him, into the parts of himself that he shared only with her, the quiet moments, the late nights, the laughter and gentle touches that only they knew.

when she finished, she looked up at him, unable to hide the wide smile spreading across her face. “harry, this is—you’re so cute.” she said, her voice soft with genuine awe. “forget those old poets i read about. they’ve got nothing on you.” she squeezed his hand, her thumb brushing over his knuckles as she looked back down at the lyrics, rereading her favorite lines.

a blush crept up his cheeks, and he gave a little shrug, pretending to brush off her praise, but she could see the way his eyes shone, how much her words really meant to him. he nudged her playfully, leaning in with a grin. “you know it’s about you, yeah?”

she felt her heart flutter, her smile growing even wider as she met his gaze. “is it now?”

“obviously,” he chuckled, shaking his head as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “i mean, who else am i going to write about? you’re the one i can’t stop thinking about. the one who makes every line worth writing.”

she felt warmth bloom in her chest, reaching out to lace her fingers with his. “well,” she said softly, “then i think i’m the luckiest girl alive.”

he squeezed her hand, his expression softening as he leaned in, his forehead resting gently against hers. for a moment, they stayed like that, their hands intertwined, the world outside her tiny dorm room slipping away. it was just him, his steady heartbeat under her palm, his soft gaze that held a world of promises, and the quiet knowledge that he’d put it all into words just for her.

“so, poetry and pizza,” he murmured, his lips curving into a contented smile as he leaned back, pulling her into his chest. “didn’t think my night could get any better.”

“oh, really?” she teased, settling against him, her head resting just under his chin. “not even if i let you watch me struggle through the rest of my essay?”

“thrilling stuff,” he joked, his hand trailing gentle patterns along her arm. “actually, it’s all kind of perfect, YN. you, me, pizza, some poetry… maybe the start of a terrible song i’ll write when i can’t sleep tonight.”

“a song about pizza and poetry?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“why not?” he grinned, his eyes sparkling. “everyone needs a little inspiration, hm?”

she laughed, and the sound seemed to brighten the whole room, making everything feel light and carefree. “i’d listen to it.”

“i’ll dedicate it to you,” he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his voice softening. “after all, you’re my favorite muse.”

they sat like that for a while, the remnants of their pizza scattered around them, the warmth of his arms wrapped around her. she felt her eyes growing heavy, lulled by the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soothing hum of his voice as he mumbled quiet words of nonsense, half-asleep, just for her.

“hey,” she whispered after a while, her voice soft, almost a breath. “thank you for being here. for everything.”

“always,” he murmured, his voice a low, sleepy rumble. “wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

[moonstruckme]

hii idk if ur taking requests but can u write sth with rockstar!remus who’s like full of adrenaline after a shkw and just kisses r ☹️☹️ the others wont let them be LOLLL😭😭😭 hope ur having an amazing day 💘

You have an amazing day too !

rockstar!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 643 words

James all but sprints off the stage, as he always does, working off his post-show adrenaline the best way he knows how. His routine seems unaltered by the fact that this is the biggest show the boys have played yet, but you don’t suppose he can really kick it into a higher gear than it already is. It’s also entertaining for the rest of you, watching him hurdle over sound equipment and careen past frightened-looking crew members before calling a “sorry!” behind him. 

You know to expect Remus behind him, leaving the stage at a slower pace while Sirius stays and soaks up the energy for as long as he can before someone physically drags him off, but you’re not expecting the unusual energy about your boyfriend when he comes in. 

Remus is crackling, the exact sound of when he plugs his bass into the amp but around him like an aura. Your heart kicks in your chest. 

You beam at him, holding up the small bouquet you’d impulse-bought at a stand a few blocks from the venue. You feel a bit silly, but Remus doesn’t seem to mind. 

He lets out a breathy little laugh at the sight of you and shakes his head as he takes two long strides, grasping your hips and pressing you into the wall. 

The flowers are instantly forgotten. Remus’ mouth is warm and insistent on yours, his knee pushing in between your legs and his nose pressed into your cheek. You don’t realize you’ve stopped breathing until he breaks the kiss. 

He sets both hands on your cheeks. There are crew members buzzing around you, and the crowd is still thrumming outside, and somewhere James is talking loudly, but Remus’ face is the only thing in the world. Scarred and sweaty and smiling at you. 

“Great show,” you scrape out. 

Another short laugh. If you didn’t know better, you’d say your boyfriend was giddy. “Yeah?” He gives you another kiss, shorter but still shock-happy. His lips stay curved against yours. “I thought so,” he admits, a bit softer, like a secret. 

You lower your voice to match. “You were incredible.” 

Remus grins even bigger, brilliant and totally unlike himself. He’s practically glowing. 

“Remus,” Sirius shouts, prancing toward the both of you with his usual regard for private intimacy, “if you’d pause in fondling your girlfriend, James says we’ve got a group out back who wants autographs.” 

Remus drops his forehead to yours, his disbelieving puff of air tickling over your nose. You pet down the hairs at his nape. 

“Oh, are these for us?” Sirius sounds delighted. Remus doesn’t take the bait, but you do, turning to find him looking at the flowers hanging limply from your grasp. “Doll, you shouldn’t have!”

“How could I resist,” you play along, letting go of Remus to ease one of the stems out from the rest. Sirius takes it from you happily. “They go so well with your outfits.” 

“More Remus’ than ours,” James notes, coming over. He’s even sweatier than the other two, but his excess energy seems mostly spent, “but I’m sure that’s only coincidence.” 

“Certainly,” Sirius agrees. “She’d never pick favorites. Say, babe, want me to sign something of yours?”

“She’s good,” Remus answers for you, tugging you closer and touching his lips to your brow. “I’ve got this one.” 

“I’ll bet you do.” James is grinning. He prods Remus’ shoulder, encouraging you both to follow him towards where the fans are waiting. “She may not pick favorites, but you will, is that right?” 

“Enough,” Remus says, but he’s still too happy to work up any real rancor. 

“Oh, I already know you’re gonna get an extra special autograph, doll,” Sirius teases. Your face starts to heat. “Likely when we see you tomorrow, he’ll have left you some even darker than a marker could do—” 

“Enough.” 

[haetrack]

self control (m)

jung jaehyun x f!reader x mark lee

wc: 7.8k

warnings: smut (MDNI), fwb!jaehyun, mark has a crush on reader, fingering, light exhibition, light voyeurism, implied masturbation (male), threesome, oral (both receiving), doggy style, unprotected sex, reader is on the pill, jaehyun pushes mark around, possessiveness, barely there spanking, multiple orgasms, dom!jaehyun, switch!reader, switch!mark

a/n: this has been stuck in my head for so long and thinking abt jaehyun scares me bc i want him so bad. anyways i hope u find this a little hot… i did…

to say that you had an… interesting relationship with mark lee would be an understatement.

the shy glances, flushed cheeks, his stutters that come out while you both talk. it would be obvious to anyone that he has somewhat of a crush on you. you can see it too, but it’s not something you really want to acknowledge yet. you wouldn’t say there’s an obstacle in the way because that would be a little mean, but there is definitely a problem.

your friend (with benefits) happens to be one of mark’s own friends, jung jaehyun. to say the least, he’s certainly just a man. blissfully unaware of the tension between you and mark, oblivious to how he seems to ward away mark from coming near you. you can’t say it’s just jaehyun’s fault though, you don’t tell him to mind his business when mark tries to talk to you, you don’t shoo him away when he wraps an arm around your waist in front of mark.

it’s one night where you both are at a party, whispering in each other's ears. you’ve been teasing each other all night, no one making any moves to see who breaks first. it’s not until jaehyun tells you how mark is looking at the both of you, wishing that he could be the one next to you right now. you drag jaehyun to a bedroom upstairs, not missing how mark’s eyes follow the two of you. 

so maybe jaehyun isn’t as oblivious as you thought.

“have you noticed how mark’s been staring at you more?” jaehyun questions, fiddling with the vinyl player in his room. 

you pointedly glare at the back of his head, “mmm, not really? what do you mean?” 

“the times i’ve invited you to come and hangout, he always just seems to be looking at you,” he finishes cleaning up his vinyl player, moving to choose an album from his vast collection.

you hum, seemingly uninterested, “at the party you did tell me that he was staring at us.”

his eyebrows furrow, “not at us. at you. he was staring at you.”

as much as you want to look disinterested, you can’t help the large grin that forms, “are you jealous, jaehyun?”

he huffs, messing with the needle of the player before the familiar tune of a frank ocean album begins, “not jealous. not when only i get to have you in my room like this.”

he moves to where you’re laying on his bed, a teasing smile adorned on your face. you move from your spot to kiss him, but he pins you back down, giving you a kiss of his own. his body moves to hover over yours, deepening the kiss, pulling away when you need a breath, “i’ll make sure mark never gets to have you fully like this. i’ll put him in his place if i need to.” 

after jaehyun successfully makes you cum on his fingers, he lets you know of his plan. you give him a questioning look, but all he responds with is a proud smile on his face. “like i said,” he runs his fingers along your sides, “i want him to see what i do for you.”

as if he could be any more vague, he refuses to answer your question, deciding to cradle you in his arms instead. it’s not that you mind, but his words could mean literally anything. you think it’s quite obvious what kind of relationship you and jaehyun have, so what more needs to be shown? you have your question answered when your over at johnny’s apartment with a few other friends. on your way there, jaehyun tells you that mark is going to be there, and you just playfully roll your eyes at him.

“you seem too excited about this,” you hum.

“i have about fifty things i could do with you tonight, of course i’m excited,” he says, subtle excitement in his voice.

his words leave your mind when you approach mark while everyone argues about what movie to watch. mark didn’t join the arguing, choosing to sit back and watch everyone while laughing at their words. he promptly shuts his mouth when he sees you coming his way. you greet him, and he smiles at you, nervously laughing.

“can’t believe how you guys can get along so well when you argue like this over a movie,” you laugh.

mark clears his throat before speaking, “yeah, um, they’re always like this. i just got so used to it because i realized how funny it gets.”

at his words, you turn and see jaehyun criticizing every movie that is recommended, but when they ask him what to watch, he just stands there, mouth hanging open. you turn to look at mark, which causes both of you to burst out laughing. at the sound of your laugh, jaehyun whips his head around and sees the two of you hunched together. he doesn’t look angry, but there’s definitely an off-putting smile on his face.

in the corner of your eye, you can see mark straighten up at the sight of jaehyun. before jaehyun can turn around, you lean slightly into mark’s side, seeing how far you can push jaehyun. he just turns the other way.

they decide on a random avengers movie that you don’t really know. you don’t care, as you sit with jaehyun and mess with his fingers. you see that mark has moved closer to the tv, probably more interested in the movie than anyone else. he’s on a different couch than you and jaehyun.

the only reason you’re not asleep like almost everyone else is is due to the fact that around halfway through, jaehyun drapes a blanket over the both of you. it’s subtle, looking like you were just cold. you know what jaehyun really wants when he puts a hand on your thigh and squeezes. you try to send a pointed glare at him, but he’s making sure everyone is asleep or on their phones. you notice mark is the only one really paying attention.

he trails his hand higher on your thigh before whispering in your ear, “pay attention to the movie. try not to make too much noise, pretty girl.”

once his words register in your head, you realize that he wants you to make just a little noise. connecting the dots, you realize he wants mark to hear you in order to get him to look at you. he wants mark to see how good he’s making you feel.

heat rushes all over your body at the realization, and it only intensifies when jaehyun’s hand slides under the waistband of your pants. you give him one last pleading look before you try to focus on the screen in front of you. his hand cups your warmth, feeling the small patch of wetness already formed. out of the corner of your eye, you see him smile.

you become hyperaware of yourself when he starts rubbing your clothed clit, one of your hands moving under the blanket to grip onto his arm. you let out a shaky breath when he pulls your panties aside for better access. you didn’t realize how wet you were, not until he puts a finger inside with ease.

a small, broken whimper escapes you as he plunges his finger in and out of you, his palm rubbing your clit with the movement. you spread your legs more open, silently telling him you needed more. he complies, satisfied with your cooperation. he whispers to you one more time, “my baby is doing so good for me. so dirty, getting herself off in front of all these people. in front of mark.” 

a whine escapes you before you can stop it, and you shove your face into jaehyun’s shoulder out of embarrassment. with you no longer looking around, he decides to move his fingers faster, making sure to curl them to hit that spot inside of you. you’re clenching tightly around his fingers, his hand slick with how wet you are. you keep making small noises, small slips of his name falling from your mouth.

moving his eyes towards the screen so that mark is in his peripheral, he continues. jaehyun wouldn’t normally do this, putting you on display for just anybody. he’s doing it because he knows mark wants you, thinking he could just take you away from him. his competitiveness comes roaring its head, having to show mark who you need more.

when a slightly loud whimper escapes you, jaehyun can see marks vision pulling away from the tv, looking back at you first. jaehyun moves to grab his phone, seemingly unconcerned. he can still see mark, him looking worried for you. it’s not until mark sees movement under the blanket, your face shoved into jaehyun’s side, and a small smile on jaehyun’s face that he’s able to piece it together.

jaehyun can tell you’re about to cum, your hips moving against his fingers. all while mark doesn’t turn to look away from the sight of you. you’re letting out small, jumbled words along the lines of please, need to cum, jaehyun please, hurry. jaehyun could never deny you, so he places a kiss on the top of your head and sighs out, “go ahead and cum for me, pretty.”

you let out a muffled moan, jaehyun lightly shushes you as you let go, cumming over his fingers. he helps you ride out your orgasm while mark rushes off down the hall to the bathroom. jaehyun chuckles down at the sight of you, all mussed up. once you come down from your high, you send him a pointed stare, “you’re such a jerk.”

he pulls his hand out from under the blanket up to his mouth, cleaning his fingers off from your cum. “i think mark saw us, he ran off to the restroom,” you gape at him, “think if you walked past the restroom you could probably hear him getting off to the thought of you right now.”

as much as you try to not let your curiosity get the best of you, you can’t help it. you reach over to johnny and ask if you could borrow a charger for your phone. he says there’s one in his room, that you could use it there. you thank him as you make your way down the same hallway, tiptoeing by the restroom. you carefully press your ear to the door. you can hear a low groan of your name followed by a whispered feels so good- fuck, please. 

your face feels warm as you go and grab the charger, moving away from the pretty sounds that mark’s making.

the first time you see mark after the incident at johnny’s apartment, he couldn’t even look you in the eyes.

well, he could, but it was followed by a light blush coating his cheeks. it’s a rare scene to see you at a party without jaehyun attached to your side, but mark doesn’t really mind. he doesn’t feel too nervous, but the image of you cumming has been replaying in his head. he can’t mess this up, can’t let go of this opportunity with just you alone.

“so, where are your friends?” you ask mark, sipping on the drink you’re holding.

“i’m just waiting for them, they should be coming soon.”

you hum, “wished you could’ve kept me more company, mark. i like being with you.”

“y-yeah? i like being with you- like, i mean, just us two.”

“better without jaehyun, huh?” you provoke him. he laughs and looks away, too embarrassed to admit the truth. it’s not like he’s scared of jaehyun, it’s more of… a respect thing? he’s not really sure if you two are dating or just have something going on, but he doesn’t want to intrude. but he can’t really help it, not when you’re you.

he’s known you for a while now, and even then, it was jaehyun who introduced you both. the way you look at him, the way you always seem to know what you want, your presence alone makes him think of you. but every time he tries to get close to you, there’s jaehyun, attaching himself to your side. even now, mark’s eyes occasionally drift to the door to see if jaehyun’s walked in.

you lean into his side, whispering into his ear, “i think i like us alone like this, too.”

you see a pretty shade of pink wash over his face, leaning more into his side. he looks down, and you look like how you were during the movie night. this time though, you’re by his side, not jaehyun’s. he tentatively wraps an arm around your side, trying to will his hands not to shake. there you both are, at the corner of the room, just like how he always sees you.

he hears you softly call his name, and while looking at you, he sees an almost hazy look on your face. he realizes how warm you feel, looks at how you glance down to his lips, back up to his eyes. you look so tempting, there’s so many things he wants to do with you. before he can turn you against the wall to kiss you, he sees the door open out of the corner of his eye. there’s jaehyun, staring at the both of you.

against his own will, he pulls away from you. you smile back up at him before turning to jaehyun, who motions for you to join him upstairs. “maybe next time you’ll be able to join us, mark.”

before he can say anything else, you say, “promise.”

he nods and you walk away from him, weaving through other people. you wave at him before you disappear, and he’s once again alone, waiting for his friends. he lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, wishing once again that he was the one leading you upstairs. he can feel his self control slip away.

he downs all of the drink in his cup, the concoction too strong and burns going down his throat. he waits a bit before stalking up the stairs, finding the room you two were in. his hand reaches for the doorknob, but ultimately decides to stop when he hears the tailend of your conversation.

“...imagine if mark was outside the door, so desperate to hear your sounds,” mark hears a small whimper come out of you, “he’d be so hard, wishing he was the one who had you like this.”

the conversation ends, both of you too busy with one another to continue thinking about mark. mark can feel himself getting hard in his suddenly too tight pants. he brings a hand down to the front of his pants and squeezes, begging his mind and heart to stop racing. he can’t let this keep happening to him.

the next time you see mark, it’s a surprise for you and jaehyun. you’re both lounging around in your apartment, too lazy to actually do anything. as you’re scrolling through videos on your phone, you get a text.

mark: yoooo

mark: i was just wondering if you were busy or anything

you smile. and jaehyun, being too nosy for his own good, asks who just texted you. you quickly show him the messages you got from mark and jaehyun looks just as giddy as you. you type out that jaehyun is with you at your apartment.

mark: oh haha

mark: i wanted to see if you were alone

you: jaehyun says its fine with him if you want to come over

he doesn’t text back after that, so you assume that he’s given up on meeting with you. you assume he wanted to see if you really meant what you said at the party. you didn’t tell jaehyun what happened, but he did see you two together. it only makes it more exciting that there’s a small secret between the two of you. a few more minutes pass, and you don’t expect anything anymore.

it’s not until you hear a knock at the door that you sit up. jaehyun looks at you, and you tell him to go somewhere else. he sulks at you, but he obliges, opting to move to the bathroom. you calm yourself down before opening the door, seeing an almost apologetic-looking mark. it’s almost apologetic, save for the small twinge of emotion in his eyes that you can’t quite place.

“sorry for coming unannounced, i just wanted, um, to talk to you, i guess.”

“yeah, of course, come right in.” you let him inside, beckoning for him to sit on the couch with you. he looks a little hesitant before sitting down, opting to sit as furthest as he can from you. 

“so… where’s jaehyun?

“in the restroom, he’ll probably be back in a bit,” you say, and he nods to your words. it feels awkward, and you’re not someone who gets awkward easily. mark turns to look at you, opens his mouth, and closes it. you laugh a little, “take a deep breath, mark. it’s just you and me in here.”

and jaehyun, mark thinks stubbornly to himself. he does take a breath, and faces you once more. it’s just you two, and the sight of you encourages him to continue. “i wanted to talk about what you said at the party,” he says, with no nervousness present in his voice, “just some clarification.”

“i meant everything i said, mark. i like being with you, even if it’s not always us alone.”

before he can respond to you, the bathroom door opens, and jaehyun walks over as if mark wasn’t sitting entirely too close to you (read: on the other side of the couch). mark looks back down to his lap, now too nervous with jaehyun’s presence. “how have you been, mark? haven’t seen you since the party the other night.”

jaehyun sits close to you, one hand making its way to your thigh, squeezing lightly. mark looks at the hand before looking to jaehyun, “i’ve been fine. just, kinda, wanted to talk to… to the both of you?”

“oh yeah? about what?” jaehyun says, a certain smugness in his voice that only you can detect. his hand moves across your skin, thumb rubbing the inner part of your thigh. you shudder, and mark doesn’t miss it.

“yeah, just about, like, the two of you?”

“well, can i be honest?” jaehyun starts, and you know he’s about to say something crazy, “to me, it looks like you like my pretty baby here.”

mark gapes at his words, mouth opening to stutter out denials and apologies. before he can do that though, jaehyun drags you fully onto his lap, pushing apart your legs with his own. mark’s breath gets caught in his throat at the sight of you, so pliant against jaehyun’s rough actions. “i saw you the other night, saw how you looked at her while she was cumming on my fingers.”

mark doesn’t say anything as he watches jaehyun drag his hands close to your core, stopping close to the place where you need him most. you squirm in his hold, a whimper threatening to slip out of your lips. you open your eyes to look at mark, finding he was already staring at you. the pink on his cheeks tells you all you need to know. he likes this.

“if you don’t want to see me get her off, you can leave. what do you think, baby?”

you whine, “i want mark to stay, want him to see me like this. want him, jaehyun.”

mark’s breath hitches, too affected by your words already. jaehyun chuckles lowly, and you feel the low vibrations against your back, “can’t believe you’re begging for another man when i’m right here,” he presses a kiss to the side of your face, “guess you’re gonna have to stay here, mark.”

you whisper out a please to him, and mark can’t say no, not when you’re looking at him with such need in your eyes. he’ll do anything in order to touch you, to feel you. “y-yeah, no, i-i’ll stay.”

“you can’t touch until either of us say you can,” jaehyun says while moving to rest on the arm of the couch, pulling you along with him, “gonna have to learn how to make my baby feel good, right?”

mark nods along, mind moving too fast to properly respond.

jaehyun pulls down your shorts, leaving you in just your panties and the loose shirt you have on. mark takes it all in, takes in how you’re already soaked through your panties, waiting so patiently to be touched, “my baby always gets so wet, she can’t hide how bad she wants you.”

before you can start whining louder, he circles his thumb over your clit, a moan cutting you off. jaehyun scoffs, “guess she needs two people to make her satisfied.”

mark’s breath gets heavy as he sees you writhing around in pleasure only from light touches. how badly he wants to reach and take over, giving you everything that you need. jaehyun doesn’t follow that line of thought, taking his time and dragging it out. “please, jaehyun. need you to touch me already, need you so bad-”

“what do you think, mark? do you think my baby should get what she wants?”

and for the first time, mark speaks up, “t-touch her already, she’s asking so nicely.” you thank him loudly when jaehyun moves to take off your panties. you look at him differently than how you usually do, your teasing eyes that are usually filled with confidence as you talk to mark. but here, your eyes are filled with compliance and neediness.

mark can now see your glistening folds, how you clench around nothing when you spot him staring. if it were up to him, he’d already have his hands and mouth on you. but with jaehyun here, he has to sit and watch, gripping onto his thighs, hoping he’ll get a chance to touch you.

jaehyun leans down to whisper something in your ear, causing you to nod fervently at his words. “my baby wants you to eat her out. think you can do that, mark?”

mark nods slowly. jaehyun moves to have you both seated properly on the couch, mark moving to sit on his knees on the floor. you’ve thought of the sight of him on his knees for you too many times since you heard him in the bathroom that night. to finally get to see him like this, just for you, has you letting out a small whimper.

mark takes the sight of you in, having you like this in real life better than anything he could’ve imagined. he scoots towards you, so close you can feel the heat of his face on you. he reaches forward, his tongue licking up your wet slit. “jesus, so fucking sweet, so wet.”

before you can register his words, his thumbs move to open up your cunt before he dives in, mouth everywhere he can reach. he slurps up the slick at your entrance, tongue prodding at the tight hole. he wonders if he’ll be able to fuck you, wonders if you’ll clench tightly around his cock like you’re doing with his tongue.

he moves up to suck on your clit, two fingers moving to your entrance. through your bleary eyes, you can see mark silently asking if he can finger you. he looks desperate through his hooded eyes, and if you focus a little harder, you can see how he’s straining against his shorts. you nod desperately, and mark responds by sliding his fingers slowly in, the feeling of your tight walls too much for his mind.

mark can’t really tell what he’s doing. it’s like he’s having an out of body experience, the sweet taste of your cunt being the closest thing to heaven. he can hear how messy he sounds eating you out, the squelch of his fingers moving inside you, the wet sound of his tongue sliding against you. it’s all too much, your mouth babbling out incoherent sentences to mark as he indulges in you.

you can feel yourself getting closer, every part of your body feels sensitive to the touch. you can feel the hard grip mark has on your thighs, hearing the small groans and whimpers he lets out from your sweet pussy. you can feel how jaehyun is hard behind your back, he softly presses into you, body betraying him. the warmth of their two bodies against you only spurring you on more.

“i’m gonna cum, needa cum so bad. please, jaehyun! can mark make me cum?”

you can hear mark groan out a jesus before jaehyun responds, “i don’t know if you deserve it, pretty girl. do you?”

“please! been so good, i’ll be so good. just need to cum-” your begging breaks off into a loud moan as mark digs his face as close as possible into your pulsing pussy, affected by the sweet sound of your voice. jaehyun tries not to smile at the sight of the two of you, so desperate to get each other off. “i guess you can cum. mark is just gonna have to put in more work.”

if mark’s mouth wasn’t so preoccupied, he’d definitely groan in annoyance at jaehyun’s words. he tries not to care though, because it’s his mouth that’s getting you off, not jaehyun’s. he wonders if jaehyun even does this for you, and if he does, mark knows he’s better than him. his thoughts are cut off by the harsh grip of your hands in his hair, pulling him close as you try to cum.

“i’m cumming! please- please d-don’t stop!”

as if he would ever deny you. he sucks at your clit, fingers prodding at the sweet spot inside of you as your thighs close around his head. mark feels how your body needs him, and it only pushes him further. he hears how you moan out his name as your hips grind against his face. he has to tell himself not to cum untouched like this, not to embarrass himself in front of you.

he helps you ride out your orgasm, lapping at your slit as he removes his fingers from you. you almost want him to keep going, not minding the slightly painful stimulation turning into pleasure. it’s not until jaehyun reaches over and threads his hands in mark’s hair, forcibly pulling him away from you. as much as you want to scold jaehyun for interrupting you, it’s more hot than anything seeing him so jealous.

mark sends jaehyun a challenging look, a small smirk playing on his face as jaehyun sweetly smiles back. how jaehyun can pretend to be so innocent baffles him, but mark lets it happen, more curious as to what will happen next.

“i don’t know about you, mark, but i’m gonna take her to the bedroom so i can fuck her,” you hit his chest at his vulgar words and he just laughs, “don’t know if my pretty girl would want you to join us.”

you look over to see how mark has reacted to his words, only to find mark staring back at you already. his eyes are pleading, hands gripping his thighs as you can see the noticeable bulge in his shorts. “mark helped me cum, wanna help him cum too, jaehyun.”

mark lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding while jaehyun contemplates on what to do. when he comes to a conclusion, he nods to himself while getting up, offering a hand to help you up. you both begin to move to your bedroom while mark just sits there, waiting for what to do. “are you coming, mark, or are you gonna keep her waiting?”

he rushes to catch up the both of you, seeing how you’re already laying in bed with jaehyun once again behind you. mark tries not to let it get to him, but jaehyun always manages to be right fucking next to you all the time. mark stands awkwardly at the door, not really knowing what to do. he feels your eyes staring at his bulge, his hands moving to cover himself as if he didn’t just eat you out.

“so here’s what going to happen,” jaehyun starts, looking at your body laid against him, “she wants you to fuck her, but i’ll leave it up to her if she wants you raw or not.”

mark has to stop the gasp trying to come out of his mouth. he never thought that he’d even get to fuck you, but now there’s a possiblity that he’ll get to fuck you raw? all he can do is nod at jaehyun’s words and look at you dazedly, tongue wetting his lips.

“come here, baby. come over to me.”

as far as mark knows, you don’t call jaehyun baby. the petname has his mind reeling, body unknowingly moving towards you. he sits at the edge of your bed, admiring the look of your body only covered in a t-shirt. he trails a hand up your thigh and sees out the corner of his eye that jaehyun’s watching him carefully. “will you take off your clothes for me? let me see all of you?”

mark mutters a small fuck as he turns away from you to undress. jaehyun has never seen you like this, more in control over mark. he lets it happen, doesn’t scold you for trying to take over. he can see how focused you are on watching mark, sees how your eyes glaze over at the lines in his back and when he slowly turns around.

mark’s cock slaps against his abdomen when he pulls his boxers down. his tip is red and leaking, and if it weren’t for the promise of fucking him, you would’ve already had your mouth on him. he makes his way over to you, kneeling down in front of your body. you sit up, hand reaching over to lightly stroke his cock. his hips jut forward as a small whine leaves his mouth, his hand wrapping around your wrist.

“please, don’t tease me. i’ve been hard for so long i- i just need you already.”

his words knock the breath out of your lungs as you sit up to deeply kiss him. he moans into it, cups your face into his hands as he pulls you closer. jaehyun watches silently behind you both, watching how mark grinds his cock into your lower belly. jaehyun’s own hand moves to palm himself over his boxers, liking how you’re enjoying yourself.

it isn’t until he starts getting annoyed with how mark looks like he’s enjoying himself too much to where he drags you back down by the hip. you lay over his lap once more, looking up at him through your eyelashes. he gives you an innocent-looking smile as you roll your eyes in return. you shift up a little, looking back at mark.

he’s looking at you again, your swollen lips, your glistening folds. he then focuses on your covered chest, eyes glazed over, wondering how your boobs look. you smirk a little, before shifting to pull off your shirt. he groans when he sees how you weren’t wearing a bra the whole time. his hands automatically move to touch you, but jaehyun immediately stops him with, “can’t touch her, not until we say.”

“but i-”

“be patient, baby. i’ll let you touch as long as you’re good for me.”

you can see how hard mark gulps at your words, his cock twitching in response. he shifts closer to you, hips flush with yours. he’s staring hard, eyes moving to take in the sight of you. you’re getting impatient, the feeling of his cock so close to you proving to be too much.

before anything though, you beckon him down to you, whispering in his ear, “i’m on the pill, baby. i’ll let you cum in me.” 

you can hear how his breathing picks up at the small exchange of words. his hands grab onto your thighs, moving one up to hook around his waist. he teases his head along your slit, holding back a whimper that threatens to come out of him. you squirm under him, pulsing around nothing as you wait for him to enter you.

“better hurry up, mark. if you don’t fuck her right now, i’ll just do it for you.” mark ignores his words, giving you one last look before he slowly pushes into you. you both moan in unison, your warm walls wrapping around his thick cock. you move your other thigh to his waist in order to push him into you more, causing his hips to stutter against you.

he’s trying hard to keep himself up over you. his face is scrunched up, biting down hard onto his lip to try not to cum too fast. you’re no different, neediness taking over as you clench around him, encouraging him to move. he moves slowly, trying to get accustomed to how tight you are. he can hear the whines and whimpers you let out, but he can’t do anything, mind too preoccupied with you. 

“please, mark, need you to move already. need you to fuck me so bad.” he nods, but just swirls his hips against you, only making you needier. you can feel the low rumble of jaehyun’s laugh through your body, and it adds on to your pleasure.

“baby,” his moan cuts you off, “please?”

he opens his eyes to look at you, and despite the bleariness, he can see your pretty face, the tears in your eyes as you fight back against how good he feels. he moves himself back up, ignoring how shaky his arms are, and starts to pull slowly out of you. you whine at the emptiness, before he slams right back into you.

he tries to focus on your reactions, tries to see what exactly makes you feel the best, but your tight walls make it hard for him. when he does eventually find a pace that works for you, he continues to push himself into you, your previous orgasm helping him slide into you with ease. when he angles his hips a certain way, he can tell he’s hit your sweet spot, your hands moving to his back to claw at him.

he seethes at the pain, but refocuses his attention to you when you moan out his name. he moans when you mke eye contact, dick twitching inside of you as you let out an airy laugh, “you f-feel so good, baby. bet you wanted this for so long.”

he quickly nods, “thought about your pretty pussy so much, thought about you around me. like you so much, couldn’t help but think about you.”

against mark’s better judgment, he looks down to see how well you’re taking him in, how your pussy just sucks him in further. he moans out, and you laugh again, threading one of your hands in his hair to get him to look at you. “should’ve told me how much you needed me, could’ve helped you out a lot sooner.”

he lets out a small whimper, to your satisfaction. mark can’t look at you anymore, he feels himself getting too close already. his eyes look at your chest, how your boobs bounce every time he thrusts into you. before he can move a hand to you, he sees jaehyun’s larger hands move to your chest, groping at the flesh. you moan out loud, the added stimulation making you clench harshly around mark’s twitching cock.

if mark didn’t feel so weak right now, he’d move jaehyun’s hands out the way to replace them with his own. but with the way he feels himself getting closer to the edge, all he can do is let out small whines. “can’t believe i get to be here, can’t believe i’m the one fucking my girl right now.”

mark can’t see the way jaehyun’s eyes bore into him, but mark can feel you clench around him when jaehyun tweaks your nipples. mark’s getting fed up with jaehyun, the ache in his cock not helping his actions when he sees your eyes focused on jaehyun. mark can tell jaehyun feels the same way too, or else he wouldn’t have been touching you like he is now. in an almost out of character way, mark pushes himself up to kiss you, distracting you from jaehyun.

it’s messy, drool slipping down both of your chins, moaning in each other's mouth. mark mumbles into you, “wanna cum for my girl, wanna show you what i can give to you.”

you quickly nod along to his words, “please, baby. please cum in me, wanna feel you fill me up.”

he curses under his breath, your words filling up his head. he moves one hand down to your aching clit, wanting you to cum with him. you moan a mix of his name and pleas, your orgasm threatening to rip through you. mark can feel how hard you’re clenching around him, he can feel how he’s shaking, how jaehyun’s eyes focus on you. he’s rubbing against your clit messily, too overcome by pleasure, but that’s all it takes for you to cum around his cock.

it feels so tight, nothing has ever compared to this before. all the days and nights he’s spent fantasizing about this moment could never compare to how he’s feeling now. he cums quickly after you, hips rutting against your cunt as he spills his cum deep into you, cock throbbing. he tries to help you ride out your orgasm until he feels too sensitive, slowly slipping out of you.

he tries to ignore how his cum is slipping out of you, mixed with your cum. he can’t look away, and if he had the chance, he would eat you out again, his tongue slipping against you as he cleans up the mess you both made. before he can reach down though, jaehyun pulls you up next to his side and pushes mark out the way by his shoulder.

it’s embarrassing to be pushed around by jaehyun, but mark sees how your eyes follow him, filled with a lustful gaze. he blushes and looks away, trying not to think about the current dynamic you both have him in. mark now looks at jaehyun, who looks down at the sight of the both of you. no matter how much mark felt like he was in charge, jaehyun will always be behind it all.

jaehyun coos at you, “did my baby enjoy herself? did you like having another man inside you?”

you try not to nod, but you can’t help yourself, smiling to jaehyun with a challenge on your face. you can see the small smile mark has on his face as he moves to your side. jaehyun just stares at the both of you before he suddenly grabs you and pulls you closer to him, flipping you over. he has you bent over, ass in the air as you’re faced with mark, face dangerously close to his cock. 

it’s embarrassing to be in this position, but you can help how you clench at the sight of how mark is looking down at you with pink cheeks. “i think i need to show my baby what she’s missing out on,” jaehyun starts, grabbing at your ass, “show her what she needs.”

jaehyun’s pants have been pulled down, his cock free from restraints as he teases your sensitive slit. you whimper out as he does, your head resting on mark’s thigh. he bring a hand to your cheek, thumb rubbing across the skin. jaehyun taps his dick at your entrance, teasing his head in before pulling it out. you’re sure he can see how messy it is, a mix of cum slipping out of you.

“didn’t realize you can be such a slut, didn’t know you needed two cocks to satisfy you.” you whine out in response, shaking your head at his claim. he just laughs as he enters you, “i know you better than you know yourself.”

you moan out at the stretch, the angle making him hit spots you’ve never felt before. you arch your back, and jaehyun takes in the sight of you as he lets out a low groan. mark feels it too, despite the fact that he came only a bit ago, he can feel his cock grow hard again. you lazily grin at him, and he can’t look you in the eye for more than three seconds.

jaehyun thrusts into you quickly, a harsh grip on your waist as he soothes a hand over your ass before slapping it. you let out a weak whine, and jaehyun roughly thrusts into you.

“you know, mark, we see- no, i see how much you look at her.” jaehyuns hips buck into yours, “and every time, i can see just how much she looks at you back.”

mark’s whole body feels hot, and he realizes that he’s fully hard again. you look up through your eyelashes to see mark’s cock standing tall, and you discreetly move forward to lick up his length. mark lets out a sharp whine, still sensitive from before, but pushes his hips towards you. jaehyun eyes both of you, not stopping your actions. “didn’t realize how needy she can be, she’d probably let you fuck her again if it weren’t for me,” he mumurs out.

you lick up mark’s cock, pressing a kiss to the tip before hovering over it, letting your mouth swallow around his head. he tries not to buck up into your mouth, but he can’t help the heat that envelopes his cock, hips pushing into your warm mouth. you try to fit as much of him you can in your mouth, proving to be hard with the man trying to fuck you into the sheets. 

“sweet girl, go ahead and tell mark how bad you wanted him,” when he gets no response, he pulls out of you, causing you to whine out, moving away from mark. “look mark in the eyes and say it.”

“n-needed you, baby. even if i fucked jaehyun, still wanted you.” jaehyun hums behind you before slamming into you again. all mark can hear are your words repeating in his head and loud squelch of your wet pussy. he tentively pulls you towards his cock again, letting you swallow around his dick. he whines when you moan around him, the vibrations causing his whole body to shudder.

“even though she wanted you, she still came to me, begged me to fuck her pretty pussy every time.” you bob your head around mark’s cock, looking up at him to see hooded eyes peering down at you, struggling to keep them open. it’s like you came out of his dream, such a pretty girl who was made just for him.

you can feel jaehyun slip an arm towards your clit, fingers applying pressure to your clit in the exact way you like it. you have to pull off of mark completely in order to moan out, your hand replacing your mouth as you jerk him off. you clench around jaehyun, hips pushing back against him to get him deeper inside. he reaches down to press a soft kiss to your shoulder, encouraging you.

“will my pretty girl cum for me? gonna show mark how good i make you feel?” jaehyun says as he pushes your head down into the bed, his own movements losing control.

as much as mark wants to scoff at his words, he’s too close to cumming again, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels himself throb. your grip around him tightens around his tip as you lose yourself, and mark ruts up into your hand to help you out. with one last look, he sees your dazed look, sees how you mouth cum for me, baby.

he does, hot cum shooting over your hand and some onto your face. your hand moves slowly up and down, helping him ride out his orgasm as he lets out a groan of your name. jaehyun takes this as a sign to focus on you, angling his hips in a way he knows will get you to cum. you’re babbling now, a mix of both names tumbling out your mouth as you beg jaehyun to let you cum.

you can feel him throb inside of you, his lack of composure showing when there’s no rhythm to his thrusts. “i’m so close, jaehyun. so close! please, wanna cum for you!”

he sees you turn your head to look back at him, your eyes filled with only pleasure as he gives you what you want. he slows down, fingers moving quickly on your clit as he says, “show us just how good i make you feel.”

at his possessive words, you let go around him, loud moans as you mvoe against him. jaehyun can feel you clench around him, unable to fight off his orgasm as he fills you up once more. mark moves to hold your hand through your orgasm, the pretty sight of you cumming almost making him hard again.

jaehyun thrusts deeply into you a few more times, letting his cum sink deep inside of you. he pulls away from you, eyes following how his cum seeps out of you. he moves to push his cum back into you, and you whine out at the sensitivity. he laughs at you, moving to lay down next to your collapsed figure.

“i thought you could take the two of us?” he says, trying to hide another laugh.

“shut up, jaehyun.” you say into your now ruined bedsheets.

you push yourself up to his side, jaehyun wrapping an arm around you as you cuddle into his chest. through tired eyes, you can see how awkward mark looks, not really knowing what to do in his post-orgasm state. you smile at him, a hand reaching out to him as you pull him closer to you.

“i’d let you cuddle her-”

you cut jaehyun off, “don’t be rude jaehyun. my sweet boy did so well for us today. right, baby?”

mark blushes as he nods, cuddling up to the side of your body. his face nuzzles closely to your chest, enjoying the warmth of your body and the glow you seem to emit. with enough space, jaehyun cuddles the other side of you, letting you press your head into his shoulder, slow breaths being exchanged between you all.

in the silence of room, you hear jaehyun speak up, “so is mark just going to join us now, or…”

“jaehyun, please, just this once, stop being jealous.”

jaehyun huffs as mark laughs into your side.

taglist: @froggyforyoongi @mwahaechz (OMG ur new user is so cute)

sidenote: who would you guys end up dating, mark or jaehyun? i was debating the whole time but like... i seriously couldnt figure it out... but like... u know..

[corroded-hellfire]

hello!! i have seen so many eddie x fem reader but never a chubby fem reader so? can u do one and plz take as much time

(can it also be smut???)

- suki

This honestly felt cathartic to write. Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy 🩵

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, f!receiving, body image issues

Words: 4.5k

"Ugh, it’s so cheesy.”

Eddie groans and drops his head back against the couch dramatically. You scoff as you watch him out of the corner of your eye, wanting to keep most of your attention on the flickering television screen in front of you. The end of An Officer and a Gentleman plays, where Richard Gere picks up Debra Winger and carries her off bridal style.

“I think it’s romantic,” you say, lazily flicking your hand at your boyfriend’s chest. 

His dark eyebrows raise up to meet his bangs as he kicks his socked feet up on the cluttered coffee table. 

“Really?” he asks. “So, you’re saying you want me to just scoop you up like that and carry you?”

The snort that comes out of you isn’t intentional, but Eddie’s words force it to come out. 

“Hell no,” you tell him. “You’d break your back.”

Eddie’s previously raised eyebrows furrow as he stares at you. His spine straightens and he crosses his arms across his chest, offense leaking into his posture. 

“What do you mean?”

Surely, he must be joking, you think. But the way his gaze is focused on you makes you realize he’s serious.

“Eddie.” You brandish your hand towards your larger body before gesturing to his own svelte frame. 

Unsure how to feel about your insinuation, Eddie shifts in his seat to face you better. He eyes your body, something that always makes you feel a little self-conscious even if it’s in an admiring fashion.

“You think I can’t carry you?” he asks.

“Not without blowing out your back.” 

That has Eddie pushing himself up off the couch and rubbing his hands together. He nods to you as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.

“Let me try,” he says.

“No.” You don’t move an inch. 

Eddie’s shoulders slump, reminding you of a deflating beach ball as he begins to pout.

“Babe,” he whines. “Come on.” 

“No, Eddie,” you reply, tone more definitive this time. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” He waves off your concern as if it’s the last thing on his mind. But you’re aware that it’s very real and know it would only make you feel more uncomfortable in your own skin if your weight hurt your boyfriend. 

“Just drop it,” you try. 

As persistent and stubborn as Eddie is about something once it’s entered his mind, he can see your demeanor changing bit by bit, moving closer to upset. It doesn’t mean he’s going to let it go entirely, though. He’ll let you think he’s forgotten about it for now, just continuing on with the nice evening you’re having. But there’s already an idea turning the gears in the back of Eddie’s mind. 

The next week, you waltz into the Munson’s trailer–having learned long ago that you can just let yourself in–and your brow furrows as you slip off your shoes. Eddie is standing between the couch and the television, doing arm curls with a pair of smaller but heavy-looking weights. Not once have you seen Eddie lifting weights before, so you’re confused, unsure of what’s going on. 

Eddie’s eyes glance over to you, away from the rerun of Who’s the Boss playing on the television and gives you a smile.

“Hey, baby,” he says as naturally as always. “Be done in a minute.”

You finally find your voice as you track his arms moving up and down. “What’re you doing?”

“Knitting a sweater,” he answers without missing a beat. 

“Ha ha, very funny.” You roll your eyes even though he isn’t looking your way and plop down on the couch behind him.

Eddie lets out a small, breathy laugh and turns his head to the side so you know he’s talking to you.

“What’s it look like? I’m lifting weights.”

“But why?” you ask, tucking your legs up beneath you.

When Eddie turns face forward again, you catch a glimpse of his smirk in the reflection on the TV.

“So you’ll have no more excuses about why I shouldn’t pick you up,” he says. 

Letting out a dramatic groan to rival one of Eddie’s own, you flop down on your side and bury your face into one of the couch cushions. Irritated, you pick your head up and glare at the back of your boyfriend’s head.

“This again?” you ask.

“I’m gonna sweep you off your feet,” he says as he begins his last set. “Wait and see.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin whines, leaning back in his seat. He swipes at one of the D20s on the table out of frustration. “Where the hell is he? Eddie’s never been late for a campaign in his life.”

“Are you sure your boyfriend didn’t mention anything about being late?” Mike snaps at you from the opposite side of the table.

“For the third time, Michael,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, “no.”

Jeff opens his mouth to say something, but the drama room door bangs open to reveal their Dungeon Master, his soaking wet hair turning the white portion of the Hellfire shirt see-through. There’s a beat of silence as everyone takes in his appearance. Leave it to Dustin to break the seal.

“Where the hell were you?”

“Is it raining out?” Lucas asks no one in particular, eyes trailing Eddie’s weighed-down curls.

He doesn’t receive a response as Eddie saunters into the room, acting as if he didn’t just break one of his own most important rules. Your boyfriend throws a wink your way and presses a kiss to the top of your head as he passes by you to get to his throne. Once he’s plopped down in the seat and made himself comfortable, he takes in all the eyes staring at him from around the table.

“I was in the gym. Weight room, more specifically,” Eddie says, as if they should have known this all along. 

“Like…where the athletes train?” Gareth asks, nose wrinkling up in confusion. You can taste Eddie’s snarky reply in the air before he even parts his lips.

“Congratulations on knowing what the weight room is, Gareth the Great.”

When Eddie’s eyes don’t meet yours, you wonder if he’s avoiding your gaze or not. He has to know that the fact that he was lifting weights again would grate on your nerves. Either he’s oblivious–which is entirely possible–or he’s being smart and not meeting your glare. Eddie is quiet for a moment, which is so unlike him that you’re wondering if maybe he’s waiting for you to say something. If that’s what he wants he’ll be sorely disappointed though because you’re biting your tongue for now. Even though he’ll definitely hear about it later when there are no witnesses around. 

“All right,” Eddie finally says, clapping his ringed hands together. “Shall we get started?”

Whenever you want to vent about Eddie or something he did, you never have a shortage of friends to go to. Most are glad to lend an ear and a few even look forward to hearing what crazy thing he did this time. But when it comes to how you’re currently feeling in regards to your boyfriend, none of your friends could truly understand because they’re all, well…thin. They might be sympathetic to your situation or even relate in some different way, but none of them would wholly understand because they’ve never been viewed in the same light that you are by society. It’s not their fault they don’t understand, it’s just how it is. 

Unfortunately, you’re not as good at keeping your emotions hidden as you thought you were. It’s only a few days before Nancy corners you at your locker.

“Are you okay?” she asks, narrowing her usually wide eyes at you. 

“Fine,” you say with as much forced enthusiasm as possible while you dig around the locker for your biology textbook. 

“For argument's sake, let’s say I believe you,” Nancy says. “Why have you been so quiet lately, then? You seem distracted, like your mind is somewhere else.”

“It’s stupid,” you say to her as you find the book you were searching for.

“Hey,” Nancy says, voice taking on a more serious tone, “no it’s not. Whatever is bothering you, you can tell me.”

You’ve known Nancy long enough to know she’s truly trying to help you and is determined to find out what’s wrong. You also know that if you tell her that you’re not ready to talk about it, she’ll drop it and respect your wishes. But you have been itching to talk to someone about everything that’s been going on, and the opportunity presented itself to you on a silver platter. 

“After school?” you ask softly. 

Nancy nods. “I’m putting the finishing touches on a story for the paper. I’ll be in there alone.”

When the bell rings signaling the end of school you find her right where she said she’d be. Bent over a few papers, shuffling them back and forth and inspecting them with a small furrow to her brow. As soon as she sees you, though, she moves her work to the side and gives you her undivided attention.

“What’s up?” she asks. 

Trying to buy every second you have before you open your mouth and start to explain your predicament, you make yourself comfortable on the stool across from your friend and situate your bag between your feet on the floor. There’s no more stalling, you realize, as you continue to shift in your seat though. Deep down you know Nancy will be sympathetic and would never intentionally steer you wrong, it’s just the fact that she won’t get it that’s keeping you from spilling your guts. 

“I’m not interviewing you, you know,” Nancy says, the ghost of a smile dancing on her lips. “You can start whenever.”

“Eddie keeps saying he wants to lift me up.”

The admission just tumbles from your mouth, no preamble, no build-up, just straight to the problem that’s been lying heavy on your heart. 

“Okay…” Nancy drags out the word and she leans in towards you. Clearly, she was expecting more to the story than this. 

“And I told him that he’ll hurt himself and now he’s working out and lifting all these weights to prove that he’s strong enough for it.” For someone who wasn’t sure if they wanted to talk about this to begin with, you’re now word vomiting everywhere. Between the speed of your words and the way they seem to come out before being processed in your mind, you’re strangely reminded of how it is to talk with Robin when she’s flustered over something. The thought has you biting back a smile; maybe now you’d give Robin less grief about talking so fast. 

“Why don’t you just let him try then?” Nancy asks.

An internal scream sounds in your head at her question. Of course she doesn’t understand what the big deal is. It’s not her fault, but you also know there are no words you could use to explain it to her to convey how you feel deep down about it. It’s something you either know from experience or not. 

“You’ve seen the two of us together,” you finally respond, voice measured and quiet. “He’s so slender and has some lean muscle, but not enough to lift my fat ass.”

It’s obvious from the way Nancy does her cute little pout that she doesn’t like your comment.

“You are–”

Here it comes, you think. She’s going to say how pretty I am, even though I didn’t say I was ugly–just fat. 

“–stressing yourself out by thinking about this too much. Let Eddie lift his weights. If you still don’t want him to pick you up, tell him. You know he respects your boundaries.”

It’s not what you expected her to say at all, and you admonish yourself for thinking Nancy would be anything less than logical about this. And her logic is sound. You know she’s right, but the emotional part of your brain still isn’t completely satisfied.  

On your way out of the school after talking with Nancy, you pass the weight room and hear someone inside. You peek in the small window cut into the door and spot your boyfriend’s mass of messy curls. He has a barbell over his hips, thrusting them up and down. The sight alone has your knees feeling weak. The motion of Eddie’s hips has you hypnotized for a few moments before you decide to go in.

Eddie isn’t facing the door and he’s wearing headphones, so he doesn’t hear you as you slip in and close the door behind you. Now you can hear the soft grunts that leave his lips with every thrust, and it has you biting down on your lower lip. When you take a step closer, you can hear the music Eddie’s listening to, the song pounding out past the headphones. Even though Eddie doesn’t know you’re there it’s almost as if he’s trying to seduce you. The hips, the grunts, now he’s listening to Burnin’ Up by Judas Priest? That’s the most often played song while the two of you are having sex. 

Deciding it’s fine if you’re perving a bit on your own boyfriend, you watch him while he does a few more reps. As he begins to slow down and finish up, you move to take a seat on the piece of equipment next to him. Eddie grins when he notices you sitting there and tugs the headphones down so they’re hanging around his neck.

“Hey, baby,” he says. “I’d hug you but I’m all sweaty.”

“It’s sexy.”

Eddie laughs at the blunt way you say it. 

“Really?” he asks.

You nod your head and Eddie takes it as an invitation to come over and sit next to you. He wraps you up in his sweaty arms, teasingly wiping his forehead against the shoulder of your shirt. It makes you laugh and you wrap your arms around his damp middle. The black material of his Ozzy shirt is sticking to his skin–and now yours too.

“Gonna go take a shower,” Eddie says and presses a kiss to your temple. “Then we’ll go get some food, yeah?”

“Sounds perfect.”

The next week you’re over at Eddie’s house, on your back with Eddie on top of you as you make out. There’s a long-forgotten shitty horror movie playing in the background, but the cheesy, shrill screams of the victims don’t even register to either of you. 

Rough calloused hands slide down your shirt, moving from your breasts to the hem of your tee, where it’s riding up. Eddie’s skin on yours has you arching your back as his hands travel upwards again. It’s clear that he wants your shirt off and who are you to deny him?

“Bedroom,” you mumble as you break apart just long enough for you to yank your shirt off. Eddie takes advantage of your quick preoccupation with your clothing to scoop you up in his arms, bridal style. “Eddie!” you squeak.

He just chuckles and squeezes you tighter against his body. 

“Maybe now you’ll let me throw you around when I have to punish you for being a bad girl,” he says, a cocky smirk quirking his kiss-bruised lips. 

“A-Are you okay?” you ask, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. “You won’t offend me if you have to put me down.” You’re very aware of his lithe body and how it’s supporting your larger one. This has to be hurting him–right?

“Babe.” Eddie chuckles again and shakes his head. “I’ve been lifting weights that weigh at least double what you do. It feels like I’m holding a feather right now.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you try to determine if he’s lying or not. But the way he holds steady, not seeming to strain or struggle with you in his arms calms your worries. Eddie heads down the hall and carries you into his room and tosses you down on his bed. You land with a bounce and a giggle as he climbs up on top of you. 

His lips attach to your neck as his fingers reach down and fiddle with the button of your jeans. Once it’s popped open and he drags the zipper down, Eddie starts to kiss his way down your body, making sure to press his lips against every part of you that he can. Your chest, your tummy, your hips. When he gets to your jeans, Eddie slides himself off the bed to kneel before you. He makes quick work of getting your pants off and lets out a sinful groan when he sees the wet patch forming on your pale green cotton panties. It encourages Eddie to move even faster as he yanks your underwear off so quickly that you blink and you miss it. 

Eddie dives right in, wasting no time to run his long, talented tongue through your folds. You grip the off-white sheets below you in your fists at his ministrations. The laugh that rumbles through Eddie at your drawn-out groan sends vibrations up your body, only adding to the pleasure. Strong hands wrap around your thighs and pull you even further down the bed so Eddie can get better access to your pussy. His tongue repeatedly flicks over your clit and your eyes practically roll back in your head. Your boyfriend knows exactly how to work you up and bring you to the brink of–

“Hey,” you pout when Eddie pulls back and sits on his heels. “Fuck, Eddie, I was close.”

“I know, angel.” His words are soft and kind despite the mischievous glint in his eye. “But there’s something I need you to do first.”

“What?”

Eddie climbs on the bed and crawls up towards his pillows. He plops flat on his back as he says, “Sit on my face.”

“Eddie,” you say with a breathless laugh. “I’ll crush you.”

“Then I go out doing what I love,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. “I always told you that you’d be the death of me.” Eddie looks over you with those brown doe eyes and you feel the resolve melting away in your chest. “But seriously, please come here. I already miss how you taste.”

Lifting you was one thing, but this seems like something he couldn’t prepare for by going to the gym. The sincere, pleading look in his eyes tells you that he really wants this, though.

“Are you sure?” you double-check.

“God, yes, please.”

Hesitantly, you shuffle up closer to him and lift yourself up to straddle his face. Bracing your hands on Eddie’s headboard, you still can’t bring yourself to lower your body. Just as you’re about to open your mouth and say something to Eddie, your boyfriend wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you flush down against his mouth. 

“Fuck,” you groan. You can practically feel Eddie grinning against your dripping pussy as he gets back to work. After a few moments of making sure Eddie isn’t suffocating below you, you start to relax into it and are able to enjoy the sensations of his tongue leisurely licking up and down your heat. A particularly hard lick to your hole has you letting out a gasp and clutching onto the wooden bedframe hard enough to snap it in half.

“Shit, Eddie. A-Almost there.”

He hums in acknowledgment, even though you didn’t need to tell him. Your body was something Eddie was a quick study in; it didn’t take him long to learn all the little quirks and tells your body gives him when you’re getting close to orgasm. 

“Fuck,” you moan between pants as your breaths become shallower. Sweat slicks your skin as you hurdle towards your peak, body a live wire as Eddie works your body just as flawlessly as he does his guitar. “I-I’m coming, Eddie, fuck, I’m coming.”

Eddie tightens his grip on your thighs as your hips rock against his face. His nose brushes against your clit and it shoots a spark through your body, only heightening your pleasure. 

As the high wears off, you feel boneless and collapse down on the bed next to Eddie. He huffs a breath of laughter and raises himself up on an elbow to watch you recover. Satisfied smirk on his face, Eddie wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand. He only gives you a moment longer to catch your breath before he gives you a smack on the ass.

“Hands and knees, baby,” he says. 

Energy not fully recuperated yet, you give him a nod but otherwise don’t move. Eddie’s not having that, though. A strong arm wraps around your waist and yanks you up, causing you to yelp in surprise. As you settle onto your hands and knees like you were told, you peek over your shoulder to see a cocky smirk adorning your boyfriend’s face. He ghosts a feather-light hand up your spine as he leans in to murmur in your ear.

“Told you I’d manhandle you if I needed to.”

There’s hardly enough time for your brain to process his words before he’s yanking your hips backward towards him. The sudden motion has your arms giving out and you drop face-first into his pillow, filling your senses with the citrus-scented shampoo he uses. The husky chuckle that comes from above you lets you know that this is the exact position he wanted you in any way. You let your eyes flutter closed as you revel in the sensation of him dragging his cock up and down your soaked folds. It’s meant to be teasing you–and it is–but you’d be lying if you said the motions didn’t feel amazing.

Eventually, Eddie can’t take his own teasing anymore–he’s so damn hard in his hand now. He lets his cock drag against your clit one last time before he pushes himself into you. A moan gets muffled into Eddie’s pillow as your fingers involuntarily claw at his sheets. If you were facing him, you know you’d see him smirking. The bed begins to squeak as Eddie moves his hips, his own groans tumbling out as he slides further into you with each thrust until he’s finally bottoming out.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, head falling forward. His hands grip the soft plush skin of your hips hard enough to leave fingerprint-sized marks. You turn your head to keep from suffocating against the pillow, but you know you’d willingly starve yourself of oxygen if it meant Eddie would keep pounding into you like this. “Shit, baby. I’ll never get over how tight you are. God damn, I love your body so fucking much.”

The only response you can manage is a groan, thoughts fleeing from your head with every snap of his hips against yours. His pace begins to pick up and you know he’s getting closer to the edge. But suddenly he pulls completely out of you, leaving you achingly empty. The loss makes you whine as you look over your shoulder at your boyfriend. Words still haven’t come back into your brain yet, so you just questioningly grunt at him, which makes him laugh.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says. Your eyes track him as he shuffles up the bed until he’s sitting with his back against his headboard. He pats his thigh and winks at you. “Get over here.”

He doesn’t need to ask you twice. Throwing your left leg over his lap, you whimper as you lower yourself slowly onto his angry and leaking cock. The moment you’ve seated yourself on him, he thrusts his hips up into you, causing you to gasp and clutch onto his pale, freckled shoulders to steady yourself. 

“Fuck!” you cry. “Yes, Eddie!”

The smirk that graces Eddie’s beautiful features is so self-satisfied. Normally, you’d come up with a witty quip or bratty action to wipe that look off his face, but the pleasure coursing through your veins leaves you incapable of coherent thought. 

Eddie wraps an arm around your waist and starts bucking his hips wildly up into yours. 

“Shit,” you all but scream as you drop your forehead down to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. “God, Eddie.”

“Think my lifting paid off now, baby?” Eddie asks, smugness dripping in his tone. He chuckles and presses a kiss to your collarbone as you nod and bury your face into his neck.

“Yes,” you mumble against his skin before pulling back so he can understand you. “Yes, shit, your hips are magical.”

A chuckle rumbles through Eddie’s body and he tightens his grip around your waist, holding your body flush up against his. As you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climax, your fingernails dig into the delicate skin on Eddie’s back.

“You’re so fucking sexy, baby,” Eddie says. When you don’t acknowledge his statement, he tugs on your hair and forces you to look him in the eye. “Jesus Christ, I love your curves. Every single inch of your body. It’s fucking mine. So perfect, holy shit. How’d I get so lucky?”

“All yours,” you confirm, nodding as much as you can with his hand in your hair. “My body is all yours. Every curve, every i-inch. Fuck, I’m close, Eddie.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” Eddie says between labored breaths. “Come with me.”

“O-Okay,” you stutter out in a whisper.

Your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of pleasure washes over you as you cling to your boyfriend. The way your walls clench around Eddie’s cock has him coming immediately after you, his hair tickling the skin of your cheek as he drops his head forward to rest against your body. 

“Baby, yes,” Eddie moans as he spills inside of you, hips rutting against yours as he fucks his spend into you. 

When he’s finished, Eddie lifts his head up before dropping it back against his headboard. A satisfied smile is on his lips as he looks at you, rosy cheeks and coated in a sheen of sweat as he tries to catch his breath. Your body collapses against his, breathing just as heavily, and Eddie wastes no time in wrapping both of his arms around you. It’s quiet as the two of you bask in the feelings, both physical and emotional. Eventually, Eddie turns his head and presses a kiss into your hair.

“I love you, baby girl.”

“I love you too, handsome.”

“So,” he starts, dotting soft kisses down the length of your neck, “you gonna let me pick you up now?”

It’s not something you even need to think about. “You can do whatever you want if you fuck me like that again.”

The laugh that Eddie lets out has you smiling against his skin. He brings his hand up and lightly trails his fingers up and down your spine. 

“Glad to hear that,” he says. “I think next I want to try lifting you over my shoulder. You know, like firemen do. How’s that sound?”

The question makes you lift your head up to look your boyfriend in the eye. 

“Only if you wear the uniform, too.”

[pupkashi]

nightmares

satoru has nightmares, but so long as you’re there he knows he’ll be okay

a/n: hi friends ! here is some comfort that our favorite sorcerer desperately needs <3 i hope you guys like this and thank u for the request !

wordcount: 1,115

masterlist

satoru was a deep sleeper, and despite facing horrifying and haunting curses day after day, never once did it bother his sleep schedule. he had never once had nightmares about the things he had grown so used to facing, until after his battle with sukuna.

“this is it for you, gojo satoru” the curse smirked, satoru was exhausted, he’d been fighting for hours now and he didn’t know how much more he had left in him. “I’ll tell that lover of yours you didn’t care enough to make it home to them,” the words making him want to get up, to keep fighting.

but his body was heavy and he couldn’t move, and he tried and tried and tried, but the king of curses only smiled down at him wickedly, “so much for the strongest,” he laughed, the sound making his ears hurt, sukuna’s cursed energy surrounding his hand as he swung it at his face.

satoru shot up quickly, a thin sheet of sweat covering his forehead as he tried to steady his breathing.

“‘toru? what’s wrong?” you mumble, still half asleep as you sit up next to him, hand fumbling across the nightstand and flicking the lamp on. “you okay?”

you’re rubbing your eyes, hair still a mess as you finally open them, taking in satoru’s frantic expression. his chest is still rising and falling rapidly and the expression on his face gives you all the answers you need to know.

“sorry i didn’t mean to wake you up” he sighs, his large hands rubbing his face, “let’s go back to sleep.” you frown at his words, not bothering to turn the lamp off as you stare back at him.

“you had a nightmare didnt you,” it was less of a question and more of a statement. you could make out the bags under his eyes, his once sparkling eyes looked a little dull as he forced a smile on his face.

“i don’t have nightmares,” he scoffs, and his chest hurts a bit as soon as the lie leaves his mouth. you don’t say anything as you turn the light off, laying back down and watching as satoru does the same.

he’s quiet as he lays down, his back facing you, eyes wide as he tries to steady his heart.

i won, im safe, you’re safe, i’m home.

the words rattled in his brain, repeating them over and over softly. his eyes fluttered shut for a second, flashes of the battle filling his mind as soon as he did. ‘so much for the strongest.’

his eyes shot open again, the familiar sight of your shared bedroom not bringing the comfort he hoped it would.

you hadn’t taken your eyes off him since he laid down, and your heart ached as you watched his unsteady breathing. talk to me, turn around, anything. you’re sure it’s been over ten minutes when you scoot a bit closer, your hand ghosting over his waist for a second before finally placing gently on him.

there’s a relief that washes over you when you make contact with his skin, a silent sigh leaving your lips as your thumb rubs gentle circles into his side.

satoru tenses for a second, the familiar feeling of your palm calms him, and he can feel his heartbeat finally steadying. there’s a sense of serenity as he feels you scoot even closer to him, your legs nudging his and tangling the limbs together.

he doesn’t say anything. not when your breath is tickling his neck and your arm sliding around his waist, pulling him gently to press his back against you.

“I’m right here,” you whisper, your words are a gentle assurance to him, “you’re okay, angel boy.”

he blinks away the tears forming in his eyes, letting himself relax for the first time since then. you can see his shoulders fall a bit, and you can physically feel his muscles relax under your touch.

you’re okay, he’s home.

“sorry,” he mumbles, his voice weaker than he’d ever want it to be. he can picture the scowl on your face as you smack his gently.

“why are you apologizing? you don’t need to apologize” you remind him, “I’m always here for you pretty boy.”

he can’t help but smile a bit when you squeeze him a bit tighter, your lips pressing feathery kisses on his shoulders. he feels safe, he feels at home in your arms.

there’s a beat of silence before he’s finally turning around and facing you, his messy white hair covering his eyes a bit. you don’t miss a second as your hand reaches out to brush it out of his face, your fingers running through his hair and settling on the back of his neck.

“I’m the strongest, i shouldn’t be like this,” he mumbles, not daring to meet your eyes.

you bite your tongue, going through your words for a second before finally pulling his head into the crook of your neck. satoru doesn’t fight you, melting into your touch as he nuzzles himself further against you.

“you’re satoru gojo before you’re anything else,” you sigh, “you’re allowed to be scared, it’s okay to get emotional,” the press of your lips against the top of his head is enough to make his worries disappear.

you don’t say anything else, opting instead to let your actions say what you couldn’t. you’re holding him closer, running your hands up and down his back soothingly, whispering occasional sweet nothings.

there’s no telling how long you stay that way, only trying to move when your arm is falling asleep.

“toru my arms asleep,” you giggle, expecting him to grumble and move, but nothing happens. “toru?”

the only reply you get is a soft snore. your crane your neck a bit, satoru was fast asleep nuzzled against your neck. his brows weren’t furrowed and looked peaceful for the first time since his return.

you smile softly at him, heart fluttering as he instinctively pulls your closer to him when you wiggle a bit.

“goodnight, angel boy,” you whisper, letting your eyes close, grateful to have your lover home.

you didn’t mind that your arm was asleep and your whole body would probably hurt in the morning. you didn’t care that his soft snores and gentle complaints next to your ear would probably wake you throughout the night. all you cared about was him finally getting the sleep he deserved.

and when you wake up the next morning, and he’s smiling sheepishly up at you, telling you how much he loves you and pressing playful kisses all over your face, you’re prepared to do the night over everyday for the rest of your life.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[dollfaceksj]

still don’t know my name | jjk (m) pt. 3

➥ banner by: @/archivedkookie.

➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader

➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ cybersex ⋆ enemies

➥ SUMMARY: In which your annoying neighbor—that you can’t stand—turns out to be the person behind the online account you’ve been sexting. You still don’t know his name.

➥ CATEGORY: mini three-shot

➥ WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, spanking, spitting, facefucking, brat taming, face slapping, overstimulation, unprotected sex (THIS IS REALLY DUMB DONT DO IT), creampie, degradation, praise, name calling (slut/bitch 😵‍💫 first time a man calls a woman a bitch in my fics but i felt like it fit in this IDK?) choking, kissing (kind of … pining???!!??) oral sex (m & f rec.), minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 8.6k

a/n: the finale is here😘😘 sorry it took so long! i hope u enjoy nonetheless 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

make sure to check out eli’s version too!

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#3 — “game on” [finale]

There he is, obstructing your view completely.

Considering his raw beauty, one might argue that he is the view.

Arms outstretched above his head, hands resting against the doorframe as he looks down at you. With his arms raised like this, you can smell his deodorant. He smells quite nice.

Looks like he’s caging you. Keeping you trapped. Like the villain in a video game with outstanding graphics. You understand people who have a crush on animated characters because he looks ethereal.

The teasing glint in his eyes matches the mischievous one in yours. Like a dance battle that’s been going on for ages and you’re getting closer and closer to the finale. You can basically taste it.

It’s quiet for a few moments aside from your synced breathing. Neither of you seem to be willing to speak.

That is, until you realize that it’s ass o’clock and time isn’t exactly on your side. The decision to break the ice follows you swiftly. “Do you really have no respect for your fellow tenants?”

Acting like you don’t know why he’s here is the only way you can deal with the pounding muscular organ in your chest. It’s pumping blood to the rest of your body at immense speed, heating up your entire body in the process.

But you asked for this. You asked what the hell he was waiting for.

And it’s clear he was waiting on you.

He tilts his head to the side. Stifles a smirk. Raises an eyebrow. Shrugs his shoulders. He looks so smug. You want to punch him.

He clears his throat and looks around the corridor nonchalantly before he decides to give you an answer. “I have a lot of respect for my fellow tenants, actually. I just don’t see you as one.”

Your eyes pingpong between his from left to right, mesmerized by the big black tapioca pearls above his flushed cheeks that are intently staring you down.

“What do you see me as, then?” you ask, quietly yet as bitchy as you can. Arms crossed over your chest. Impatiently tapping your foot against the floor which creates a ticking sound, much like a clock.

Like he’s losing time and once the clock goes off, it’s game over. So much for a Gameboy.

His tongue peeks out from the corner of his mouth and swipes along his bottom lip, toying with his glistening lip rings for a moment.

If that was an attempt to get you to stare at his lips, he succeeded. Weak!

Staring at his lips throws you into a trance and you really wonder what it would be like to have those pressing down on yours. Shut you up. Make you melt into him.

“Granny. Annoying. Loud-mouth. Obnoxious. Rude,” he lists. Your eyes squint at him but before you can even respond, he cuts you off. “Spoiled brat that needs to be put in her place.”

Never mind.

You want to kill him.

You bring your shoulders up in an unbothered shrug. “Bet you won’t.”

Your witty words make him stare at you for a moment longer before he drops his head and humorlessly chuckles, shaking it in disbelief and bouncing his shoulders at that which he finds humorous.

You know he likes it, though.

He raises his head again. Stares at you. Drops his eyes to your pretty lips. Trails your lipline. Lets his gaze linger on your cupid’s bow. Shifts his eyes back to your feigned innocent eyes.

The simple act of his eyes never leaving you has your body heating up. As if lava is pumping through your veins. As if his body is pressed up right against yours. As if every small move you make is equal to putting a handful of sand in your mouth whilst you’re standing underneath the scorching hot sahara desert sun.

“Are you challenging me?” he asks, voice low as if he’s worried other people will hear him.

Ah.

There it is.

The first between you two to acknowledge what’s really going on.

You figured it’d be him anyway.

Now it’s your turn to acknowledge it.

“Not a challenge,” you answer with a slight shake to your head. “An invitation,” you clarify, mischievous eyes still glued to his figure. Consent comes first, after all.

The staring competition lasts just a little while longer. He then straightens his back and drops his hands from the frame of your door. Wastes no time stepping into your apartment. Shuts the door behind him with his foot.

Or at least that’s what you think because the speed in which he lunges at you makes you unsure of anything happening right now.

The momentum of his lunge at you knocks you back but he’s not letting you get away that easily.

One of his hands rests on the back of your head as his lips press down on yours like two magnets finding solace with each other. Your own hand slithers up his chest, nails digging into his shoulder. Some in the fabric of his shirt, some in his burning skin.

No matter how cool he plays it, he’s burning up much like you are.

He keeps walking, backing you further into your apartment until you’re pressed up against a wall. Trapped. Caged.

His tattooed fingers drape around your neck, pulling you closer to his body, closing the gap. Squeezes your throat like he’s afraid you’re going to somehow vanish into thin air.

He presses his lips down on yours even harder. Rougher. Uses his other hand to squeeze your hip. Grunts against your mouth.

Your other hand travels up his body to his bicep. Rests there. Squeezes. His arm is rock hard.

His lips parting makes you copy him, welcoming his tongue into your mouth. His wet muscle massages against yours, rough and needy. He tastes like mint. Must be his toothpaste.

He slowly starts pushing you towards your room and you assume he knows where it is because it’s the same layout as his apartment.

He pushes you until your calves hit the side of your bed. Makes you fall down. You grip his shirt to pull him down with you. He’s on top of you in no time.

He kisses you like he’s got somewhere to be. Pulls his tongue back just to mumble something. You don’t quite understand.

“Hm?” you hum, encouraging him to repeat himself.

He pulls back. “Safeword,” he mumbles again before pecking your lips once more, eyes glued to your mouth.

You stare at him as he pecks your lips continuously, your eyes so big and doe-like. “Uh…” You’re not sure what kind of a safeword would work. Your mind is blank.

He whispers, “Just say something. Anything.”

Anything?

“Butterfly.”

Butterfly? Really? Couldn’t come up with anything else?

“Butterfly?” he echoes.

“Butterfly,” you repeat.

He nods in confirmation and travels his hand down to your hip, dangerously close to the curve of your ass as he presses his lips against yours again in a hungry kiss.

All he needs is a little push.

You give him the little push.

Your hand reaches for your hip, shoving his palm further down your back until it’s resting on your ass.

You pull back from the kiss this time. “You wanna know my safeword but you still don’t know my name.”

He pinches his brows together. Stares at your lips. Looks like he wants to do nothing more than kiss you for years on end.

He brings his shoulders up in a nonchalant shrug. “I like calling you Angel.”

Ah.

Your own eyes drop down to his lips, black pupils trailing his wide cupid’s bow that’s begging to be kissed. “Thought it didn’t make any sense to you.” Your eyes shoot back up to look him dead in the eye. “You know, because I’m far from being angelic?”

He stares at you for a few seconds. Maybe half a minute. Intense eyes pingpong-ing back and forth between your own as if the answers to what goes on in your brain is written in them.

He slowly starts to nod his head. Scrunches up his nose for a split second before he tears his eyes away from you to stare at the wall in your room, at nothing in particular. It’s only then that you notice that he’s been closing the gap between your bodies and you’re only noticing due to the body heat radiating off of him.

He turns his head back to face you but avoids your eyes. Instead he tilts his head down, presses his lips against your neck in a soft kiss. He licks. Nips. Sucks. “Hm. I quite like contradictions, though,” whispers Gameboy.

You’re not sure what he means by it.

“Contradictions?” you echo as you tilt your head to the side, granting him more access to any skin he desires. You try to keep yourself from moaning but to no avail, so your new goal is to not be embarrassed by your heavy breathing and quiet moaning.

“Hm,” he hums in confirmation. All it does is send a shiver down your spine and makes your thighs clench. “You’re my favorite contradiction. Wanna give you nothing yet everything at the same time.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes dramatically, in hopes that he won’t be able to tell how that confession made your heart drum out of control in your chest. You can’t stand how he always knows what to say to get a reaction out of you.

You inquire, “What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he abruptly pauses as he pushes himself off you, resting his ass on his heels. His hands wrap around the back of your knees, adding strength to push them all the way to your chest. Has you almost folded up into a human pretzel.

“Hey, I have joints!” You try to sound angry but you’re barely fighting back. Way to stand your ground.

“It means that I want to fuck the shit out of you but I also don’t want to give you the satisfaction.” He angles his hips in a way that makes his pelvis grind right into yours. It’s hard to ignore the rock hard boner rubbing against your sex and you’ve never hated wearing clothes more than you do at this moment.

“Like so.” He begins to thrust his hips into yours, eyes glued to the way the bulge in his sweatpants rocks against the seam of your leggings that’s located right on top of your pussy.

He starts dry humping you, brows furrowed in concentration. Sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. Finally looks into your eyes. “The only thing a slut like you deserves.”

Oh.

“Don’t you agree?” he whispers, eyes shifting up to yours—finally. Bottom lip still trapped between his teeth and cheeks tinted crimson.

He looks unreal. Ethereal.

A soft moan bubbles up the back of your throat at the sensation and it escapes your mouth before you can catch it.

But his words don’t slip your mind.

You squint your eyes at him. “Fuck you.”

Yeah, sure… that’ll show him.

It happens so fast. You don’t even realize it happened until after your lips have started stinging and a gasp has unintentionally ripped through your throat.

Did he just… slap your mouth?

He did.

Your hooded eyes shoot open and your brows pinch together, unable to ignore the tingle on your lips from the smack he’s left behind on them.

“You think you’re in any position to run your mouth, you stupid brat?” He doesn’t wait for a response from you and simply shoves his thumb past your lips, confident that you’ll happily welcome it.

Unfortunately, you do.

You welcome the tip of his thumb into your mouth, eyes still piercing into his. His eyebrow twitches when you swirl your tongue around it. Gently suck on it. Quietly moan at it.

His eyes stay glued to your face and he can’t seem to decide what he wants to focus on. Your pretty eyes that are lost in his as if you’re the most innocent creature on Earth or your pouty lips that are beautifully wrapped around the tip of his thumb like you’re the sluttiest whore with his dick in your mouth.

Either way, you’re a complete contradiction. How you manage to look so innocent yet so seductive seems like a mystery to him.

One he intends to solve.

He pulls his thumb out of your mouth with a loud pop and places his hands next to each side of your head.

He continues to dry hump you at the same pace but the strength behind his thrusts has changed. He’s snapping his hips so hard into yours that it makes your entire frame jerk from the momentum every time your bodies collide.

He grunts quietly. Shakes his head. “Shit, shit.” His eyes drop down to your lips for a few seconds before back into your eyes. “I need to fuck you.”

Dry humping you for barely 2 minutes and he’s already going back on his word?

You can’t help but provoke him. “I thought you said a slut like me didn’t deserve that? I could be wrong.”

He rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, deeply contemplating something as his teeth pick at the loose flesh on his lips. After a few more seconds of mindlessly staring at you, he pushes himself off you. He gets up before he straightens his back and hoists you up, pulling you off the bed and onto your feet in one swift move.

He doesn’t even need to ask.

You instantly drop to your knees, eyes staring up at him.

He taps your chin with his finger. “Always running your dumb mouth. You know what happens to stupid girls that don’t know when to shut the hell up?”

Before you can give one of your smartass answers, his hand wraps around your jaw and grips it tightly to make you look up at him. You simply blink at him, as innocently as you can.

“They get their face fucked.”

Oh.

The only way to describe what you’re feeling is what you imagine a hot spear shooting down your core would feel like. Leaves behind a warm tingle pooling in your lower belly.

Your hands don’t waste any time as they travel up his thighs and your thumbs tuck under the waistband of his sweats. You flutter your lashes at him in hopes of getting permission to undress him.

He licks his lips and nods his head, watching you intently as you start tugging his sweats down.

You were right, you know. He really wasn’t wearing any underwear.

As you pull the hem down, the black markings come into view.

Your username.

Fuck.

He really is him.

Your eyes glance up at him and he’s already staring at you.

You tug his sweats further down, only to be almost slapped in the face with his dick. A quiet gasp of surprise escapes your mouth as you eye the view in front of you.

It’s exactly as it is in the videos and pictures he sends you.

You stare at it in awe, mouth already salivating.

He wraps his hand around the shaft and taps the tip of his dick against your lips. “Open.”

In the instance that you part your lips, he shoves his shaft right into your mouth without a single warning whilst cradling the back of your head to keep you still.

He doesn’t seem to care about your poor throat as he starts thrusting into it as if he’s got something to prove to the universe.

Saliva drips down your chin and onto your chest, staining your Power Puff girl shirt with dots of spit. Quiet gags resound in the back of your throat as Gameboy continues to push your head further down his shaft.

“Only fucking way to shut you up, isn’t it?” he grunts, the tip of his dick repeatedly slamming against the back of your throat and soft palette.

After a few more rough thrusts, he pulls out of your mouth and tugs your head back by the roots on your cranium to make you look up at him. You gasp for air, not paying any mind to how messy you must look right now.

He simply leans forwards, eyebrows pinched together as his tapioca pearls scan your face in a matter of milliseconds. “You okay?” he whispers, loosening his grip on your cranium and instead softly stroking it.

You blink in confusion at him. You’ve definitely never heard him sound that gentle when addressing you. Maybe only when addressing Bam.

But you quickly realize he’s genuinely just making sure you’re okay so far and whether you have any trouble with how rough he’s being.

With an eager nod of your assurance, he cockily chuckles. “That’s a good girl, isn’t it?” he slyly says before gathering saliva onto his tongue and spitting it out right on top of yours.

He straightens his back again before shoving his dick right back into your wet mouth. Makes him groan. Curse. Twitch on your tongue.

You happily keep your mouth wide open for him and his pleasure, fluttering your pretty lashes up at him. Your eyes blink back the tears repeatedly, almost like they’re trying to snap a photograph of this moment right now. Wanting to commit it all to memory. Wanting to commit him to memory.

“Fuck,” he grunts, “mouth so fucking good. ‘S why I prefer a brat that doesn’t know when to shut up.” His eyes are instantaneously on yours, black and hungry.

You can imagine, to be honest. All that shit-talking you were doing has brought you here. On your knees. Choking on a wet dick that you’ve been dreaming about.

You don’t think you could be any happier than you are at this moment.

“Gonna spill in your mouth,” he moans, hips never faltering in speed and precision.

Every time you open your eyes, you see your own username in faded black marker, right in front of your nose. Like you’ve been branded on him. Like he’s yours and yours only.

With your chest tightening at the pleasure you’re experiencing by giving him pleasure, the way he slips out of your mouth almost goes unnoticed by you.

He taps his dick against your tongue before reaching for your hand and leading it to his shaft. It takes you a few seconds to realize what he wants. He wants you to jack him off until he cums.

You wrap your hand around his shaft and aim the tip of his angry dick at your open mouth, eager to catch his cum on your tastebuds.

His eyes are staring you down so intently that it almost makes you choke on air. Luckily, you’re not a little bitch. You keep holding onto the eye contact like the little brat you are, though, defiant and stubborn.

He scrunches his nose up. Twitches his lips. Stifles a smirk. “Just like that, Angel.”

You keep your mouth open, tongue poking out past your lips. A slight shift on your knees makes you hyper aware of the wetness pooling in your panties.

Shit, you’re really turned on.

“Fuck,” he whispers, “gonna cum.” It doesn’t take long after for his dick to start twitching in your hand. Even less when ropes of his cum start shooting out of his dick, loud groans accompanying the wet sounds your hand makes whilst sliding up and down his soaking shaft.

More curses spill from his lips, eyes trying so hard to stay open and watch himself cum all over your tongue and chin.

With your head tilted and a shit-eating grin on your lips, you continue to milk him of every single drop until he squirms from the overstimulation.

You drop your hand from his shaft and bring your other hand to wipe your chin free of the saliva mixed with cum. His semen glides down your esophagus with a big gulp.

“Shit.” He throws his head back and runs his hands through his black locks. “Didn’t think I’d cum that fast.”

His eyes trail back to you, taking in the way you’re elegantly sitting on your knees, ass perked up on the back of your feet.

“I suppose you really are just all talk,” you quip, a smug grin tugging on the corner of your lips.

The goosebumps on the upper layer of your skin make an appearance when his hand wraps around your throat and squeezes it once. Twice. He bends over. Presses his lips to yours in a quick kiss. Messy. Hungry.

His tattooed hand abandons your throat to hoist you up by your biceps. He starts pushing you towards your bed until you fall back, cranium sinking into your soft pillows.

He rids himself of his tank top and yanks it across your room, not caring where it ends up before diving into your bed with you. Your thighs spread on their own accord, ready to let Gameboy do whatever he wishes.

His tongue makes an appearance as he swipes it along his bottom lip, eyeing the seam in your leggings. It makes his lip rings flick up. Makes your leggings more damp than they already are.

The slightest bit of pressure against your clothed pussy makes you jerk your hips up into his knuckles, the ones he was using to rub up and down your sex.

“You’ve soaked through your leggings,” he comments. “Got that wet from letting me use your dumb mouth, did you?”

His eyes flicker up to yours, the pad of his thumb still rubbing up and down your sex. You suppose he’s checking to see if you’re going to be a smartass about it or not.

You are.

“I got that wet from the thought of you ruining me and fucking me until I’m stupid like you said you would, but in all honesty, I think I might be falling asleep.”

Well.

The simple exhale that leaves his nostrils can only be described as a quick snort as his hand abandons your pussy in its time of need. You’re a second away from whining about it but Gameboy is quicker than you.

Tucks his fingers under the hem of your leggings. Yanks them down your legs. Doesn’t care that he tore the inseam of your leggings.

“Hey! You’re buying me a new pair!” You don’t really care that he tore them, you have a stockpile of these leggings that you could clothe a whole village with. You just want to be annoying.

He simply raises his finger to his lips, wordlessly telling you to be quiet.

“Wha–”

“Shh.” Shushes you. Eyes closed. Lips pursed. Brows pinched.

You lie there, confused. Legs spread. The only thing covering your attention-seeking pussy is the pathetic cotton panties that, by now, have completely been soaked by your arousal.

When you take another breath to speak up, he brings his palm down.

Smack!

“Ow!” Your hips jerk up off the bed once his palm comes in contact with your poor pussy.

Either you’re trippin’ off the hardest acid right now or he actually just spanked your vagina.

“I told you to be quiet.”

It simply earns him a glare but that doesn’t matter to him. The corners of his lips curl up and before you know it, his head dives down your body.

But what you don’t expect is his hands wrapping around the back of your knees and pulling you downwards so your back lies flat on the mattress as he settles in between your thighs, mouth pressed against the sticky fabric of your panties.

You’re barely able to get out a moan before he starts sucking on your sex through your panties, his eyes closed in concentration. He nudges your clit with his round nose. Does it again when you let out a moan that’s sweeter than the bottom of a bag of candy.

He pulls away which almost makes you whine but you clamp your mouth shut when he tucks his fingers under the hem of your panties. Glances at you through his brows.

You keep your bottom lip trapped between your teeth as he slowly starts sliding your panties down your legs, his eyes instantly glued to the faded black markings on your pelvis which spells out his username.

He tosses your panties aside and spreads your thighs by your knees again. His black irises stay glued to your soaking wet pussy, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

“Even prettier than I remember.” He lowers himself again. Wastes no time attacking your swollen clit with his angry tongue.

You reach for his hair, gently tugging on it with your fingers to pull him closer to where you want him. He obeys, burying himself in your sex with his entire face. Shakes his head to give you extra friction. Nudges your clit with his nose.

Your hips involuntarily jerk upwards but it doesn’t phase him in the slightest. He just continues to suck and lick at your pussy like a man starved.

Lying under him now is surreal. After all those months of talking to him, it’s hard to believe you’re in this position right now.

What’s even harder to believe is that he’s here.

That it’s him.

Him, of all people.

Your rude neighbor with a lack of manners and decency.

But for some reason, this makes it even more… satisfying?

He drags you out of your thoughts when he wraps his lips around your clit and pushes two of his fingers into you, creating gushing sounds that only further embarrass you.

He slurps, sucks, nips, licks. Looks up at you. Winks. Smirks.

The cold metal of his lip rings against your hot skin makes a shiver travel up your spine. Summons goosebumps on the upper layer of your skin. He notices. It makes him chuckle. The air from his exhale fans over your pussy. Gets you excited and whiny all over again.

“Shit, you taste way too good for a brat.” He uses both his thumbs to gently spread your folds apart to take in the beauty that is your soaking sex before pressing a soft kiss to your hole and shoving his tongue inside.

“F–fuck!” you cry out as he starts fucking his tongue in and out of you, nose nudging your clit and one thumb circling the rim of your asshole. It makes the all too familiar knot in your stomach slowly form.

“I’m gonna,” you pause, “cum.”

He doesn’t seem to care, though.

Because right as the knot threatens to snap, Gameboy pulls away. Stares you down as your arousal drips off his chin. He wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. The nonchalance he exudes while he does so makes you glare at him.

At least, to the best of your abilities, that is.

You’re a bit fucked out. Can’t feel your toes and your ears are ringing.

“Sluts like you don’t deserve to cum so quick,” murmurs Gameboy as he starts tugging at the hem of your shirt, the only fabric that still covers your body.

“But Jay!” you whine but he simply cuts you off by spanking your poor pussy again. You cry out. Your body jerks. It makes him huff in arrogance.

He adds, “Shut up and do as I say for once.”

You angrily huff as you yank the shirt off and toss it aside, somewhere on the floor near the pile of clothes. This allows your breasts to bounce free and his eyes are almost bursting out of their sockets as he takes the sight in.

His hands reach over your chest before his eyes peek up at yours, waiting for any sign of approval or permission. You reach out to his hands and bring them down to your breasts, wordlessly telling him there’s nothing more you’d want than this.

Even though he just came, he’s already sporting a semi hard-on from eating you out. The moment his hands grope your breasts, a soft groan leaves his throat. He can’t seem to stop staring at them. “Holy shit,” he mumbles, continuing to grope and massage them.

He gently pinches your nipples. Leans down and takes one into his mouth. Sucks with as much fervor as he can muster.

Several moans spill from your lips as he continues and the inflating dick against your thigh doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You hate to admit it but it boosts your ego to the max.

You hate it because men will fuck a hole in a tree. They get turned on by anything. But in this moment, you know that Gameboy wants you as bad as you want him and you can’t wait until he finally does what he came here to do.

“Fuck me,” you whimper, “fuck me, please.”

He raises his head, letting go of your breast with a loud pop as he stares you down. “Oh, wow. Where’s all that attitude? You finally starting to fall off your high horse?” He sounds so full of mockery when he says these things but you don’t care anymore.

If he doesn’t fuck you this instance you might die.

“No, bozo. I’m waiting to see what you’ve got in store. It seems like you keep delaying it because you can’t back your talk,” you reply almost right away.

Almost as soon as the words leave your lips, he slaps you on the mouth again. This time with a little more force that makes your lips tingle with a stinging sensation.

It makes you gasp. Not in surprise but in bliss. You only run your mouth to have him put you in your place. It’s too good of a feeling to know that you can get under his skin like this.

He stares at you with a look in his eyes that you can only describe as a combination of disbelief and amusement. “You’ve always got something to say, don’t you?” he mumbles as he reaches for his pants and rummages through its pockets before returning his attention to you.

You stare at the golden item in his hands. A condom.

Ain’t nobody got time for that.

You don’t even hesitate when you reach out, snatch it out of his hands and toss it to the floor.

It’s almost like he expected you to do that when his chest rumbles as he chuckles. You glance at him with such a desperate look in your eye and you think this time it might’ve worked.

Because he slowly pushes your thighs back and uses one hand to position his already hard dick by your pussy, rubbing it up and down your disgustingly soaked slit.

“You’ve got me dripping with precum, I hope you know that,” he quietly says. Slaps his dick onto your slit a few times. Moves it to the side as he purses his lips to let a drop of his saliva drop down onto your pussy, watching it dribble down your folds. “Fuck.”

Your teeth sink down into your bottom lip as you watch him go to work, the perfect view in front of you. You can see his concentrated face, his glorious body and your own pussy seconds away from a good pounding.

“Ready?” he whispers, eyes shooting up to yours and they’ve got the same twinkle as when he asked whether you were okay during the throatfucking.

You quickly nod and look back down at your sexes, eagerly waiting for him to finally push into you.

And he does.

He slowly starts to enter you, hips moving at a pace that makes you want to scream your head off.

You’re impatient but you know it’s best for your own good.

“Fuck. So fuckin’ tight,” he whispers as he pushes even more until he’s filled you up completely. Your walls uncomfortably stretch around him but you simply welcome the burn as you reach out to his shoulders and pull him closer to you.

He closes the gap between you two and instantly connects his lips to yours, kissing you so roughly that it takes you by surprise considering how gentle his lower body is treating yours.

After a few more seconds of making out, which ultimately helped you relax, you tap his shoulder and mumble the word “move” against his lips.

He hears you loud and clear.

Slowly starts rocking his hips into yours and it makes you moan into his mouth. He simply swallows your moans, licking into your mouth to steal every single sound you make.

You wrap your legs around his waist in hopes of pulling him even closer to you. Your hands cup his face as you slowly pull away from the kiss to look into his eyes.

He returns the eye contact whilst his hips increase in speed and power.

“Do you have other girls?” you manage to ask in between thrusts, eyes still boring into his. You’re not sure why you’re asking him this but you also can’t help but ask.

He stares you down in silence for a few moments before pulling away and straightening his back. He pulls out of you and pushes all the way back in as he holds your thighs apart.

“I have a bunch.” He starts thrusting into you with such speed that it makes your entire body jerk from the momentum, giving him a perfect view of your bouncing breasts. “How about you focus on being my favorite?”

Oh.

That’s all it takes to shut you up as he starts rubbing your clit with one thumb, trying to get you to the edge before he robs you of your orgasm again.

Not to mention the speed at which he fucks you in is borderline animalistic.

Damn. You must’ve really pissed him off.

He drills so deep into you that the sensation in your lower gut is indescribable. You subconsciously stretch out your arm, pressing your hand flat into his lower abdomen in hopes of getting him to slow down.

It means nothing to him, though.

He continues to pound into you, ignoring your hand begging for mercy as he grunts quietly. “Fuckin’ hate how beautiful you are, Angel.”

Clench.

“You like that, huh?” he huffs, one hand wrapping around the back of your thigh and the other slapping your hand away from his stomach. Gives you no choice but to take the pounding like a good girl. “Tightening around me like you’re trying to squeeze my fuckin’ dick off.”

All you can do is fight the moan that’s sliding up your esophagus as you bite into the back of your hand in hopes of swallowing your moans, eyes tightly shut to concentrate.

But he doesn’t like that.

His hand comes down on your jaw in a firm tap. “Look at me.”

You crack your eyelids open just to be blessed with the view of him and his hair sticking to his forehead from the thin layer of sweat it has produced.

“That all you got?” you taunt, referring to the soft slap he delivered to your face just now, if it even can be called that.

He stares at you with a slight squint in his eyes before he chuckles and this time, puts more force behind his slap.

Your face jerks to the side and your cheek tingles from the faint pain. It makes you clench around his shaft in pure ecstasy.

But then it all happens really fast.

He pulls out of you and in one motion, you’re on your stomach. By the time you look over your shoulder, Gameboy has positioned himself onto your ass before pushing into your gushing pussy from behind.

Lying flat on your stomach with your legs pressed together only makes him rub up against your walls even more, allowing you to feel and be able to map out all the veins and ridges on his dick.

The warmth that fans over your ear only suggests that he’s right next to your face, breathing heavily down your neck and collarbones.

“Where’d all that shit talking go?” he whispers quietly, lips pressed against the shell of your ear as his inked hand wraps around your throat from behind.

You try to answer but to no avail, the speed and power he uses to fuck you with has you sounding incoherent and absolutely stupid.

“Look at you now, all fucked out,” he adds, the shit-eating smirk present in his tone.

You slightly turn your head to be able to look at him, brows furrowed together and your mouth dropped open.

His eyes shift to your face and wander all over your desperate features before settling on your eyes again. “God,” whispers Gameboy quietly. “Gonna be the death of me, you are.”

He always knows what to say.

Every.

Single.

Time.

“Kiss me,” you manage to let out without sounding choked.

His eyes slowly drop to your round, pouty lips that shape into an ‘o’. “What’s the magic word, Angel?”

He’s so damn annoying.

“Please,” you say, without hesitation. “Please, kiss me.”

It takes no more than a second before your request has been fulfilled. His pretty lips press onto yours and he wastes no time sneaking his tongue into your mouth.

You continue to moan in desperation and pleasure, allowing him to swallow every last sound that escapes your mouth.

After several moments of kissing, it’s only then that you realize he’s no longer thrusting but instead he’s simply nestled deep inside of you and all his focus is on kissing you.

When you pull away from the kiss, it seems like he, too, realizes this. Clears his throat. Hoists himself up.

To your surprise, he yanks your ass up into the air by your hips and presses his hand flat down on your upper back to keep your face down and ass up.

With your burning face buried in the sheets, all you can focus on is your sense of touch and hearing.

A glob of saliva drops onto your pussy. He rubs it in with his dick before slapping it a few times and easing himself in again.

Your back arches from the sensation as you listen to the beautiful, quiet moans spilling from his lips. Makes you realize that his voice box deserves an award. Or a national holiday. You bet he could be famous if he intended to do anything with his voice.

But the moment is flipped onto its head when Gameboy starts thrusting into you like there’s no tomorrow. Like he’s got something to prove to the universe. Like he’s finally getting his long awaited revenge.

Which he is.

And this is precisely what you wanted when you provoked him all those times.

A loud smack rings in your ears and a sharp sting spreading through your asscheek follows right away, earning a cry from you. He spanks you again. And again. And again.

His other hand sneaks around your hip and furiously starts rubbing at your clit, involuntarily making you clench around his shaft that is forcing it’s way into you repeatedly.

“Fuck’s sake,” he grunts as he rocks his hips into yours and watches your bum recoil against him with each thrust.

The stimulation is starting to wear you out. Droplets of sweat roll down your back like shining pearls and your heart pounds in your chest like a drum at a parade.

You reach behind you to press your hand into his lower abdomen again in hopes of being granted his mercy but this time he doesn’t hesitate. He wraps his hand around your wrist and pins it against your lower back.

“Running your fucking mouth and now you think I’ll take it easy on you? Isn’t this what you wanted?” he scoffs as he uses his other hand to grip your hip to smoothly pound into you. “Shut the fuck up and take this pounding like you’re my bitch.”

Oh.

You wish you could rebuttal, you wish you could insult him, say something, anything.

But all that’s leaving your mouth are pathetic moans and cries as your stomach starts tightening and your walls start clenching around him.

“Ah, you liked that, didn’t you? So filthy.” He lets go of your hip and reaches around to start rubbing circles onto your clit again as you shiver and squirm under him. “Just how I like it.”

You can’t even for the words to tell him that you’re seconds away from cumming but it seems like he understands nonetheless because he’s simply shushing you and adding quick “I know, baby”s in a low voice.

Just when you think he’s granting you your much needed orgasm, he abruptly turns you over on your back. Before you have any idea on what’s going on, he has wiggled himself in between your thighs and entered you once again, leaving you no space to even catch your breath.

“Jay–”

“I wanna see your face when you cum,” he tells you as he reaches for your clit to help you reach your orgasm. “You’re so fucking lucky it’s like 3AM. I would’ve fucking edged you for hours on end.”

Ah. Damn it.

You quickly nod your head with your eyes focused on your sex being pummeled. “Fuck, fuck. Please,” you whimper, squirming under his frame which only makes him chuckle.

“Beg, baby,” is all he says.

Fuck.

“Please,” you say, “please, please, please.”

You don’t even know what exactly it is you’re begging for but he knows. He knows because he keeps nodding, has one hand groping your bouncing breast while the other stimulates your clit just the way you like it.

Your stomach soon tightens and it makes the words stutter in your throat. You can’t even make a coherent sentence but all he does is nod his head in understanding.

“You’re creaming all over my shit, you know that?” he groans as he stares at his own dick sliding in and out of your pussy, focusing on all the arousal you’re leaving behind on his shaft like a trail.

“Shit,” you cry as your thighs start to clench and your core starts to burst into flames. Your frame completely shudders under him. The moans and whimpers spilling from your lips are loud yet soft and the feeling is indescribable.

You tightly squeeze your eyes shut as the orgasm washes over your tired body, making you see all the celestial bodies in the universe on the back of your eyelids.

All your nerve endings are set alight and every single hair on your body stands up straight, like a soldier at attention.

His thumb on your clit never falters in speed and precision and his hand has returned to your thigh, firmly holding it in place as he fucks you through your much needed orgasm.

Your chest inflates and deflates dramatically, trying to catch your breath which constantly seems just a millisecond away every time.

He keeps going though, his stamina proving to be S tier.

Clenching all around him and finally reaching your orgasm has his hips slightly stuttering in their rhythm, his dick twitching inside of you. “Fuck. Where do you want it?”

You blink back your tears as you gather your energy to prop yourself up on your elbows. You stare straight at him as he awaits a response.

“I want it all inside.”

That’s all he needs, really.

“I’m cumming soon,” he grunts, unable to steady his heavy breathing like he has up until this point. “Pussy so fuckin’ good, Angel.”

His thrusts are sloppy and imprecise but that just makes him that much hotter. You flick your tongue up on the pad of your thumb and bring it to his nipple as you slightly tease it, rolling the erect nub around under your finger.

His breathing only gets heavier and you’re not helping his case when you continue to clench around him like you’re trying to milk him of every last drop he has to offer.

You are.

“Fuck,” is all he says before dropping his head into the crook of your neck and giving a few powerful thrusts before ropes of his warm cum shoot into you and paint your walls. A loud groan leaving his mouth is cut short when he presses his lips against yours, giving you a heated kiss as he unloads inside of you.

There’s so much cum that a good amount of it spurts out of you with every single thrust he gives you. He quietly moans against your lips when the final drop shoots out of him and straight into you, which only makes you moan back.

Fuck. You really just got creampied by the man whose guts you hate and vice versa. Sexual tension is a bitch.

He continues to kiss you, though, gentle and exhausted like he’s got nowhere to be and only wants to kiss you for hours on end.

You don’t know why but you welcome it with open arms. Wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Tilt your head slightly to deepen the kiss.

The makeout session lasts longer than either of you expected.

Not that anyone is complaining.

Then, you two finally break apart and gasp for air.

He slowly, very slowly pulls out of you. He wraps his hand around your leg to lift it a bit higher up in the air and stares at your ruined sex with his teeth sunken into his bottom lip.

You lie there, staring at him with a quirk in your brow as he gently rubs your inner thighs with his thumb.

It’s quiet.

Really quiet.

Is the post-nut-clarity making him regret everything?

You don’t exactly know how to feel. You don’t regret it. It felt good. You haven’t felt that way in a long time.

Right when you begin to overthink, he asks, “Was I too rough on you?”

You blink at him a few times before shaking your head. “You were perfect.”

The compliment makes the corners of his lips curl up and finally makes his eyes shift to yours. You hadn’t noticed he was avoiding your gaze.

He glances at you for a few moments before springing up from the bed and sliding his sweats back onto his legs. You glare at him from across the room and watch as he exits your room.

You stare at the ceiling in silence. What just happened?

Was this a one time thing? Well, to be fair, you were planning on inviting him to stay an entire week but that was before you even knew who he was.

He’s back a few moments later with a damp towel and approaches you on your bed, gently wiping you clean of his cum. “You should go pee.”

You squint your eyes at him in suspicion but quickly let it go as he’s focused on cleaning you up. “Oh, so, you do have manners after all?”

His eyes immediately shoot up at yours and his hand comes to a halt. When he sees the bratty look on your face, he simply chuckles and shakes his head before returning his attention to your poor sex.

“Can’t fuckin’ stand you,” he mumbles but can’t seem to hide the smile threatening to creep on his lips.

It makes your own lips curl up into a soft smile. “As long as you continue to fuck me like you just did, you don’t have to be able to stand me.”

He uses a dry spot on the towel to dry your skin down a bit before glancing into your eyes. “You intend on doing this again?”

This makes you frown. Makes your heart sink into your stomach. Makes you slowly close your legs and cross your arms over your chest. You don’t know why. Is it shame? Regret? Humiliation? “You don’t?” you ask him, voice suddenly sounding small and uncertain. You hate it.

“100% but I wasn’t sure whether you’d be on board with that.” He gets up from your bed and hands you your underwear. “I thought you’d want to take out your frustrations once and then have it be done with.”

When he sees you not moving, he takes it upon himself to slide your panties onto your legs. Makes you hoist your hips off the bed. Slides them right into place.

There’s a slight pinch of relief in your chest and you deeply exhale. “No.”

He slowly nods his head and awkwardly scratches the back of his head.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him like this.

He’s pretty cute.

“Okay, well,” he mumbles as he looks around your room and picks his clothes up off the floor. “It’s really late. I’ll, uh,” he pauses, “see you tomorrow?”

You blink at him for a few moments and then quietly chuckle. “You can stay the night, you know.”

He raises his eyebrows and runs a hand through his damp hair. You hadn’t noticed how sweaty he’d gotten. “Getting a soft spot for me, are we?”

A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest when he sees the nasty glare you throw his way, along with the pillow next to your head, which he swiftly dodges. “I appreciate the sentiment but Bam’s alone and he has separation anxiety.”

Oh.

Scratch that. He’s really cute.

You can’t help but let a soft smile creep on your lips. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He nods his head absentmindedly and slowly starts backing out of your room.

“Wait,” you call out as you sit up straight. You use your sheets to cover your chest in modesty as you watch him come to a halt.

He glances at you over his shoulder, eyebrow quirked.

“You,” you pause, “you still don’t know my name.”

Silence.

He stares at you for a few more moments before chuckling. “I know your name.”

Huh?

“Wh–”

He cuts you off.

With your name.

He just said your name.

You blink in confusion a few times. Swallow thickly as you try to think of a logical reason as to how he could possibly know your name.

Did you somehow tell him and forget? Did he hear Jimin call you by name? Did he ask your landlord?

“How do you know my name?” you quietly ask, gently sucking on your bottom lip in uncertainty. He’s making you doubt your own memory.

He brings his shoulders up in an infuriatingly arrogant shrug. “We live in the same building, babe. All I had to do was look at a letter addressed to your apartment number.”

There’s no way he did that.

Did he actually go out of his way to look up your name? Didn’t he ask you what your name was earlier? Was he testing to see if you were going to lie about it?

He shrugs his shoulders with an air of nonchalance before opening the door to your bedroom. “You can call me Jungkook. Or Jay, I’m not picky.” He steps out and turns to look at you one last time. “As long as it’s my name in your mouth when you spend nights like these.”

And with that, he disappears from your line of vision but reappears in your mind like a tick that has latched itself onto your brain and refuses to leave.

Huh.

Okay. You see how it is.

And now your thoughts are clouded with everything that just happened. His hands on your skin, his lips on yours, his rough pounding on your poor nether regions. You did ask for it after all.

Every time you think about it, you want to scream. You turn your head and whimper into your pillow but every time you do, you smell him. His scent is everywhere. And as much as you hate to admit it, he smells absolutely amazing. You could bury your face in his chest and inhale it for the rest of your eternity.

Your phone buzzing on your nightstand makes you flinch and it sucks you back into reality.

You quickly turn over and reach for your phone before unlocking it and opening up the text conversation with him.

@archurback4me | 4:05AM

Goodnight Angel

And just so you know

I won’t lose to you

You hate how cheesy the smile is that creeps on your lips, internally thanking the Lord that no one is witnessing you and your big goofy smile.

You | 4:07AM

game on, gameboy

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⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

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— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

@mygdday @coletaehyung @btspurplesky @kaitieskidmore97 @marvelbun @nini_07777 @8514238 @llallaaa @s3l3n0phil3 @agrika @ahgasegotarmy116 @canyon-lwt @boyfriendtaekook @s4yok0 @mochminnie @chimmisbae @muah-minhoe-8 @bloopkook @whoa-jo @dreami-yoonkookie @earth2fae @kissyfacekoo @keroppitae @junecat18 @hollowtree11 @jksusawife @synnfulqt @pamzn @jknoah @jjk-jeongirl @busanstarkoo @busanboykoo @codeinebelle @taegicity @bettybloop @kookssecret @MMFranklin @vickyyy97 @suciedad-divina @jkslipppiercing @heyyolly04 @partyparty-yah @kooact @osakis-gf @luna-astro-star @plushjeno @jjk1iscoming @Heyrobitches @sunnysorasworld @raineo @jjanjankook @etaerealboyv @somehowukook @larryrulesthisfuckingworld @rrrapmonste-rr @denisaandreea20 @httpjeonlicious @jjeonjennie @dellalyra @optimisticmoongalaxy @ishizhans

[in-another-april]

hey carmen!!

i love your writing so so much:(( the way you characterize Spencer is so sweetie pie:((

Do you mind giving us some sweetie pie spencer bestie to lover content!! this is a suuperr niche request so no pressure obvie!!

i love love this request thank u so much!!! let me know if you want me to change anything, i hope u enjoy <3

Before you get together, there is going to be so much mutual pining. Spencer is a mixture of insecure and clueless, he really cannot tell that you're trying to hit on him. Even when he can, he dismisses it as him just taking it the wrong way, because surely someone as perfect and wonderful as you wouldn't like him like that, right?

Literally everyone except for the two of you can tell you're in love, he is so not subtle!! You're the first person he looks for in a room, he practically sprints to sit next to you before anyone else can, and he gets so, so pouty whenever someone else tries to flirt with you. One time you come into work complaining about forgetting your jacket at home and he jumps out of his chair insisting, "You can borrow mine!!"

And, yeah, he doesn't get any work done that day, too busy blushing and staring at you in his clothes.  You conveniently "forget" to give it back, and he conveniently "forgets" to ask.

You're always looking for an excuse to be near each other, to touch each other: You fall asleep on his shoulder on the jet, he rests his head against yours. He takes your hand when he notices you seem stressed, you affectionately brush your thumb along the back of his hand. One of you goes in for a hug, the other holds on just long enough to be considered more than friendly...

And you are both still so oblivious!! No matter how many times you go to look at him and find he's already staring at you. No matter how many times you’re both reading/looking at something for a case and he leans in way closer than necessary to see it. (“Spencer, don’t you have your own copy?” “…I… seem to have misplaced it.”) Neither of you ever confront these obvious feelings.

Until!!!

A new agent on your floor assumes you’re together, complimenting what a cute couple you are. Spencer, of course, loses it, getting all bright red and completely flustered because there is nothing more that he wants than to be considered your boyfriend, even if it’s just being mistaken as such. (He’ll take what he can get.) But you take his reaction as him being uncomfortable with the idea, and in an attempt to ease his concern (even if it does break your heart), you quickly correct them that oh, no, you’re just friends.

Then Spencer’s face falls and his heart is the one that’s breaking because why were you so quick to correct them? Do you really not like the idea of being with him that much? He knows it’s silly to be upset, you’re not together and you never did anything to suggest you were (completely wrong but we’ll let it slide) but there was a small part of him that really hoped that maybe, possibly, his feelings were reciprocated.

But now, clearly, they’re not, and he can’t help himself from avoiding you the next day because it hurts to be around you knowing he doesn’t have a chance. But then it only gets worse because it hurts just as much to be away from you, and you seem so concerned about him, and oh god he has no idea what to do with himself.

He comes to your apartment after work, and you somehow answer the door right as he starts to knock. The words struggle to come out at first, but then they do, and then he’s rambling, and it’s not entirely intelligible. But you get the gist, and it’s that he’s so in love with you! He seems so frantic that for the first time in your life, you want him to stop talking, so naturally you do what any other normal person would. Kiss him like your life depended on it. Right in your doorway. And. I don’t think there’s anything more I can (or should) say.  

masterlist | inbox ← requests open! ♡

taglist - @lover-of-books-and-tea @maskysluvr @aurorsworld @wisteriaspencer @radioactiveinvisible @mandarinmoons (send an ask or message to be added/removed!)

[ilwonuu]

𐦍༘?can i 𐦍༘⋆

↬ choi seungcheol

𓇣 pairing- nonidol!cheol x fem reader, dom!seungcheol x sub!reader, bestfriend!cheol x fem reader, friends to lovers<3

𓇣 summary- your best friend calls you late at night for something other than a innocent hangout.

𓇣 warnings- dumb confessing love to each other, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, cum swallowing, kissing, MDNI, lmk what else

𓇣 a/n- this is just a random fic that u wrote a long time ago.. i liked it enough to post so lmk what you think!! should i write a part two? ALSO IM BACK FROM LITERALLY NOT POSTING FOR DAYS!!!! im posting a lot of fics today<3 luv u guys 😡

tossing and turning in your bed has gotten you wide awake. you’ve been trying to fall asleep for the past hour. it now being 1:30am as glance at your clock.

you sigh closing your eyes again before you start to get a call. you groan reaching for your phone. seeing it’s seungcheol you make a confused expression, pressung answer.

“cheol? it’s so late what’s up?” you question and he just sighs. “okay- um this is gonna sound crazy but can i pick you up? i’ve been thinking you all night.” he confesses. his voice sounding tense but lust filled.

“thinking about me? what do you mean?” you are beyond confused now, wanting him to explain it. of course cheol has said something like this to you before, but this time it feels different.

“just let me come get you and i’ll explain then. can i?” he asks. you don’t even know why but your mouth is immediately saying that you would love for him to pick you up.

you having no control when it comes to cheol. you sigh again as you force yourself out of the warmth of your bed to grab some pants to throw on.

quickly changing as you know cheol, how fast he would get to your house. speaking of, your phone lights up with a text from the boy telling you he’s outside. you slip on your slippers and head out of your house into his car.

“well good morning to you.” you say sarcastically as you get into the passenger seat. “can i just drive and explain? it’s kind of a lot to take in.” he starts to drive to your guys usual spot to watch the sunset. you couldn’t do that now obviously…

“so.. were you asleep when i called?” “no unfortunately i haven’t been sleeping very well and these were one of the completely sleepless nights.” he sighs not taking his eyes of the road.

“i’m sorry i hope you can sleep better tomorrow.” he says looking at you for a moment to give you a soft smile before finally arriving at your spot.

“are you gonna tell me why you wanted to pick me up at 2 in the morning?” you turn your gaze to him and he just nods. “don’t freak out okay-“ he cuts himself off.

“y/n- i’m in love with you. and everyday i’m more and more in love with you. i couldn’t get confessing to you off my mind. i wanted you to know in person.” he says looking at you for a reaction, response, anything.

“cheol i-“ he sighs thinking he already knows what you’re gonna say. “i know you don’t feel the same. i had a feeling you didn’t but i just need to tell you okay? it was killing me and i just don’t want anything to be weird now-“ you stop his words with your finger.

“cheol shut up. i’m in love with you too.” you confess as well catching him completely off guard. “wait are you serious? don’t mess with me that’s not funn-“ you cut him with a kiss against his lips.

“you believe me now?” he nods pulling you to kiss him again. “you don’t know how bad i wanted to do that.” he admits with a deep sigh.

“cheol-you know-i- me too.” his hands intertwined with yours. you feel so safe with him. you want nothing more than to be his. you want him to be yours.

“y/n i- please let me kiss you again.” and that’s how you ended up here. on your knees in the backseat next to your best friend, reaching for his dick as he fucks his fingers into you.

“cheol-“ he smirks down at you. “feel good baby? keep going.” you nod at his words finally pulling his dick out of his pants. shocked at the size of course. you have never been with anyone with a dick this big- nearly coming on his fingers.

“go ahead, let me see you baby.” he’s looking down at you with intimidating eyes. you give his dick a couple strokes causing him to hiss but mindlessly ruts his hips up with your hand.

you kitten lick the tip of his dick not breaking eye contact with him. a load groan erupting from him. his fingers are starting to fuck into you faster. your moans against him making him crazy.

“fuck just like- that. feels so fucking good.” his hips moving with your mouth as you fuck yourself back onto his fingers.

“look at you. o-oh fuck” your mouth speeding up on his cock. his fingers curling inside of you causing you to moan. you gag on his dick as his hips start to meet your mouth.

you cum on his fingers hard as you feel him start to fuck your mouth. he fucks his fingers into slowly before pulling them out to bring them up to his mouth.

he hums before groaning when he sees you looking up at him. he pulls his fingers out his mouth, his hand inching to your ass rather quickly.

“i’m gonna- fuck i’m coming. you’re so beautiful.” his cum shooting deep into your mouth as his hips fuck up with his groans.

you keep eye contact with him as you swallow. he groans trying not to fuck your mouth again. you sit up to kiss him.

“you’re so pretty.” he gives you a big smile as the two of you get dressed. you blush and look away from him. “want to come to my house?” he smiles at you.

[planetpedri]

hii, i was hoping i could request a pau cubarsí x reader—maybe a fic where she pranks him by calling him by his friends name? thank you i love u 💕

Keep it cool — Pau Cubarsí.

Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a boring day at home, you decide to mess around with your boyfriend.

Word count: 445+

Disclaimer/s: banter , slightly annoyed!pau to fluff !

A/N: no clue what or where i was going w this..

You had invited Pau over to keep you company while you cleaned your room, which was simply an excuse to hang out with him. He sat back on your bed, phone in hand while you folded laundry.

Your TV was being used as a speaker, playing music at an acceptable volume. ‘Ivy’ by Frank Ocean was playing, which had your eyes flickering up to your boyfriend with a grin.

‘Ivy’ had long since been coined as your song, ever since Pau had claimed when he thought of it, he thought of you, and you found that very adorable.

Getting sick of cleaning, feeling far too bored either it, you sigh. “What are you doing?”

“Texting my mom, she asked what we want for dinner.” He turns his phone around to show you as if you needed proof.

“We’re going to yours?” You cock an eyebrow, “thanks for asking, I suppose?”

Pau laughs, “I knew you would say yes anyways.”

“True.” You nod, returning to your clothes as the room falls silent again.

Stupidly, an idea pops into your mind and you had to pinch yourself to not grin. “Can you pass me my phone?” You don’t bother looking up, just pushing your hand in his direction.

Pau leans across the bed, setting the phone in your hand. “Thanks, Marc.” You try to grab your phone but it doesn’t budge and your eyes dart in his direction.

Pau’s face had fallen flat, his eyebrows pinching together. “Excuse me?”

“My phone please?” You quirk an eyebrow, feigning confusion.

He lets go, dropping his grip the phone. “What did you just say?”

Setting your phone down on the floor, you continue to fold your clothes. “I said ‘thanks, babe’?”

“No.” He wags his finger, “you said, ‘thanks, Marc.’ Why did you say Marc?” He wasn’t even hurt, just genuinely confused and maybe a little annoyed.

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re talking about.” You shrug, standing to bring your folded clothes to your dresser.

Pau’s jaw clenches, “don’t..” He takes a breath, “don’t play dumb, please just answer my question. Truthfully.”

You spin around on your heels, your expression teasing. “I’m messing with you, Pau.” You climb onto the bed, plopping down beside your boyfriend. “It was a joke.”

Pau gives you an annoyed look, head rolling to the side to look down at you. “Never do that again.” His face softens slightly, “seriously, you had me worried for a second.”

“I’m sorry.” You drag out the ‘y’, cupping his cheek with one hand to bring his face closer. Giving him a quick kiss, you pull away, “super sorry, in fact.” Ignoring your apology, Pau leans back in for another kiss.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future pau posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @sakashq @ar4ujos @hrts4havertz @spidybaby @unx100to @joaoflms !

[ennabear]

Hiya ennnabear!! Back with another req (　ﾟ 3ﾟ)

can i ask for sum sevika x hyperfemme!reader? Could either be a fic or a list of headcannons, nsfw or sfw, i really dont mind !! >3< the prompts up to your interpertation!! Whatever u feel comftorable with!! ＼(^o^)／

I can just imagine Sevika, with her pastel pink, poofy-dressed eyecandy, sitting on her lap as she plays cards .. the people shes playing with all sorta eyeing reader because like what the fuck?? And reader is just like 'oh sevikas just so adorable shsjkassjksksk cutie patootie i wuv her!!!!!' while Sevika is off in the distance beating someone half to death because he touched her shoulder .. on accident ( ﾟーﾟ)

also, i beg of you to use inspo from that one scene in deadpool where he meets yukio. I kid you not thats where i got this requests inspo from.

"What in the fuck knuckles is this?"

(Sevika, with a literal living doll in her lap) "Shes my girlfriend you intolerant shit."

"Woah! Pump the hate breaks, fox-and-friends! Im just suprised anyone would date you! Especially pinkie pie from my little pony."

aaaaa i love this woman sososo much ( ´∀`) my 6' criminalistic murderer drug (shimmer) addict babygirl (〃_ _)

thanks in advance if u decide to write this !! sorry for the agonizingly long yap sesh (^_^;)

--🃏🌀⭐️

(and now to crawl back into my pit of lesbian shame .. (ФωФ))

HIII ANON sorry this took me so long to answer but i’m occupied with writing 2 sevika oneshots so i hope i can earn your forgiveness once they’re out 🫶 also i yapped a lil about hyperfemme!sevika here so ignore the fact that i can’t follow a request to save my life!!! 18+

ok so the way i envision sevika’s girlfriend would be a little bit… drag-ey?? i don’t really know how to explain it so allow me to elaborate…

1. we already know that femme lesbians are feminine in a way that’s different from feminine straight women (more cutesy, stylish, female gaze, etc.) but also…

2. with the way people dress in zaun (when they’re not murdering each other) and the general way they’re animated is very costumey. lots of face paint, masks, sophisticated outfits.

so i think in the arcane universe you’d probably dress something like this. painting your skin weird colors, covering yourself head to toe in body glitter, wearing expensive wigs, corsets, and heels that look impossible to move in, and stuff like that.

that means sevika would try to make sure you’re comfortable 24/7!!! especially if you’re wearing something potentially dangerous like heels that are two feet tall, she wouldn’t let you walk the whole night, instead picking you up and hauling you around.

as if the money silco pays her isn’t enough, she makes tons of money from the guys she gambles with. she spends every last PENNY on you. it’s not like she needs to spend it on herself though, her arm and her scowl are a pretty deadly weapon, and she doesn’t go all out with clothes like you do.

also i think she’d completely fold if you ever wore a low cut top or even no top when you go out with her (and she doesn’t believe in bras… so…) especially if you have piercings in/around your tits, she’d be fondling them and groping them all night!!!

she 10000000% has a thing for public sex!!!! while she’s playing cards, she’ll slide your skirt up (if it’s even long enough…), and have you ride her strap. the dumbfucks she’s playing with would gawk and stare at what’s obviously going on in her lap, but she’s about to rob them of their money, so they really shouldn’t be focusing on it.

oooh and once you finally cum, she’d be like “good girl, now give me another. okay?” and her fingers would start vibrating as you slump down next to her… of course you might get weird looks, but if anyone tries to say or do anything about it she could literally just kill them. (or maybe she’s feeling nice and will break a few of their ribs instead, who knows…)

she’d be constantly covered in some kind of your makeup. especially if you wear a crazy color lipstick like bright blue or something, her lips and cheeks and nose would be that color the whole night. and if you wear body glitter, it would look sooooo pretty on her skin. she’d be glaring at people all night like 😡😡����😡 but her face and hands would look like ✨✨🌈🦄🩷✨✨

adding onto that, she’d look sooo pretty if she let you experiment (which is a pretty big IF), but imagine her with her hair curled, wearing pretty purple glitter on her cheeks and arms, in some sort of heeled boots that make her even taller than she needs to be, and in a dress?? in a short dress??? sevika in a short dress???? i’ll (s)cream right now…

if someone manages to corner you and talk to you about sevika, the conversation would be hilarious and very unproductive. they’d be like “why her? doesn’t she scare you?” and you’d be like “sevika? my little baby bear?? my knight in shining armor who screams at the sight of bugs??? no… she doesn’t scare me…”

meeting silco and the rest of the last drop crew would be… quite the experience. they’re all staring with wide eyes, practically shaking because of how scary she looks, and then there’s you with your hands entwined with hers, some of your bright pink face paint smudging onto her cheeks and neck as you nuzzle into her. silco’d find her alone for one moment and ask “who the hell is that?” and she’d reply with “my girlfriend. 😾 don’t mess with her.” and he’d be like “your girlfriend? your girlfriend is a barbie doll?? o…kay… congrats to both of you…”

[alexwritingspot]

hii!! I was wondering if you could write percy jackson x reader with prompt 3 or 7? I know that you wrote an enemies to lovers recently but those are the vibes that these two prompts give me. maybe it can be something else! feel free to do whatever you're comfortable with!! love you, thank u!!

Hidden feelings…

An unexpected convocation from the gods leads to a messy confession behind the closed doors of a elevator…

Prompts 3 and 7: “Wait- are you jealous?” “You wanna kiss me so bad~”

pairing: Percy Jackson x reader

word count: 1.4k

Warnings: none

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A/n: Hi darling! I deeply apologise for making you wait so long! 😓 In the start I had promised myself I would have written your story pretty early, but then I didn’t have a scenario in mind! So I’m really sorry if you waited like- two months, before getting your request done, hope you won’t unsubscribe because of this 🧡😭 anyway, enjoy your reading!

P.S. I tried making this a bit longer as an apology

————————————————————————————

You couldn’t believe it. You were walking to the Empire State building with Percy Jackson, the famous son of Poseidon, the hero of the Olympus and also your enemy. You didn’t really hate each other, you simply couldn’t stand him because he always took the spotlight on himself, leaving the others with no time to shine. Even if he claimed that he didn’t want all the attention for himself and that he even tried to hide from the spotlight you didn’t quiete believe him. But here you were, walking by his side after a flash convocation from the Olympus, what did they possibly want?

You had tried to figure that out since Chiron had called you over at the big house, but you didn’t give yourself a proper answer. You kept walking and you tried to ignore the glances that sometimes Percy sent your way. “Today the sky is really cloudy” he said in a attempt to try and make conversation “I bet the king himself didn’t wake up with the right foot” he joked, trying to ease at least a bit the palpable tension between the two of you. “I bet that he’s going to fulminate you one day if you keep talking about him like that” you said with a sharp glare threw in his direction.

After walking for about ten minutes more you both arrived at the entrance of the enormous building. “Here we are” you said, and before Percy could add anything else you were already inside the skyscraper.

You entered the building and went straight to the receptionist “600th floor” You simply said, giving the poor employer a death glare. He looked back emotionless “we don’t have a 600th floor” he was doing his job, you didn’t really blame me for it. “Look, you’re talking to a child of g/p and a son of Poseidon so you better let us in-“ before you could finish Percy stepped in, gently pushing you aside.

“Sorry for my friend here, but you see, they are having a bad day and a convocation from the gods really was the cherry on the top, but we need to get on Olympus as soon as possible, you wouldn’t want Poseidon or g/p mad at you because you didn’t let their children up, would you?” He pulled out a confident smile and you rolled your eyes.

The man looked between the two of you before stamping something on a paper sheet. “And what might your names be?” He asked, and you were starting to lose it “Listen here you little-“ but before you could add anything else Percy pulled you back again “Percy Jackson and Y/N L/N, now may we enter the elevator… please?” He looked at the employer expectantly.

He stamped something else before getting up and starting walking “this way” Percy let out a sigh of relief. You and the son of Poseidon followed him until you were arrived “Have a nice trip to Olympus” he said flatly, before walking back to his desk.

The two of you entered the elevator and when the door closed leaned over the mechanical box’s “wall” to catch your breath.

”I’m not your friend” You suddenly blurted out “I didn’t come here to keep you company or anything, I came here cause I was summoned by Zeus himself, so don’t make up strange ideas in that head of yours.” You warned and crossed your arms.

He looked at you slightly hurt “Has a manticore stung you or something? You’re more bitter than usual.” You shot him a death glare but said anything, his eyes had caught your interest, they were beautiful… For Hades, what were you thinking?!

You quickly looked away and waited as it played in the background an old song named “You make my dreams (come true)” by some old singer you couldn’t remember the name of. You wondered who had chosen the elevator playlist, it had probably been Apollo or one of the muses.

You glanced around and found Percy staring over at you, he had a strange look on his face, and you couldn’t quite place the emotions he was feeling. “What is it? Do I have something on my face?” You asked, not because you were actually worried about your appearance, more to break the strange atmosphere that was building up.

He quickly shook his head “no no, I was just looking at you… you’d be even prettier if you smiled more sometimes” he stated, and you looked at him, your mouth slightly agape. You tried to hide the forming blush of your cheeks, but you failed miserably. At that he let out a chuckle.

That only made you blush more, the tips of your ears red from embarrassment. “I…” you tried to come back at him with something, but you just couldn’t, he was too handsome in that moment. “Just shut it, would you sushi prince?” It was meant to be a sort of mocking insult, but it came out cuter than you expected.

You saw Percy take a step closer “Sushi prince?” He ask, trying to be serious, but barely managing to hold in a laugh. “Yeah, cause you’re a son of Poseidon, and fish call you prince, and you use fish to make sushi-“ I looked up at him “you know what? Drop it, it wasn’t that great of an insult” You simply concluded.

“No why? No one had ever called me that, it’s… creative, let’s say” he tried. You gave him a look that said ‘really?’ And them the two of you bursted out laughing. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all…

You unintentionally took a step closer to the boy, there had always been something that had attracted you to him in the years, but you denied it behind the excuse that you didn’t like him, but oh boy if you did, liked him. But then something he said pulled you out of your thoughts. The elevator had stopped. Why? You asked yourself. Of course it would have been you.

He looked at you “there’s no need to worry, Annabeth explained me once how these things work, we just have to call in the emergency” he stated calmly as he pressed the yellow button. “Annabeth, huh?”you asked him. You couldn’t quite place what was the strange feeling that you felt in the pitch of your stomach when he named her, but you didn’t like it.

“Yeah, Annabeth” he replied and you just stared at him “you and her are pretty close, aren’t you?” You ask, annoyed. Percy just looked at you, slightly confused. “Well, yeah, but we’re only friends.” He stated, and you could hear in his voice that he was telling the truth. Then why didn’t you believe him? “Oh yeah, just friends, got it” you retorted back, and you cursed yourself for not having held your tongue.

He seemed surprised but then… a sly smirk formed on his lips. “Wait- are you jealous?” He smiled like a little kid on Christmas day. You looked away “No…” but your redness was hard to hide now. “You’re jealous! Oh gods, you’re all red” he laughed, and maybe, but just maybe, his voice wasn’t as annoying as you remembered.

“What if I am?” You then asked him, still leaning on the wall of the elevator. He smiled even more cheekily “No nothing, I just think it’s cute” he said, and leaned closer. You didn’t push him away, yet you didn’t lean in.

“Why do you hate me?” He asked “I don’t hate you” you paused “I just think you are incredibly self-centred sometimes” you admitted. “Oh, thank you” he replied sarcastically with a playful roll of his eyes “Just so you know, I don’t find you self-centred, annoying or anything like that, you’re just impulsive” he stated, and he was standing so close…

You glanced at his lips, because how could you not? You then forced your glance back on his. His usual smirk returned “You wanna kiss me so bad~” he teased and then leaned over the wall, pinning you to the elevator wall, but you weren’t intimidated. “So, what if I do, Jackson?” You asked in anticipation of what was about to come.

“Oh nothing” he answered and leaned closer, your lips just a few inches away “maybe I want too” and then his lips crashed onto yours, and nothing else mattered, it was only the two of you, and you wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything else.

[causenessus]

Meeting Your Eyes. | Bungou Stray Dogs

inc: dazai, chuuya, tecchou (ft. cranky jouno <3), tachihara

written in 2nd pov (female implied!)

song recc: my jinji by sunset rollercoaster

word count: 1492 words

lil scenarios of meeting their eyes <3 chuuya and tachihara get special treatment with lowercase names in theirs bc their just so soft and i love them so much but they're all so sweet !!! i refuse to write dialogue in paragraphs so sorry they're mixed with the headcanons (๑´ ^ `๑) hope u enjoy!! this is my slightly late valentine's day post <33

dazai

tries to meet your eyes the whole day at the agency

peeks above your laptop screen and to the side trying to grab your attention and pouts when you don’t look at him

solely because he wants attention or because he wants to convince you to go somewhere with him

Atsushi has discovered that it’s impossible to communicate with Dazai when he gets like this

the boy can only watch as Dazai progressively gets closer to you, and by the end he’s completely on his desk and leaning over yours <3

“[Y/N]...” he whined, using a hand to move your computer screen back and forth

“yes?” you said, keeping your eyes focused on the wobbling screen

“look at meee, please?” he inched closer to your face, almost breaking your mask

you know as soon as you look at him you won’t be able to say no

he’ll be giving you puppy eyes the entire day, and he knows that if he can get you to look at him, he’ll be able to convince you

“I’m sure Kunikida-kun wouldn’t mind if we went home a little early, can we please?” he continued to beg

you closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to clear your mind, “even if he doesn’t mind–which I think is highly doubtful–I still have work I can get done. so the answer is no. you can hang in there, love.”

your words went through one ear and out the other, “can you say it while looking at me?” he was using a soft, quiet voice that was making it hard to stay strong. if he wasn’t so persuasive, you’d love to look at your boyfriend’s pretty face. it was already hard enough to not look at him even though you knew how convincing he could be

a hand brushed against yours, starting to play with your index finger as Dazai whined your name again.

you opened your eyes as you answered, “no, ‘Samu–” the moment you met eyes with him, your resolve faltered

he had the most adorable expression on his already endearing face that made your heart ache whenever he looked at you like this.

you averted your eyes as you silently closed your laptop, beginning to pack your bag, “...I suppose I could get it done tomorrow. and as long as it’s turned in by its deadline Kunikida-san will be fine with it.”

“oh! my belladonna!” Dazai exclaimed as he practically threw himself onto you, arms wrapped around your neck, “I knew I could convince you. let’s go home,” he gave you an innocent smile, pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling away to gather his own things

chuuya

chuuya meets your eyes from across a corporate party

you’re the only one he can truly feel comfortable around in such a large setting. he feels safer knowing you’re safe when he’s around you and can see you

plus, he’s more than happy to walk around with you. he’s proud to be walking with the beautiful lady who’s turning every head <3 it’s even better because he knows that no matter what, you’re all his

he looks for you the moment he arrives at the party, searching the crowd for your face

he ignores anyone trying to talk to him or offer him something to drink. honestly, he waves everyone away, completely focused on finding you

he pushes past a couple in the crowd and suddenly he’ll see you; your eyes slightly wide and mouth parted as you meet his eyes from afar

as soon as you see him, you’re pushing through the crowd to get to him and he’s doing the same. you never take your eyes off of him, scared to lose him in the crowd again

when you finally meet, it’s like everything was set just for this moment. a beam of light perfectly shines over you both as you meet in the middle

“you look stunning, sweetheart,” he can’t help but say, hands trailing down your sides, resting on your hips

your arms drape across his shoulders and around his neck as you brush noses with him, “so do you, darling.” you both share a smile, continuing to look into his slate colored eyes. “I was looking everywhere for you.”

he can feel his heart start to slow as he relaxes in your hold. “so was I, doll,” as he stares into your eyes, he realizes that all he needs is you.

“say,” he murmurs, eyes lowering to watch his hands as they draw circles on your skin, “I know we just got here, but I just wanna be with you. wanna get out of here?” when he looks back up at you, his eyes are playful

“as long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we go,” you respond, intertwining your hand with his as he starts to lead you through the crowd <3

tecchou

you meet eyes with Tecchou when you look across the table to find him already looking at you

your heart stirs, stricken by those pretty amber eyes, and he hasn’t even processed that you’ve caught him staring

he’s so entranced in you that he only smiles when you meet his eyes, his head resting on a hand

“Hiro, you’re staring again,” you say softly, your cheeks warm a little under his gaze

“I can’t help it, angel. I could stare at you all day and it wouldn’t be enough, you’re just too perfect.” <3

Jouno is most certainly not happy about it

“Tecchou-san, I can hear you ogling [Y/N]-san from here and I really wish you would stop. Please stop breathing while you’re at it,” he scoffs from the other side of the table

(it’s Jouno’s special way of saying he’s happy for you both <3)

probably how you ended up finding out that he liked you

he had never hidden how much he stared at you because he was never ashamed of it

you thought he was so charming when you first met him that you were surprised he would ever take interest in you

“it’s not just that you’re beautiful. it’s just like I can see how pure you are in character. everything around you is brighter, whether I’m looking at you or when I’m with you. it’s been like that ever since I first met you,” he answered when you brought this up the day he confessed

(ear plugs did not save Jouno in the room over who was reaching for a trash can

you try to hold his gaze whenever you meet eyes with him but you’re always the first to look away, face turning red while he only continues to look at you with a lovesick smile <3

tachihara

you’re the person tachihara looks to whenever someone says something worth sharing “a look” for or when someone says something funny

yk like when someone says questionable and you look to someone else like “did they just say that fr?”

that’s tachihara and you <3

whenever jokes are made, he laughs and looks at you to see if you found it funny as well

loves to laugh with you and make you laugh <3

he has a ton of inside jokes with you

for example, radios are heavily used in the mafia so that everyone can communicate

earpieces do their job, but despite the beauty of modern technology sometimes their audio can be so scratchy and incoherent. especially when people get farther away, the audio just gets harder and harder to understand

once, when tachihara took you out on a date and you both were walking around in a store, a worker came on to the intercom to say something but it just sounded like a jumble of fuzz and garbled words.

he nudged you with his shoulder saying, “sounds like hirotsu every time he tries to speak to us during a job.”

you both were crying, holding onto shelves and dying of laughter afterwards <3

and now every time during a job when you hear hirotsu through your ear piece, you both immediately look at each other with mischievous smiles and stifled laughter

even during the most serious of meetings–you both could be standing right in front of Mori and it’s like you guys have a telepathic connection

you both will look at each other simultaneously and share the same thoughts

meeting eyes with him always ends with you both having uncontrollable smiles that automatically spread across your faces <3

along with the knowing looks you two share, there’s so much love and adoration in your eyes for each other

he also knows that if you don’t meet his eyes or if they’re not as lively as usual, something’s wrong and he’s always quick to ask you what he can do to help <3