#I just really love writing these two kissing
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starmocha · 2 days ago
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want me, need me, love me [Sylus/Reader ★ 1510 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] When you had made that plan to sell Sylus, you didn’t realize it would come back to (literally) bite you. A/N: This…was originally just a scenario, but I guess it turned into a ficlet in spite of my self-ban that I wasn’t going to write Sylus fics right now until I finish Bride of the Dragon King. In my defense, it’s only appropriate to post this during the cat banner and I always lie to myself <333 Snuck in some light breeding kink because @yourlocalcatscammer got into my brain and I fear I have already exposed myself enough with my last few fics so why bother hiding this anymore 🥹
It was pretend. Just a little ploy.
You knew it.
Sylus did too.
So how did it end up with you trapped underneath him on a couch, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his voice so hoarse and needy? He wouldn’t stop rubbing his cheek against you, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply.
“Sy-Sylus, what’s gotten into you?” You tried to push him off, but he was too heavy, too unwilling, too…gone. Was it because of the special gene product? It couldn’t have possibly rewired his whole demeanor, could it? You vaguely recalled him attempting to snatch a parrot earlier when, for a brief moment, the feline instinct in him was triggered. You continued to struggle. “Snap out of it!”
“Miss…you really are heartless,” he rasped, nibbling on your earlobe, “Letting another woman have me so casually?”
You flustered, confused. “What are you talking about?” You looked up at him wide-eyed, startled by the darkened gaze that peered down at you. You swallowed slowly, your words careful and measured, as if you were soothing an agitated wild animal, “Sylus…it wasn’t personal…”
He narrowed his eyes. “I know,” he said, his tone terse. His kissed along your shoulder, leaving little love bites along the way. You squirmed, feeling your body heating up under his feverish ministrations. He sighed and grunted softly, his touches growing bolder.
“Say I’m yours,” he mumbled into your neck, desperation laced his deep voice. He nuzzled his cheek against you over and over again, behaving just like a frustrated cat. The warmth of his breath ghosted over your skin, making you shivered as he husked, “Let me be yours.”
Want me.
“Sy-Sylus, snap out of it! What are you—ah…” Your words died at your lips, a gasp escaped. He had pushed your shirt up, your bra unhooked and tossed to the side without a care. Without hesitation, the Onychinus leader took your sweet little nipple into his warm mouth, his tongue swirling leisurely around the sensitive nub, making you arched up, gasping and crying from the sudden electrifying stimulation.
He grinded languidly against you, and as he suckled greedily, he murmured, “…touch me…my…my ears…”
Your mind was hazy, teetering between rationality and the growing lust that was clouding your judgement. You looked down at the head of silvery-white hair against you and the pair of cat ears twitching restlessly atop Sylus’ head. Nimbly, your fingers stroked the sensitive feline ear, feeling the soft tufts of fur between your fingers. He hummed happily, and he sucked harder.
“Ah—!”
His hands reached down to grab your hips, keeping you grounded against the couch. He brushed against you, and you trembled, feeling his bulge over your skirt.
“Sy-Sylus…”
He looked up, the normally haughty expression that graced the feared and notorious Onychinus leader’s face was gone. Right now, he wore a different expression, one that only you were allowed to see. He looked at you lust-filled and wanting, his lips slightly parted, soft sighs escaping. His eyes softened a little, enough for you to notice.
Need me.
You felt a burning ache inside you, one that he had started, and one that you knew only he could quell. Those soft crimson eyes of his beckoned you closer, silently urging you to let go, to submit to the growing heat between the two of you.
Hesitantly, you leaned up, taking his lips for yourself, long and slow. Sylus stilled, surprised, seemingly taking his time to register the moment. When he realized you were answering his silent pleas, he smiled against your lips. His ears flattened back as he kissed you deeper, his hands fumbled with both your clothes.
Your panties slipped off, his pants unzipped, and his hardened member freed from its confines. He nudged his hip forward, the head of his cock pressed against your slick folds. You gasped and gripped his jacket.
“…Take me…” he mumbled lazily, his mouth finding your nipple again. Your other breast was massaged, caressed and shamelessly groped, your sweet, irresistible moans lured out, answered by his own deep, sultry groans as he suckled hungrily.
You whimpered helplessly, giving up on your attempt to resist him. You were aching so much right now, wanting and needing him in a way you had never felt before. Your fingers found their way into his hair, getting lost in the silky strands. “…Y-yes…”
He moved forward and you arched up, crying out. More and more of him eased in, his deep groans were intoxicating, your own desires igniting as he filled you, your walls stretching wonderfully around the massive intrusion. You buried your face into his neck when he bottomed out, gasping into his shoulder as his arm wrapped around you securely. He guided you away from his shoulder and you lay beneath him nearly sobbing in frustration. He looked down at you, flushed cheeks and vulnerable. Again, his warm breath fanned against your mouth as he asked softly, “…Can I…”
“Yes!” You interrupted, your moans tumbling out as he started to move, slowly at first before he built a faster rhythm. Again, you vaguely wondered if he was still lost, still submissive to his feline instincts, because the way he was moving was much more animalistic than you would have expected. It was hurried, graceless, feral, but it was filling you just the way you wanted, the way you needed right now.
Every delicious stroke of his length had you mumbling deliriously, lost in this moment of heavenly pleasure. “Mm…ah…ah…Sy…Sylus…”
His lips found yours again, taking your moans selfishly. He groaned as you clenched around him. “…fuck…Miss…”
You cried out as he spread you more, pushing your legs back, taking you even deeper. “Oh god, oh god…!”
“Mm…breed you…need to breed you…make you mine…m…yours…yours…” He was moving more erratic, his words so frenzied and incoherent, you weren’t sure if he was even registering what he was saying. He was driven purely by a natural need, an instinct so feral, he seemed more animal than man in this moment.
You felt infected by him, by his words, your own traitorous body craving what he was saying. “Ah…yes…yes…ah…breed me…breed me, Sylus…” You weren’t thinking clearly anymore. There wasn’t a single rational thought left in your little head. The only thing you could focus on was his powerful thrusts, reaching you deep where you needed.
“O-oh, Sylus…”
So close. So close, you could feel yourself peaking. Just a little more, almost, almost—
“Mm…Miss…inside…?”
“Yes!” You cried out, your pitch higher than normal, so desperate and needy. He thrusted forward, pushing in even deeper with a heavy groan. His eyes met yours for a moment before you closed yours, screaming out your climax as he coated your walls with his seeds, filling you fuller than you thought was possible.
Distantly, you could hear Sylus mumbling in between his moans.
Love me.
“…mine…yours…yours…”
You panted softly, hearing his own breathing matching your own. You moaned, whimpering as he pulled out, feeling his seed dripping out of your cunt. Slowly, you opened your eyes, seeing Sylus’ flushed face close to yours. He still appeared to be under his feline influence, looking dazed and lost.
Your eyes traveled all over, taking in his satiated expression, seeing the sweats on his glistened skin.
“Ah…oh, I have my lipstick on you.” You touched his lips, seeing red lipstick smeared across. You rubbed your thumb against his mouth, trying to wipe it clean. He stopped you.
He smiled, almost delirious with joy. “Good,” Sylus husked, “You should cover me all over. Mark me as yours.”
Before you could respond, his face was buried in your chest again, his arms tightening around your waist. He nuzzled against you, behaving much more docile now. You rubbed the back of his head for a bit, the soothing act calming him even more. It didn’t take long before you realized he had fallen asleep on top of you. His breathing had slowed, the rhythm steady. He seemed much more relaxed than he was earlier.
You scratched the feline ear atop his head, smiling softly when it twitched in response to your light touch. Sylus instinctively hummed softly in his sleep, pleased.
When he would wake up later, you wondered would he even have remembered what had happened? Would he remember how he had behaved, the words he had spoken? Would he deny it? Make excuses?
You smiled.
You didn’t particularly care. You saw the real him. He would always lower his guard around you, always be transparent about how he felt about you, and now tonight, you realized it wasn’t just that he desired you, but he wanted you to reciprocate as well. Wanted you to be possessive of him, to want and need him in the same way that he felt for you.
To be equally possessive of one another, a mutual obsession with one another.
You almost laughed aloud. Why, what an exquisite idea, you thought to yourself.
You kissed your fingers before pressing them along Sylus’ cheek. He purred softly.
How cute.
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softestqueeen · 2 days ago
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soapy heaven
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pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
summary: taking a lovely shower with your lovely boyfriend aka spencer reid going crazy for you washing his hair
warnings: pure teeth rotting fluff
wordcount: 700 words
a/n: so this is inspire by this post! i loved writing this and i am quite happy with how it turned out. it's not perfect but it's late, i'm tired but happy and i wanted to post it today! so enjoy <3
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„Can I join you?”
“Hm?” Spencer asked from inside the shower, his head peaking out from behind the shower curtain.
“Can I join you?” you repeat.
“In the shower?”
“Yes, of course in the shower, you silly,” you let out a giggle at his expression. Furrowed eyebrows and eyes like a dear caught in headlights.
After a moment he snapped out of it. “Uhm- yea, of course”
You didn’t need more convincing and swiftly shed your clothing. Stepping into the shower with Spencer, he stepped aside so you could get under the warm stream. You could feel the insecurity practically radiating off Spencer, so you made the first stepped and wrapped your arms around him, engulfing him into a warm hug, your arms meeting behind his head. Your boyfriend immediately relaxes into your hold, his hands instinctively wrapping around your waist.
“Well, hello there pretty boy,” you whisper against his lips before finally connecting them and kissing him.
Not wanting this to go further you lean back again, tracing a droplet of water that made its way over his face with your finger. Spencer still had his eyes closed from the kiss, his head now slightly leaning back and enjoying your gentle touches. He would gladly entertain this as long as you kept your hands on him.
He opened his eyes again, leaned forward and placed a short but lingering kiss on your lips. With gentle hands he led you under the stream again, before reaching for his bottle of shampoo. You quickly noticed what he was about to do and interrupted him with a quick wait!
He looked at you, puzzled. “Let me,” you tell him with a smile on your face.
You grab the bottle of shampoo out of the genius’ hand before squeezing a generous amount of it into your hand, softly lathering it up in your hands, before letting them glide though his brown locks.
Spencer couldn’t believe that something so simple, so mundane and casual could be this intimate and could feel oh so good. He couldn’t remember a time where washing his hair felt like something that connected you two, that made him really feel the connection between you.
Your hands felt heavenly in his hair, softly massaging the shampoo into his scalp. Spencer had closed his eyes again, only letting out a sigh in surprise when you start placing soft little kisses all over his wet face, your hands never halting their motion in his hair. He occasionally let out little groans – especially when you slightly pulled on certain strands of his hair – but also didn’t complain when you pull him under the warm spray of the shower to wash out the shampoo.
Still, he was almost sad about the fact that you would have to leave the shower and this perfect moment soon.
Thankfully, you reached for his bottle of conditioner, repeating your little routine or what Spencer strongly hoped would become one. The whole time he felt like he was floating, already in heaven, with your hands in his hair and your lips on his face.
This feeling only intensified when you took his bar of soap and slowly started to lather up his body with the most gentle hands. They wandered over his arms, into his armpits, over his torso, the top of his thighs and after just as gently turning him around also over his back.
Your boyfriend turned around again, and when you pulled him under the water to rinse off the soap, you pressed yourself against him, making him chuckle.
Now, he couldn’t just let your time stop here. He insisted on doing the same thing for you. With quiet whispered instructions and just as many sweet nothings, he managed to follow your hair care routine, definitely taking inspiration from you when he also started leaving kisses on your face.
When it was time to leave his new safe heaven, he wasn’t quite as sad anymore. He only thought about the fact that he got to furl up with you under the comforter now and hold you in his arms again.
And maybe, just maybe, take a shower with you again, tomorrow.  
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a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated! i’d like to write more with criminal minds characters, so if you have any ideas/requests lmk!!
please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueen
requests open! also if you want to be added to my taglist, just reach ou!
taglist: @silvermagnolias@milywatermelon@BigBananaa some other people that interacted with my initial post: @lleomoon @annebirdwhistles @miriamnox @vaaaeeeee @reidrot @nnab @futuremrsreid
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capquinn · 2 days ago
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Hey I love your Dad!Quinn writings so much! They’re so cute and fluffy! Maybe you can do one about mom’s bump popping up one morning and Quinn is like mesmerized, realizes that a baby is coming and his life is going to change. But he’s so happy. Only if you want to write this. Have fun in NYC!
The hoodie slipped from his hands, forgotten, as Quinn froze in the doorway, caught in the quiet spell of the moment. His breath stilled, his gaze fixed on you — on the reflection of you in the mirror, framed by the soft morning light that filtered through the curtains. You were standing there, one hand resting on the curve of your belly, your fingers brushing over it in a way that was both casual and deliberate.
But it wasn’t the same curve he’d kissed goodnight the evening before. This was new, different.
His eyes traced the line of your profile, lingering on the now unmistakable swell of your stomach. It wasn’t just a gentle hint anymore, not the subtle softness he’d grown accustomed to seeing. It was undeniable, defined. A bump.
His bump. His baby.
Quinn’s arms hung at his sides, his hoodie now pooled in the chair behind him as his brain worked to catch up with his eyes. For a long beat, he just stared, unmoving, as the weight of it hit him all at once. His chest tightened, his heart thrumming in a rhythm he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t panic, not fear, but bigger — something that was overwhelming in its tenderness. Awe, maybe. Or reverence. A sense of this is real that felt too massive for his chest to hold.
He tilted his head slightly, as if looking from a different angle might somehow soften the impact, but it didn’t. If anything, it deepened it.
His gaze dropped to your hand, the way your palm smoothed over the firm swell like it was second nature now. He hadn’t realised how much he’d been holding his breath until he let it out, slow and shaky, his hands flexing at his sides. There was no mistaking it anymore — this was real. Tangible. The tiny life that had been nothing but whispers and plans and grainy black-and-white ultrasound images was suddenly here, making its presence known.
You glanced up in the mirror, your eyes catching his reflection, and Quinn’s heart twisted. You looked at him like you always did — a soft affection that grounded him — but now there was something else. Something unspoken, something shared. Something that said, can you believe this?
He stepped closer without even realising, the movement automatic, like gravity was pulling him to you. His hand reached out instinctively, tentative at first, brushing against the curve of your belly before settling there fully. His palm was warm, steady, fingers spreading slightly as if to take it all in. The bump was firm, more defined than he’d expected, and the simple touch made everything feel sharper, clearer.
“This is new,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion, almost as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile intimacy of the moment.
“It wasn’t like this yesterday,” you replied softly, your voice carrying the same quiet awe that was written all over your face.
“No,” he agreed, his thumb sweeping in a slow arc along the edge of your belly. “It wasn’t.”
For the first time, it wasn’t just an abstract thought in the back of his mind. It wasn’t just appointments or plans or future names whispered in the dark. It was right here, under his hand. The tiny, growing life you’d made together, tucked safely between the two of you.
His gaze flicked back up to yours, his eyes soft and bright with something unspoken. Pride, maybe, and then his lips curved into a faint, almost shy smile.
“That’s… really our baby,” he said, the words tumbling out like a confession, as though saying them aloud might help him fully believe it.
“Really our baby,” you echoed, and the way you said it, so soft but so certain, nearly unraveled him.
Quinn’s thumb brushed over your skin again, slower this time, more deliberate, as if tethering himself in the moment. He didn’t let go, didn’t even think about moving. His fingers flexed gently against you, holding on as though the world might tip if he didn’t anchor himself to this — to you.
He exhaled quietly, his voice dropping even lower as his gaze flicked back to your bump.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it,” he murmurs. “To you. To seeing you like this.” His voice caught slightly, and his eyes softened even further as they roamed the swell of your stomach, his hands cradling it like it was the most precious thing in the world.
He couldn’t take his eyes off you — off the way your body had changed, the way it was carrying something that was a part of both of you. It hit him all at once, an overwhelming wave of awe that nearly stole his breath. The guys had joked about this, their faces lighting up in a way that always seemed a little exaggerated when they said there was nothing more attractive than seeing your partner pregnant with your child. He’d brushed it off at the time, but standing here now, he finally understood. You were stunning, and it wasn’t just how you looked — it was what it meant. What you were doing.
He kept those thoughts to himself, too raw and vulnerable to say aloud, but they lingered, stirring in the quiet space between you.
“You’re just so beautiful,” he said instead, the words escaping before he could stop them. He didn’t need to elaborate — everything he felt was in the way he looked at you, his eyes soft, his expression completely open.
The sincerity in his words made your throat tighten, a warmth rising in your chest that had nothing to do with hormones. He saw it immediately — the way your eyes glossed just slightly, your lips pressing together as if to hold back an overflow of emotion. You stared down at the curve of your belly, your hand resting over his, grounding yourself in the moment.
Quinn’s heart clenched at the sight. He hadn’t meant to make you cry, but the way your reaction softened your entire expression made his chest ache in the best way. His fingers flexed gently against your stomach again, his thumb brushing over your skin in a slow, steady rhythm, his way of silently telling you that he was right here.
Your lips parted slightly, like you wanted to say something but weren’t quite ready, and he stayed quiet, giving you the space to find the words.
“It doesn’t feel real, does it?” you whispered finally, your voice carrying a quiet awe that made his breath catch.
He paused for just a moment, watching the way your gaze lingered on your belly, before answering.
“It’s real,” he said, almost to himself, as if to convince the last part of him that still couldn’t quite believe it. His fingers pressed a little more firmly, cradling the swell of your stomach with the same care he might handle something sacred. “It’s us. Right here.”
He could see the ripple of emotion in your expression, the way your chest rose in a deep, steadying breath. The way your hand tightened over his for just a second, like you needed him to hold you in the moment.
When your eyes finally met his, the look you gave him stopped him in his tracks. It was full of wonder, gratitude, and a love so profound it stole the breath from his lungs. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words, couldn’t do anything but hope that you saw everything reflected back in his gaze: the wonder, the love, the quiet, unshakable resolve that whatever came next, he’d be there — every step, every breath. For you. For the tiny life between you. For all of it.
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
requests are open - let’s daydream!
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thebiggerbear · 2 days ago
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This was the very first thing by you that I ever read and I fell in love with it as well as your writing!!! One of my favorite Dean scenes in the later seasons is the dream Sam has with the pizza and pie, and Mary calling him "little piglet...with love". Plus you included the Latin flair on one of my favorite holidays, girl, my heart was bursting at the seams as I read this while also drooling while also slightly jealous of Dean LOL. (you should know as I'm typing this I am daydreaming about the flan, you should just straight up know that LOL)
The rich custardy goodness is calling to him like a siren song.
I am happily being led while pushing Dean out of the way to get to it first. Lovingly of course lol.
“You’d also be 300 pounds,” Sam remarks, taking a sip of his beer. You eye Sam with a frown. But Dean just laughs it off and cuts his little brother a slice.
Not going to lie, I'd be giving Sam a little bit of the stink eye myself. What is so wrong with Dean enjoying himself a little? Besides...give me ALL the flan!!! Sam doesn't know what he's missing.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. His voice is a quiet, deep rumble washing over you. You know what he’s thanking you for: good food, and a small, but warm Christmas.
This made me smile because it is so sweet and so Dean. ❤️
“He ate half his weight in pig,” Sam says. You can’t exactly deny that, but you cross your arms and turn to him, leaning your hip against the counter. “So? It’s Christmas. Let him be happy,” you retort.
Exactly. Let the man enjoy it.
“Even though you guys didn’t have enough money at times, your brother always made sure you were fed,” you explain. You meet Sam’s gaze, squeezing his arm. “Sometimes he went without.” Sam’s expression slowly slackens, contemplative and dismayed at what you’re implying. He dries his hands on a kitchen towel and rubs at his mouth, like he’s reeling back the years of evidence in his mind and trying to confirm if you were right. “You don’t remember?” you gently ask. Sam shakes his head. “I mean, I knew things were tight. I remember him taking care of me, obviously. But…” He doesn’t remember his brother going hungry. It carves a hole of remorse in his chest.
This right here is perfection. It made my heart break for Dean as well as Sam for their childhood, what Dean had to sacrifice at times to take care of Sam, how Sam never realized it before...just so perfectly written and so on point.
You slide into bed next to him and lay your head on his chest. He groans deep and slowly lowers his arms. One of them wraps around your frame.
Okay, this is just beyond sweet. Literally made me
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Moments like this are worth melting for. 😉 (seriously though, I'm pretty sure I have to call someone to get the wetvac to get me up off of the floor)
The whole ending scene just makes my heart glad, especially with her offering to go for a walk with Dean, most likely keeping in mind what Sam said (while Sam is keeping what she said in mind - like I said, perfection!) , but I especially loved the ending sequence right here:
Dean makes a sound of mild interest in the idea. “I guess, if you like stringy trees and frozen lakes.” It’s winter in Lebanon. Not much to look at. You smirk and press a kiss to his chest. “I mean, that, and you in some little Richard Simmons shorts.” Dean gives you a look, and you giggle so hard it shakes your whole body against him. “Honestly, I think that’ll really do it for me,” you tease. You walk two fingers across his thigh, where a cute pair of ‘80s-style exercise shorts would cut off. Dean grabs your hand and rolls you over, pinning you underneath him on the bed. His thigh slips between both of yours, causing friction against your jeans. And he smirks down at you. “Sweetheart, I don’t do shorts.”
Oh, Dean, nice try. We all know you do. 😉
This was just beyond sweet and it was something I very much needed back when I read through it the first time. (I'm sorry I didn't leave feedback until now! I'm trying to be better about that these days) I love the way you write the Winchesters and this one shot cemented you as one of my favorite writers I've come across in this fandom (as well as a few others 😉).
I definitely cannot wait to dive into the Midnight Espresso verse and get more of these two. You did a beautiful job here, lovely!!! Well done!!! 😊💖💖
Get Stuffed
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader
Summary: Dean enjoys the way you cook Christmas dinner with a Latin flair, even if Sam likes to tease him about his insatiable appetite. You remind Sam about the true reason behind one of Dean’s biggest quirks.
AN: This was requested by my lovely friend @iprobablyshipit91: Sam making the usual digs at Dean about his diet, and how much he eats, and the reader pulling him aside and telling him to back off as he doesn’t realize how much Dean went hungry as a kid to make sure Sam was fed.
Word Count: 1,800 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, innuendo, tinge of angst
**This story can be read as stand-alone, but you can also check out the full masterlist of one-shots below. ⤵️
☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist
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“Aw, hell yeah,” Dean mutters. He rubs his hands together and surveys the immovable feast that’s about to get shoveled into his mouth.
This Christmas marks roughly your first year living with the brothers Winchester in the bunker, and a few months after your first anniversary with Dean.
He’s made it very clear that he enjoys your cooking, especially of Cuban food. So you’ve gone all out for Christmas: white rice and your grandmother’s recipe for black beans, boiled yuca with plenty of garlic, bread drizzled with more garlic and olive oil, and Dean’s favorite…
“What’s this part of the pig called again?” he asks. And he uses a large fork to spear into the mountain of roasted meat that you’ve already cut and piled onto a platter.
You come in from the kitchen with the bread in hand, placing it on the dinner table. You sidle up behind him, where he's seated.
“The shoulder,” you say, squeezing both of Dean’s. He hums in interest as you press a kiss to the side of his head. “It’s called pernil. Marinated with garlic, mojo, bunch of good stuff.”
He predictably steals a juicy piece of meat, plopping it into his mouth. He grins while he chews and makes a happy sound.
“Ohoho, yeah.”
You share an amused look with Sam, who sits beside his brother. By the time you’ve found your seat on Dean’s other side, he’s already serving you and Sam the same hefty portions he serves himself.
You know for a fact you’re only going to eat about half of your plate. Sam manages to polish his off. Dean does as well…and serves himself twice more before you break out the dessert.
“Please tell me that’s a flan,” Dean says, drumming his fingers on the table.
“How the hell are you still hungry?” Sam asks.
The look on his face says he’s half entertained, half disgusted. Dean is still sucking on the crispy skin on a piece of pork. He licks the juices off his fingers.
“Have I taught you nothing?” he says. “There’s always room for dessert.”
He tosses you a wink, followed closely by a suggestive smirk. You glance at him with a smile as you set down the metal pan.
“It is a flan,” you affirm. “I tried my hand at coconut this time.”
“Ooh, tropical,” Dean says, waggling greasy fingers. He wipes them on a napkin before he reaches for the pie cutter, which is usually reserved for his favorite dessert. Although, flan is rapidly becoming his second go-to. The rich custardy goodness is calling to him like a siren song.
“How can I get you to make this more often?” Dean mutters while carving out a generous slice.
Your lips curve. You rest your chin on your hand and lean towards him, earning his gaze. “If I made it all the time, you wouldn’t savor it, now would you?”
Dean smirks. His gaze lowers to your lips, like he’s contemplating some persuasive maneuvers.
“You’d also be 300 pounds,” Sam remarks, taking a sip of his beer.
You eye Sam with a frown. But Dean just laughs it off and cuts his little brother a slice.
By the end of the meal, all three of you are stuffed. Dean groans and leans back in his seat. A gurgle mounts audibly from his stomach.
“Jesus. Are you erupting?” Sam says.
Dean holds up a finger. “Wait for it.”
You give your boyfriend a bemused look. You know exactly what’s about to happen. As does Sam, who’s grimacing.
A few seconds later, Dean does erupt, with a truly legendary belch.
“Nice,” you say wryly. Dean squeezes your soft, thick thigh and backs his chair away from the table.
“Well, since I roasted the pig and you did the rest, I’d say it’s Sammy’s turn on cleaning duty,” he says.
“Thanks,” Sam says, with a wan smile. Yours is more jovial, even as Dean’s hand toys with a curl of your hair after he stands.
“I’m gonna shower off the meat sweats,” he says.
You giggle, but you nod. “You do that. I’ll help Sam a bit, put away the food at least.”
Your smile becomes more genuine when Dean drops a kiss on your forehead from above.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. His voice is a quiet, deep rumble washing over you. You know what he’s thanking you for: good food, and a small, but warm Christmas.
You reach up and give his cheek a tender touch, before he withdraws and makes his way to the bedroom he shares with you. It leaves you and Sam to collect what’s on the table and bring it all into the kitchen. While Sam does the dishes, you start to put away the leftovers.
Something has been nagging at you all night, though you’ve tried to stamp it down time and time again. You don’t know if it's your place to say something. Especially if Dean doesn’t seem bothered…but it bothers you. And you’ve never been one to hold your tongue.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” you begin, even as a small bit of trepidation niggles inside you.
Sam looks over at you. He’s quick to catch the serious note in your demeanor.
“Yeah, what’s up?” he replies. You okay? his eyes also ask.
“Why do you get on Dean so much for enjoying his food?” you ask.
Sam blinks. Then he scoffs a little. “There’s enjoying, and then there’s gluttony.”
“He’s not that bad,” you argue.
“He ate half his weight in pig,” Sam says. You can’t exactly deny that, but you cross your arms and turn to him, leaning your hip against the counter.
“So? It’s Christmas. Let him be happy,” you retort.
Sam levels you with pinched brows. “He’s not in his 20s anymore. All that crap he eats is going to catch up to him someday.”
“What, you expect him to down some kale smoothies?” you reply, giving a pointed brow raise and a teasing smile. “Get up at the crack of dawn for a bare-chested run?”
Sam shoots you a dry look.  
“My point is, I’m not gonna survive hundreds of monster attacks just to get taken down by cholesterol,” he says.
You sigh a raise a placating hand. “All right. I get what you’re saying. I’m just saying…have you ever thought about why he loves food so much? Why he overindulges sometimes?”
Sam's brow quirks. It’s a question you know you need to tread lightly in order to answer. You uncross your arms to lay a hand on Sam’s wrist. He stops washing dishes and turns off the sink to give you his full attention, sensing your shift.
You look up at him, and you steel yourself.
“He might’ve mentioned once…that you two sometimes had a hard time growing up. With John taking you guys from motel to motel while he was working a job, and every now and then, leaving you guys alone longer than he meant to.”
Dean had been more than a bit drunk when you’d gotten this out of him. Hearing about that aspect of his upbringing had upset you, not just as someone who cared about him, but the caretaker in you smarted.
“Even though you guys didn’t have enough money at times, your brother always made sure you were fed,” you explain. You meet Sam’s gaze, squeezing his arm. “Sometimes he went without.”
Sam’s expression slowly slackens, contemplative and dismayed at what you’re implying. He dries his hands on a kitchen towel and rubs at his mouth, like he’s reeling back the years of evidence in his mind and trying to confirm if you were right.
“You don’t remember?” you gently ask.
Sam shakes his head. “I mean, I knew things were tight. I remember him taking care of me, obviously. But…”
He doesn’t remember his brother going hungry.
It carves a hole of remorse in his chest.
This isn’t the first time he’s had to reexamine Dean’s role in his life, and not the first time he’s felt this flavor of guilt. But he sighs and really doesn’t know what to say.
You seem to realize that, and you squeeze his arm one last time.
“Just keep that in mind,” you implore.
You soon leave him to venture upstairs, but there in the kitchen, Sam makes a resolution before the new year. One that includes having a conversation with his brother.
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You find Dean in your bedroom. Now in his most threadbare sweatpants and an old black shirt, he lays over the covers on the bed. His eyes are closed and his arms are folded behind his head, but he hears you when you come in.
You slide into bed next to him and lay your head on his chest. He groans deep and slowly lowers his arms. One of them wraps around your frame.
“Think I overdid it a bit,” he admits, cracking his eyes open. You smile and gently pat his stomach. 
“Wanna go for a walk tomorrow?” you ask. “We can go down to the park.”
Dean raises a brow at you. “You hate walking.”
“Not true,” you shake your head, before you rest more comfortably against him. He tucks you in beside him and begins to run his fingers down your arm. It’s a bit distracting.
“Could be nice, with the right view,” you add, though you shiver a little at his touch.
Dean makes a sound of mild interest in the idea. “I guess, if you like stringy trees and frozen lakes.”
It’s winter in Lebanon. Not much to look at.
You smirk and press a kiss to his chest. “I mean, that, and you in some little Richard Simmons shorts.”
Dean gives you a look, and you giggle so hard it shakes your whole body against him.
“Honestly, I think that’ll really do it for me,” you tease. You walk two fingers across his thigh, where a cute pair of ‘80s-style exercise shorts would cut off.
Dean grabs your hand and rolls you over, pinning you underneath him on the bed. His thigh slips between both of yours, causing friction against your jeans. And he smirks down at you.
“Sweetheart, I don’t do shorts.”
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AN: 😂 A little callback to S1 at the end there. I hope you guys liked this! Just in time to prepare for my Christmas cooking! ❤️💚
Keep Reading:
Next up in this series is "A Wish to Build a Dream On":
Summary: Dean has been harboring the archangel Michael in his mind for weeks now, putting a strain on your relationship as you struggle to help him. When Dean makes a wish that accidentally brings his father back from the dead, you get to meet the (in)famous John Winchester. But as always with magic, your boyfriend’s wish has unintended consequences.
▶️ Next Story: A Wish to Build a Dream On
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lovieku · 9 hours ago
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HANDS ON ME ⋆ 정국
𐙚 if you like what you see, baby put your hands on me.
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it’s about to look like jeongguk’s birthday everyday with you.
based on this ask
from the grande series ୨ৎ
pairing: nerd!jk x popular!fem reader
genre: smut
warnings: lower case intended, jk is inexperienced and sooo whipped, it’s his birthday!!! and he’s getting it hhhh, lowk dom!oc x sub!jk, size kink, tit play, dry humping, brief coochie play, cum eating omfg, blow job, cutest babies ever
word count: 3.9k
a/n: first thing i saw this morning was that ask, so of course i had to write this. like THANK U ANON that was such a good idea yes yes yes. hope u enjoy 🩷🩷
🏷️ perm taglist: @ceellliiinee @jaytheatiny @dolligguk @luvismenu @theyloveyams @stillwjk-channie-lixie @bookstoread199 @girlygguk @vieviela @myngiii @angelxkoo @nnybtitts08 @mpbrinkss @https-mei @lyywst @mhdelu @apobangpogirlyyy @khadeeeeej @awrkive @nooooooooonnneeeeeee @vantelover1306
────୨ৎ────
jeongguk didn’t wish for his birthday party to look like this.
the second he casually mentioned that his parents would be out of town on the very same day he would turn 21, his small friend group (consisting of the two nerdiest guys in college, probably even battling him for the top spot) took it on them to turn what he imagined would be a calm, quiet night spent with the comfort of jimin and taehyung in front of video games into a contending rival of a literal frat party. in his own house. when he never approved of it, nor asked for it.
there’s an inestimable amount of faces he has never seen before this moment, but they all seem to know him, congratulating him every time he comes in their vision. then, they go back to drinking, kissing, soft-fucking on his couch, and seemingly pumping up the volume of the music more and more with each blasting and ungraceful song.
that is probably why he’s struggling a bit more than he usually does with breathing. he’s a huge germaphobe, and having all these strangers barge into his space and lean on every possible surface with their greasy, alcohol stained hands has him close to hyperventilating.
he still hasn’t figured out how his two friends did it, but they managed to involve what looked like the whole uni into coming at jeongguk’s 21st birthday party like it was an unmissable event. it truly did seem like one, though, the birthday boy looking around in a confused awe and realizing this is all he’s ever missed from his teenage years. meh. not all that.
what really got him struggling to breathe is you. you, the most popular girl in college, talks about you on the mouths of all guys and girls in the hallways, loved yet envied by every single one of them, are here. and when you greeted him, you did so with a kiss for each of his cheeks. he stood there like he truly was going to let his lungs stop working, and you just smiled up at him through your long lashes and big eyes.
you’re not popular for the cliché reasons a girl in college might be. you’re not mean, you don’t square uncool people from head to toe with a judging look, you’re not known to be scary and unapproachable. the reason why you’re surrounded by a devoted swarm of bees is because you’re the literal definition of an angel.
an angel always ready to help anyone who seems like struggling, flash them with pearly whites, and be impossible to resist with bug, wide eyes conveying all your most honest emotions.
you’re known for genuine reasons. he’s never even heard many rumors about you, and if he did he assumed it was coming from way too envious people. the only thing he allowed himself to believe about your privacy, is that you’re very caring in bed.
he won’t admit it, feels disgusting for it, but he’s touched himself to that thought a couple of times. maybe more.
it doesn’t matter now, because you’re closer to him than you’ve ever been, and you sit in the overwhelming circle that has formed on the floor of his living room, people he has never even talked to proposing games and pushing drinks into his hand since he’s now 21.
unlike most people, that number doesn’t mean a lot to him. he’s not that thrilled about the knowledge that he can now get his hands on anything that was previously denied to him, alcohol and substances of those sorts. he never liked them, and he doesn’t think he will just because of this newfound freedom.
he’s now getting the full experience when someone, sharp-eyed and drunk on audacity, spots the wooden door to his dad’s wine cellar left slightly ajar and suggests seven minutes in heaven with the kind of enthusiasm jeongguk imagines newton felt when that apple hit his head.
on his right, jimin panics for jeongguk, “you’re not going to fuck in mr. jeon’s wine cellar.”
“who said anything about fucking?” dahye, a friend of yours, the complete opposite of you with a mean aura and sliced eyes, intervenes and has everyone laughing.
jimin rolls his eyes and plops down from where he straightened up on his knees, and jeongguk stays silent. he gave up fighting long ago, when the first drink spilled on his carpet.
he just gives a tight-lipped smile when his blonde friend tries an apologetic look, shaking his head and studying the room. jeongguk gulps when his eyes inevitably fall on yours, and he finds you already staring, an intensity he hasn’t seen often. when he’s sure he’s perfectly resembling a deer caught in headlights, you tilt your head amusedly, and he hastily focuses back down on his lap.
“well, since jimin is so afraid we’re gonna break his boyfriend’s stuff,” dahye continues, feeding off the childish chuckles coming from around her, and maybe also off jimin’s annoyed glare, “why don’t we let the birthday boy go first?”
at that, jeongguk’s head snaps up, his fluffy hair bouncing with the sudden movement, and he looks around wide eyed. he’s not sure what the game entails, he just knows something is supposed to happen, but he’s not sure exactly what the people hungrily gawking at him are expecting.
taehyung is about to add something when dahye interrupts once again, resting her hand on your lap beside her, “he can go with ___. i know that would make his day.”
sitting at her left, you’re the only one who doesn’t laugh at the sneaky implication; instead, you glare at your friend, who shrugs in response.
both jimin and taehyung fall in total silence, their eyes alarmingly looking at their friend in the middle. jeongguk seems a hundred times more panicked, but not because of the same reasons.
while his two best friends are simply excited at the prospect of jeongguk’s every dream coming true, eagerly expecting a positive answer from his mouth, jeongguk’s whole focus is on you, and your seemingly impassive face. his mind spins with haunting worries, giving at least twenty different interpretations to the way you’re looking at him, brows subtly twitching up.
he clumsily parts his lips to say something, but with absolutely no senseful thought swarming his brain, nothing comes out.
a beat of anticipated silence goes by before you gracefully stand up, all eyes following you, and even if quiet, your voice goes through the music, “let’s go, gguk.”
jeongguk loudly gulps, and he hopes the sound isn’t heard, but he doubts it since he’s receiving a scary amount of attention that goes over what he’s received his whole life.
if it wasn’t for the two guys at his sides pushing him to stand up, he would have stayed with his ass perched to the floor. instead, he stumbles and almost trips, meeting your eyes with awkward shame as you just softly smile at his gawkiness.
you don’t wait for him, daintily walking to the room victim of the game, pushing the door open and curiously peeking inside. jeongguk hastily jumps over the people sitting on the ground, still quietly observing the scene, and he’s at your side way faster than the time it took for him to even realize what was about to happen.
he exhales loudly at the proximity, standing behind you and basking in the height difference, your head barely reaching his chest, and he thinks he truly sees heaven when you turn around to look up at him, grinning delicately as you tilt your head back, “wanna go in?”
jeongguk is sure he has lost the capability to speak. no matter the sounds he tries to force up his throat, they’re not strong enough to fight their way out. he simply closes the door behind the two of you, and he’s glad when it significantly helps drown out the loud music and drunkish chatter.
he’s less glad for it when it means he’s officially left alone with you in a relatively cramped space, the silence almost more suffocating than the room and its strong smell. but he’s convinced you must be an angel when you don’t complain, not even slightly, your face the expression of composure.
he stands in the middle of the cellar while you explore it in a circle, letting your heels click on the parquet floor and your fingers carefully brush the wine bottles.
the simple action makes him feel hot, naughty mind conjuring up images of you tracing his skin with such care, and he releases a shaky breath before you can stop him, blurting his messy thoughts out, “we— we don’t have— have to do anyt—”
“sit on that stool, gguk.”
the command is anything but harsh, your voice a soft melody of calmness, but it still startles him. no, it shakes something in his chest, traveling all the way down to where he’s starting to feel a strong urge.
you point to a wooden stool in the corner of the room, which doesn’t look too high, but when he obediently goes to sit on it with his knees wobbling, you promptly place yourself in front of him and grin at the way he’s still almost at face level with you, his forehead reaching only a little under your chin.
his huge proportions compared to yours have always managed to make your head spin and thighs squeeze together whenever you managed to sit next to him in the few lectures you shared, lashes fluttering seductively to have him fix nonexistent bugs on your computer just to see his wide hand close to yours on the keyboard.
now, with his puppy eyes staring up at you expectantly, his drawn up brows only emphasizing his yearning, you need to steady yourself with hands on his shoulder to hold back from quite literally grinding on him. you whisper, “good.”
his orbs shake impossibly more, and from the corner of your eye you see his fingers fidgeting in his lap, fighting a delirious need. his legs are spread just enough for you to be standing right in the middle of them, but you push yourself further into him, his chin lifting up even higher to never be forced to look away from your firm gaze, hanging from your lips when you voice an apology, “i didn’t bring a gift, ggukkie.”
jeongguk is almost panting, the endearing nicknames only adding to the warmth of your sweet body, your vanilla scent clouding his senses and gouging the truth out of him, “th—that’s okay, ___. i—i’m very happy you’re here.”
you smile, but it’s one he’s never seen on you. it’s not one of those you flash when you’re grateful, understanding, or even amused. it’s mischievous, almost belittling. “are you saying i’m your gift?”
his eyes widen, and he’s ashamed of the way your accusative tone causes him to throb in his jeans, and in his speech too, “huh— oh my god. i’m so sorry. that must sound so—”
you chuckle, stroking his broad back with your hands sliding across his width, “hey, slow down. it sounds so very cute coming from your lips.”
jeongguk appreciates your efforts at trying to put him at ease, truly. but your soothing touch and words only have him in a state of alert, even more when your fingers travel up his nape and find home in his locks. you’re impossibly close now, and he feels your voice resounding within him, “but i’m still not satisfied. i wanna give you more, make you forgive me.”
your whisper fans over his lips, and he unconsciously parts them for you, his eyes hooded by the second and glassed over with desperate want. you smirk.
stepping back enough for his neck to rest at a comfortable angle, he whimpers deliciously at the loss of your touch, but you shut him up just as quickly when your dress is off you and on the wooden floor in a swift motion.
jeongguk is definitely panting now, breathing manually and focusing too much on having his heart pump oxygen for him rather than the view of your exposed body in front of him.
he gradually realizes he could care less about dying right now if it means the last thing he’s going to be faced with is your nipples hardening with the cool, and hopefully something else, and your lacy white panties barely covering your core.
jeongguk stares like a starved man being met with his first meal after weeks of seeking, his hands trembling on his thighs and squeezing into suppressing fists.
his gasp turns into an awfully high-pitched moan when you hook a finger under the hem of your lingerie, sliding it daintily down your legs and walking out of it, never breaking eye contact with him. only thing you’re left with are your high heeled boots.
the next thing you do has the organs that keep all his vital functions going completely stop working, his heart missing more than ten beats and catching up with an alarmingly fast speed, causing his voice to shake, “___, wh—what are you—”
swinging one of your legs, you sit on him with your ingloriously stained panties pressing right on his crotch, hands placed back on the base of his neck, basking in the way you can feel his rapid beating under your fingers.
you lean into his ear, “if you like what you see, you can put your hands on me, baby.”
jeongguk throws his head back for air, his chest heaving with trembling exhales before he finds your eyes again, and in the fraction of second he needed to look elsewhere if he didn’t want to bust in his tight pants already, you’re a whole different person.
your eyes are sliced, pupils blown and hooded, and your parted lips stretch just enough to paint a wicked smirk over your face, its effects flooding right down his stomach and making you feel his hardness through the material.
his hands dance a panicked rhythm hovering over your sides, not sure what to do, not deeming himself deserving of feeling your skin under his touch. but you take it upon yourself to guide them, pressing his palms against your hips and letting them ride up your exposed breasts.
he whimpers, fingertips unconsciously testing the sense of the soft curve of your boobs with a subtle press, but it’s not enough. you can’t feel him.
with your hands still on his, you arch yourself further into his touch and have his thumbs slice over your sensitive nubs, letting out a moan of your own that goes over his low groan. you lick your lips and struggle to find your breath and words too, but you whisper them through an already too fucked out smile, “see? you can touch me, just like that.”
the go-ahead is all he needs for him to dive his head right into your chest, his tongue catching your nipple in an unpracticed hunger, messily sucking on it and quickly leaving your skin soaked with spit. he works clumsily with his hand on your other tit, movements uncoordinated and unsure.
but the fact that he seems to not care about his inexperience, willing to learn right at this moment all it takes for you to keep whimpering and trembling when he touches, has your usually composed senses lost in a haze of desire, the need to give your all to the nerdy boy that is finally being properly touched just as he turns 21 clouding your senses and pushing you to unconsciously buck your hips against his.
he moans with his mouth full of you, his free hand gripping your thigh, and he tries to stop it but he can’t help the way he meets your grinding, snapping up as if he lost all sort of control over his body. he quite literally wails in desperation, “fuck— don’t— don’t do that. i’m gonna— oh, god.”
“you’re gonna cum?” you sound just as crazed, hips rutting at a faster speed on him, the slickness smearing all over his jeans and leaving a wet patch right where his dick stays confined.
“no! i— i mean, just give me a second, shit. i swear, i—”
“ggukkie, this is about you. i’ll make you cum, hm? how’s that sound?” the sweet sound of your promise has him seeing stars, eyes squeezing shut as he feels himself getting close to a point he doesn’t think he’s ever reached before.
until he’s back to zero.
you lift your hips off his, helping your weight up by placing your hands on his broad shoulders, and you sport a devilish smile when he opens his eyes again, protest ready on his tongue. his brows are furrowed and there’s tears ready to spill out from his eyelids, but you don’t let them.
the huge palm that was still fondling your breast is now being led by you further down, until it disappears between you. you have him cup your wet core, the intensity of the moment only heightened by your gaze never leaving his, “touch me.”
when panic flashes over his expression once again, you instruct him through it just how you did minutes before, and he quickly gets the hang of it. you always appreciated him being a fast learner, but you couldn’t imagine that it would come handy in a scenario like this one.
you hum when his ring and middle finger trace your slit, only to come up to try and find your clit in a surprisingly good attempt, “good, get all of it. make your hand wet.”
the moment squelching sounds reach your ears, you leave your seat from his lap and stand on your heels again. he whines, unknowingly reaching for you, but you halt his hand and redirect it on the zipper of his jeans. you tilt your chin, “take them off.”
he’s quicker than he was at the beginning of his seven minutes in heaven now, freeing himself from the tight pants, boxers going along with it, and his cock springs free deliciously, standing tall and proud against his tummy.
you groan, almost already falling to your knees like you are planning to do soon. it’s an adjective you don’t think you’ve ever used on any of the guys you’ve been with, but jeongguk’s cock is pretty. its pink tip matches his lips, swollen from the harsh biting, and it doesn’t look rough. it has just the perfect length, girth, and when it twitches under your awe, you see it bend subtly to the right.
you smile, meeting his face again, delirious need written all over it, “stroke your cock with the hand you touched me with,” the second the order is out your lips, he’s already working himself. you can see him trying to go at a merciful speed, his grip loose, and it makes you grin amusedly, “mh, aren’t you so obedient. let me have a taste, gguk.”
you clearly have noticed that he’s not as quick on his feet as he usually is, brain clouded, so you once again take it upon yourself to lead his hand, this time introducing two of his fingers in your warm mouth. you hum loudly around the thick digits, eyes rolling back, and you speak around them, “fuck, you wanna try that?”
you don’t wait for him to reply, knowing it would get him minutes that you sadly don’t have to formulate a senseful answer, and you simply feed him his own fingers, carefully watching the way he lets his cheek hollow around them. you chuckle feverishly, “we taste so good together, don’t we?”
he nods eagerly, eyes glassy with more tears, and you think you can see one drop at the side of his face just as you fall to your knees in front of his seated body, your pretty figure even smaller from his view, and he’s graced with your bug eyes staring up at him through long lashes.
you don’t waste any more time, knowing there’s not much left in the heaven you’ve created for your own, and you wrap your ravenous mouth around him, showing none of the previous mercy in your speed.
he lets his mouth hang open, moans uncontrollably loud, and he needs to grab the sides of his stool to get the illusion of some sort of power still left within him. he closes his eyes in bliss, but quickly snaps them open when he realizes what he’s missing.
you’re bobbing your head up and down his length, and you still manage to maintain that dainty elegance that characterizes you, slim fingers gripping around the base and making up for the spots you can’t reach. he pants on the verge of a heart attack, pitch high as he begs, “fuck. look— look up at me, please.”
you do, aligning yourself better to meet his frenzied state, eyes communicating all the words you can’t say, too engaged in having him unravel all over your lips. he groans at the eye contact, thinking back to all the times he’s seen this exact scene flash behind his closed eyelids, and he’s a fool for even believing his mere imagination could compare.
it will never be enough, never again. not after this. not after knowing what you look like as you devote yourself to him, precise movements getting him closer, the way your tongue flickers out to reach down further and how you let his tip meet the back of your throat finally causing him to snap his hips up involuntarily, and before he can say something to warn you, he’s painting your warm mouth with his cum.
ropes of white, hot liquid spill out from you, but you promptly collect all of it, making sure not a single drop is missed, gulping it down with eager want. you wordlessly smile up at him, infatuated with the way his chest heaves and his lips part, trying to regain some composure.
he thinks he will need hours to fully recover. and he’s not even sure he wants this moment to end, blurting his predominant thought out before he knows it, “i wanna make you feel good, too.”
you chuckle as you get up, quickly soothing your knees before collecting your panties from the ground and walking back inside them, “it’s okay, baby. this was my birthday gift for you, hm? besides, we don’t have much time left before the others come in.”
“but…”
jeongguk helplessly watches as you get dressed, cringing at the stickiness of your wet core but nonetheless slipping your flowy dress back on. he just had the best orgasm of his life from the girl he firmly believes to be the love of his life, and he doesn’t get to give it back. oh, he feels like an absolute asshole.
you seem to read it all simply by scanning his face fondly, words soft, “that doesn’t mean you won’t get to do that, you cute boy. you will, and soon.”
when you’re done fixing the creases over your clothes, you walk to him and help him back in his jeans. tucking his softening length in, you lift up the zip of his pants and you’re glad for the way the patch of your wetness seems to have dried.
standing between his spread legs, you brush a hand through his hair, tenderly watching the way his curls fall and tickle his forehead. you smile and whisper quietly, “i got your number from dahye. i’ll text you, okay?”
he gulps, nodding hastily at your rhetorical question and feeling the blush creep up his neck. god, he must look like a total fool, “o—okay…”
humming lowly, you press your lips to his cheek, then to the tip of his nose, “you’re so pretty, you know that? don’t be sad.” next, your mouth rests on his, molding in a kiss that has his eyes shooting wide, and that ends way before he can even realize what’s happening. you chuckle at his expression, and you can’t resist another peck before promising, “happy birthday, gguk.”
152 notes · View notes
bronzeyslcve · 8 hours ago
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take charge - lucy bronze
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pairing: lucy bronze x female reader
theme: smut
warnings: smut, minors dni, fingering, strap-on use, oral sex, praise kink, gag use, orgasm control, submissive lucy, pet names, use of y/n, aftercare
summary: lucy has always been the dominant one out of the two of you throughout your entire five year relationship. when leah tears her acl, Sarina gives you the armband for the World Cup. Something about you in the armband turns lucy on and suddenly, she wants you to take control in the bedroom…
notes: based on this request, thank you sm anon! whilst writing this, half of it didn’t save so i had to rewrite most of the match part so sorry if it’s really bad <3
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It was heartbreaking watching Leah tear her ACL, the three letters confirming to you and all of your England teammates that your captain would miss the World Cup. You had no idea who Sarina would give the armband to, you thought Millie would receive it, or even Lucy, she deserved it more than most in your definite non-biased opinion. But Sarina had other plans. You were announced as the captain for the World Cup. Naturally, you were honoured to not only represent your country but to know hopefully captain them to a World Cup win, it was a childhood dream come true and Lucy couldn’t have been prouder of you.
So far, you had lead the team through the group stages, having won all three matches and you couldn’t be happier. You had noticed a slight change in Lucy ever since your first game against Haiti, but you put it down to just tournament nerves. Not knowing what was really going through her head. Having no clue that seeing you lead all the girls on the pitch, wearing that armband and being much more commanding and even more confident then you normally are, has been doing things to her.
All this week, you had been preparing for the game against Nigeria. You weren’t stupid, you knew it was going to be tough. They’re physical. Way more physical than the Lionesses but you were all ready. Or that’s what you thought. You played in the left-wing back position, which allowed you to cover the back and push up a little, which you loved doing. You had a good link up going with Georgia but Nigeria were quick to break it, quick to have you marked down and so you could do nothing, not really, except for telling your girls what to do.
Rarely, anger was never an emotion you dealt with on the pitch. You never got angry, not really, the last time you had it was the champions league final back in 2020 for an unjust foul committed on you that should’ve been a penalty, but it wasn’t awarded. However, watching you get awarded a penalty in the 31st minute and then having it taken off of you in the 34th just really pissed you off. You thought it should’ve stood. But it didn’t. When you’re angry on the pitch, you get a touch more aggressive, more loud and much more pissed if things don’t go your way. And that’s exactly what starts to happen.
The last minutes of the first half are basically just filled with you shouting at the girls, telling them what to do, putting challenges in on the Nigerian players, but still being careful to not get carded for them. When you come off for half time, Lucy is the first one over to you, putting her arm around your waist, whilst you two walk back through the tunnel. All of the fans knew about your relationship, I mean the pair of you never made any effort to hide it, meaning you could be more open with some of your affections.
“That should’ve been a fucking penalty,” you huff, as you walk towards the changing rooms, Lucy’s arm never leaving its position of being wrapped around your waist.
“I know baby, I know. Don’t threat about it though, we’ll be okay, we have you, you’re playing exceptional as always,” Lucy reassured you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, ignoring the feelings stirring inside of her from watching you get angry on the pitch. From wearing that armband. You have absolutely no clue how much you’re turning her on.
“Luce, I’ve hardly done anything,” you sigh softly as you make your way through the changing room and sit down at your cubby, which is conveniently next to your girlfriends.
“Yes you have. The passes that you have managed to make have been perfect, you’ve kept the left locked down and you’ve been commanding us really well.”
You smile softly at her and she presses a gentle peck to your lips before whispering against them lowly, “It’s very hot actually,” before she leaves to use the toilet to adjust herself.
Sarina gives her usual half time speech, telling you all on how to improve, then about ten minutes later you’re all back on the pitch. The knowledge that Lucy finds how you’re carrying yourself on the pitch hot, sends sparks flying through you. You weren’t thinking about that, not at all, but now, it’s in the back of your mind and you can’t help but want to impress her just a little more.
By the 83rd minute, most of the girls are tired. Nigeria’s physicality is just knackering the entire team. Sarina still hasn’t made any changes and it’s annoying you a little bit, your team are tired, substitutions need to be made. That’s why it doesn’t surprise you as much when frustrations get the better of Lauren James. Sure, her stamp on Alozie was completely unnecessary, but you understand why she did it. You’re frustrated too, however you have the maturity, which Lauren lacks and needs to work on, to time your tackles right, to not foul a player as said tackles you have committed have all been completely legal. Yes your frustrations did get the better of you in the 73rd minute leading to you getting a yellow card, but that was only for talking back to the ref, who you now had down as being a wanker, you didn’t like her. You knew the red card was coming to Lauren, a blind idiot would know, but that still doesn’t mean it didn’t hit the team hard. Being forced to drop to ten whilst you’re already struggling isn’t really an ideal situation.
The last eight minutes were utter hell for England. Scrappy, sloppy, whatever the commentators want to call it. You are extremely lucky to be going into extra time and not home. There were multiple shots from Nigeria that could’ve gone in but didn’t.
When the first fifteen minutes of extra time roll around after the short break, Nigeria’s tactics are slightly different. They try to test you, try to exploit the left side which they haven’t for the entire game. However you’re successful at keeping it locked down, not letting them get around you, which means they take back up their usual routine of going down the middle or the right.
In the 98th minute, a diagonal ball that’s just completely ignored by Millie could’ve easily been scored, it was a big chance for Nigeria. A huge one, it could’ve won them the game. But it didn’t. That still doesn’t mean that you didn’t have a few stern words with your vice captain. Millie understood and she was incredibly apologetic, knowing she fucked up, her words, not yours, she’s tired. All of the girls are, you couldn’t blame her that much, so you just remind her to stay alert and on her player, that’s all really.
You notice Nigeria decide to attack down the right, and Lucy isn’t doing all that well. She seems distracted by something. You’ve never shouted at Lucy on the pitch before, but you just have to, she has to lock that right side down, you can’t concede.
“Luce, c’mon snap out of it, stay on her!” you shout at your girlfriend and Lucy is quick to react. She improves her marking of Ajibade instantly and doesn’t let her past her, locking the right down just how you wanted. Yet again, you had no idea what you had just done to Lucy. The way you commanded her stirred something primal within her, but she was quick to snap out of it: remembering your earlier words, not wanting to disappoint you. It was a weird feeling for Lucy, but she was sure that if you asked her to do anything: she’d do it for you.
The first half of the extra time comes to an end and you have a little break, having a quick gel and then a word with the girls to just play their best and for now push through the pain and the tiredness for their county. For winning this game and for hopefully winning the World Champion title in a few weeks time.
The second half of extra time kicks off and it’s an improvement from the first, you have a second substitution now, so more fresh legs and Beth England is an excellent player.
In the back of your mind, you know that ever since Lauren’s red card you’ve had less possession and have not had a single shot. You pray to change that. You want one to end up in the back of that net, not really wanting to have to end up with going to penalties. But it seems like fate has other ideas. There was a couple of chances that England had in that last half, but unfortunately none could connect. So penalties it is.
A few minutes break is allocated for a breather to discuss who would take the penalties and in what order. It would be Georgia, then Beth, then Rachel, then you, then Chloe and then Alex for the first five, if all five are needed of course. Then the rest of the girls were also ordered, if more than five had to be taken. You had taken a few penalties in your time, all in shootouts, and you’d scored all of them. So you were pretty confident in yourself.
You stood next to Lucy at the end of the line, one arm wrapped around her waist as you watched Georgia set up to take her shot, hoping, praying it would go in. It didn’t, but you were still proud of the midfielder nevertheless she’d played a good game, and you had every faith in Mary in saving the one. Which she doesn’t even need to do because Oparanozie misses the target.
All of the England players scream when Beth slots it perfectly in the back of the next. 1-0 to England. When Alozie steps up to take Nigeria’s second, you hold your breath and when she skies it, you sigh in relief. Lucy quickly pressing a soft kiss to your head.
Rachel scores the next one, slamming it into the top left corner, however Ajibade also scores her one too. 2-1.
Usually when you take penalties, you’re not nervous. Not at all. But you can feel them tingling away around your body. You set the ball down and then close your eyes, quickly taking a moment to breathe, to block out all of the sound of the fans, and to focus on where you’re going to try and slot the ball. When you open your eyes, you focus on the opposite spot, to throw the keeper off, focusing on the bottom right.
You take in a breath and then strike the ball, to which it slots in beautifully in the top left hand corner. The keeper diving completely the wrong way. You run up and jump into Lucy’s arms, her pressing a soft kiss to your lips, which makes fans in the stands go wild. That’ll be in TikTok edits later, but you don’t care. After you, Ucheibe scores hers for Nigeria and then Chloe’s up.
You squeeze Lucy’s hand, if this goes in you’ve done it. You’re through to the World Cup quarter finals. And of course, Chloe Kelly slots it in and England are through. After an incredibly challenging, tiring game, you’d done it. England through to the next round, thank fuck. Nigeria put up a good fight, it was crystal clear they wanted it just as much as you did, the game truly could’ve gone either way.
After consolidating the Nigerian team, you get into the team huddle, standing in between Sarina and then Lucy on your other side, listening to the gaffer give her little post match speech before you have to give yours, a little bit of that aggressive, more dominant edge still clinging to your voice. As Lucy listens to you, she feels that urge cross her body again, the one that’s willing to do whatever you say. To be your good girl. It’s a weird feeling for her. Lucy has never, ever felt this way before. She’s not submissive. She never has been. But seeing you, like this, all commanding, angry and dominant it’s doing things to her and suddenly she craves for you to take charge of her, like you’ve done on the pitch.
After you’ve said what you’ve needed to, you look over at your girlfriend and notice that tiny glint in her eye which means she’s turned on, that makes you raise an eyebrow slightly, wondering how and why. But you just shrug it off, listening to what some of the other girls have to say about the game whilst Lucy’s eyes are fixed on the captains band sitting on your left arm.
A few hours later, you finally manage to get away from all of the girls, Lucy saying the pair of you need an early night. You make it up to your room, and then she’s on you, her lips immediately seeking out yours, kissing you passionately, but not rough like she normally is.
“Put your kit back on, especially the armband,” she breathes against your lips, causing you to furrow your eyebrows.
“You want me to put my dirty, sweaty kit back on? Seriously?” you ask, your tone incredulous, confused beyond belief.
“Mhm, please Y/n, put it on,” she begs, her eyes pleading with yours.
You look at her gone out. What the bloody hell is happening? Lucy had never ever begged you to do anything (unless it’s get her cake) in the entirety of your five year relationship. It takes you a few seconds to deliberate the idea in your head but with a soft sigh you nod and grab your bag that you brought up here earlier, just after the game before the dinner you’ve just had, to get it out of the way.
“Do I have to put my pads back on?” you question as you strip from the England gear you currently had on, getting back into your football kit from the match earlier.
“It’s up to you Y/n, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Lucy states softly as she watches you intently, her eyes glued to the armband that’s now sat back on your left bicep and she swears she feels her knees going weak.
You nod and decide against putting them back on, not actually needing them for whatever you’re about to do. The answer she gives you is not “very Lucy”, usually she would’ve told you exactly what she wants. For extra measure, you put your hair back up into the style of a rather neat bun, much neater than the ones Lucy does in her hair are. You look at yourself in the mirror quickly before glancing back at the brunette, something about seeing yourself in the armband has made that sense of pride and dominance return, exactly what Lucy wanted.
“This what you wanted hm Luce? Want to get me in my kit so I could take charge?” you had finally caught on to what she wanted, it just all clicked and fucking hell, taking charge in the bedroom, of Lucy is an incredibly hot thought.
“Please y/n, I’ll be a good girl, I promise, I need you,” she whines, her usual dominance having completely melted away. It’s almost like another woman is stood in front of you.
“Dirty girl, getting turned on by seeing me get all angry and aggressive on the pitch. I should just leave you here, wanting and not getting anything,” you hum before gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ears, a direct contrast to your words.
“No, please, don’t, I need you baby, I’m so desperate, please.”
God she sounds so so so pretty when she whines, when she begs. You’ve never heard it before, and you want to hear more of it, you’ll make sure Lucy does her fair share of begging before she gets anything from you.
“You sound so pretty when you beg Luce, what you desperate for hm? What do you want me to do?” you ask, fully aware that you’re being a tease, but you know she’ll do what you want.
“I want you to fuck me, please Y/n.”
A small groan slips past your lips at her admission, normally you’re the ones saying those words, begging her to have her way with you. Now it’s the other way around and you love it and of course, you’ll give her exactly what she wants, eventually.
Your lips find hers, kissing her rather hungrily before you start to trail your kisses down the column of her throat, occasionally dragging your teeth over her skin, making her shiver.
“Fuck baby, please stop teasing,” Lucy pleads, her head tilted back slightly, allowing you to have slightly better access to her neck.
“And why should I do that hm?” you question before connecting your lips again, the kiss all teeth and tongue, with you in full control. Your lips stay intact as you reach the edge of the bed, only breaking apart for a few seconds to push her down gently, before kissing her once more.
Lucy whimpers into the kiss, wanting so much more than she’s currently getting, needing you to push her over the edge and give her the orgasm she so desperately craves, that she so desperately needs.
Momentarily, you break the kiss to take off her top, and then her sports bra, carelessly throwing them over your shoulder. You ignore her boobs, for now, going back to roughly making out with her. She lets out another little whimper into your mouth a few seconds later, needing more.
“Is there something wrong Lucia?” you hum teasingly, using her full name which you know has an effect on her, knowing full damn well what she wants.
“I need more Y/n,” she mewls, now having taken to squeezing her thighs together to get a touch a friction.
When you see what she’s doing, you click your tongue in disapproval before then gently pull her legs apart, slotting yourself in between them.
“Oh really? Is what I’m doing not enough for you?”
“N-no, please, give me more.”
Puppy eyes was the last thing you’d expect to see from Lucy, but god they do look adorable. And you find yourself giving in, very slightly to what she wants. Your mouth finds her right boob, gently kissing over it before flickering your tongue over her nipple. After a few little flicks, you tug it between your teeth, then run your tongue over it, soothing the small amount of pain. Your hand finds her left one, kneading the flesh delicately ahead of your fingers twisting and lightly pulling at that nipple, whilst the other one gets taken properly into your mouth for you to suck on.
A mix between a moan and a whimper leaves your girlfriend’s throat and it sounds beautiful, like music to your ears. You keep up with what you’re doing for a while before pulling away and kissing down her chest, littering it with love bites, then you move onto trailing your tongue down her stomach to the waistband of her joggers. Quickly, you get them off of her, leaving her in just her boxers, a very noticeable dark wet patch on the front of the dark cotton.
“Fuck look at you, I’ve hardly touched you and you’re soaked. God if I’d have known if me being captain would make you this needy, I would’ve begged Sarina to have been captain for the Euros too.”
That makes Lucy whine again and squirm a little, wiggling her hips, trying to get you right where she needs you.
“Stop teasing me, please baby,” she whimpers once more, growing stupidly needy.
At first, her whines and her begging you sounded perfect, you loved them, but now, they are getting on your nerves very slightly, just like yours must do to her. Now you realise why she doesn’t like it when you’re whiny and are begging her insistently. Not when you have a plan in place of what you’re doing and she’s just being so goddamn impatient.
“No, stop fucking begging,” you practically growl, but she doesn’t listen, whining a little more and bucking her hips up to almost remind you where you’re so desperately needed.
“Please baby, I need you, it aches, fuck me, please.”
You raise your eyebrows at her so blatantly ignoring you, your hand finds your captains band on your arm and you tug it down before forcing it into Lucy’s mouth.
“There. Now we’re all nice and quiet hm?”
Lucy moans around the gag of your armband and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard, you just hope that you get to hear it again. Sure enough, when your mouth finds her inner thighs after pulling down her boxers, that same noise spills from her throat.
A small smirk tugs onto your lips as you kiss, lick, nip and suck at Lucy’s inner thighs, not darling to inch just that little higher and run your tongue through her soaked folds. Admittedly, you were savouring every second of this, you’d never ever taken her like this. She’s always been sat on your face and there was no time to tease her, so you’d never properly gone down on Lucy.
When you finally do decide to give her a little of what she needs, languidly swiping your tongue over her drenched slit, avoiding her clit like the plague, the prettiest little sound slips around the gag of your armband, something like a moan mixed with a small cry.
You go back to then sucking at her inner thighs, just wanting to tease her a touch more before you really give her what she wants. Lucy’s frustrated, but she doesn’t vocalise it, not whimpering around the gag, nor does she show it, her hips remain planted on the bed, hands screwed up in the duvet: not daring to touch you without your permission. For her your dominance was exhilarating, your armband in her mouth silencing her was what she thought was the hottest thing ever and the sheer confidence you have in taking charge does in fact have her incredibly needy; evidenced in just how soaking wet she is.
After a few seconds, when you see no physical reaction from Lucy to your teasing, you smile and lean up to press a soft kiss to her cheek.
“Such a good girl for me hm? Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll give you what you want,” you coo before dipping your head back down towards her dripping sex.
Those two words, “good girl” have Lucy literally melting in a puddle for you. Involuntarily, her pussy clenches around nothing, clit throbs with need and the moan she lets out - which is slightly muffled - is perfect.
At the revelation that Lucy has a bit of a praise kink going on, you smirk, you’re going to use that to your advantage. As your tongue once again swipes over her slit, your eyes remain locked onto your girlfriends, watching how within seconds of your ministrations, they roll into the back of her head.
“My good girl,” you husk against her cunt before your lips find her clit, sucking just how she likes as one of your fingers teases around her entrance, not dipping inside just yet.
The possession mixed with the praise has Lucy letting out another moan around her gag and as soon as your lips finally find her clit, a muffled cry tumbles from her lips.
You continue with sucking her clit, pushing just one finger inside of her, groaning into her pussy as you feel just how tight she is, how warm she is. When she’s in charge, Lucy rarely lets you finger her, she always forces you to use your mouth and nothing else, it’s because she’s never been much of a receiver. Always giving. But when she’s does want something, the quickest way to get her off is to eat her out, so she’d make you do just that: so she could get back to fucking you quicker.
Slowly, you pump your finger in and out of her, a second one soon joining the first, feeling her walls stretch a little to accommodate it. You can already feel Lucy getting closer to the edge, so you slow down even more. You want to draw this out. You want to prep her to take the strap.
“Doing so well for me sweetheart, think you can take a third for me?” you ask her softly, pulling your mouth away from her clit for just a few seconds, still fucking her with your fingers.
Eagerly, Lucy nods. She wants to take it, to be your good girl, she knows she can take them too. You smile at her and then once again dip your head back down. Your tongue swirls over her clit gently, before you go back to sucking the sensitive nub.
A third finger slowly joins the second two, and your curl up all three of them, causing the right back to let out another muffled cry around the gag. The stretch for her is perfect, the feeling of taking three of your fingers is sensational, it feels like heaven. With each thrust of your fingers, Lucy can feel them hitting her g-spot, which makes her face contort with pleasure.
You speed up your fingers and your sucking, determined to push her over the edge, wanting to make her cum hard. Lucy’s knuckles turn white with how hard she’s now clenching the duvet, her back arching slightly, eyes now squeezed shut, stars dancing behind her eyelids. With what sounds to be like a moan of your name around your armband, she comes undone, harder than she ever has done. Just like you wanted.
Your movements slow, gently rocking your fingers inside of her, so she can ride out her orgasm. You press a gentle kiss to her clit before pulling your mouth of her, so you can murmur gentle reassurances to her as she comes back down from her high.
“You did so good for me sweetheart, such a good girl,” you state softly whilst gently easing your fingers out of her, which you clean by sucking on them.
The sight of you sucking and moaning around your fingers, coated in her cum, has Lucy getting worked back up again, which you obviously notice.
“You need more hm?” you tease as you ease your armband out of her mouth, pulling it back on to your left arm.
“Please, w..want you to use the strap,” she admits breathlessly, her voice slightly hoarse from your armband being in her mouth for so long, her eyes watching as you put it back where it belongs: slightly wet from her mouth.
“Hmm, do you think you deserve it?”
Lucy simply nods as she watches you pull down your shorts, the underwear you’re wearing are very damp, a clear sign of your own arousal.
“Me too, you’ve been my good girl after all,” you hum, pressing your lips to hers, giving her a soft peck.
When you’re at home, the strap usually resides in the bedside table, and Lucy always wears it. When you’re on camp, you have it in a bag that sits in the wardrobe with all of your other toys. You give Lucy a few more pecks, before getting off the bed and walking over to the wardrobe. The doors are slightly ajar on it as you must’ve forgotten to close it after grabbing your kit bag from it earlier.
You find the bag which is sat in the back of the cupboard and pull it forward, undoing the zipper on it. There’s not many toys in there, you have way more at home, but neither you nor Lucy were going to weigh your suitcases down when you flew out here, to Australia, with sex toys.
The harness gets pulled out of the bag and then so does a seven inch sleek black dildo that you’ll clip into the front of it. You make your way back over to the bed, the two items in hand and then nestle yourself in between Lucy’s spread legs.
You set the things down onto the mattress and then remove your shirt, tossing it somewhere in the room, leaving you in just your sports bra and underwear.
From the countless times of watching Lucy put the strap on, you know exactly what you’re doing. Your underwear come off and then you attach the harness to your hips. The brunettes eyes beneath you are fixated on your own soaked cunt, which you’re not even thinking about, your full focus is on giving your girl exactly what she needs.
“See something you like sweetheart?” you taunt whilst clipping the dildo into the slot at the front.
“Mhm, you’re so beautiful Y/n. Can you take your bra off, please?” she asks softly, her hand coming to paw at the material gently.
You smile and gently take her hand, kissing her knuckles before letting it go and removing the final item of clothing, which also makes Lucy smile.
“That what you wanted Luce?”
“Yes, y..you look perfect, I love you,”
“I love you too sweetheart.”
You gently kiss her forehead, then her cheek, the tip of her nose and then her lips. You kiss her for a few seconds, it’s gentle, unlike your earlier, more rougher, demanding ones.
After those few seconds, you pull away and then adjust your positioning, running the head of the dildo through her folds, which causes her to gasp.
“Fuck baby, please, n-need you,” she whimpers as you line the tip up with her entrance.
“Shh sweetheart, I know, you’re being so good for me,” you croon before you slowly push the strap into her, your eyes fixated on her pussy swallowing it, the sight getting engraved into the back of your mind.
In all honesty, you thought Lucy had never looked more beautiful. Her eyes almost closed, lips parted, one hand gripping the sheets, the other now gripping onto one of yours, her hair sprawled out against the pillows, her face contorted in sheer pleasure, her abs slightly tensed, the sounds escaping her and the way her pussy looks swallowing your goddamn strap. This was something you were going to remember for a long, long time.
“Shit Luce, you’re so tight, doing so well for me,” you grunt as you start to slowly thrust in and out of her, your eyes moving up to her face, to watch her reaction to your movements.
The praise has her letting out a small whimper, which turns into a loud moan as you start move. Her hand that’s in yours grips it a little tighter, for her it feels weird, she feels so full, stretched so beautifully, she could definitely get used to the feeling.
“F..fuck, feels so good Y/n. Harder, please,” she begs softly and it’s impossible to not give her what she wants, after all she has been good for you.
You increase the force of your thrusts, little grunts occasionally tumbling from your lips, like the ones that you make when lifting in the gym and Lucy fucking loves it. She loves hearing the little noises you’re making, knowing you’re enjoying it just as much as she is.
“Taking me so well, my good fucking girl.”
Lucy’s eyes roll into the back of her head, the praise making everything so much better for her, she can feel herself getting closer, her small moans getting louder, her walls gripping your strap tighter.
“Baby I’m close, p..please don’t stop,” Lucy pleads, her legs shaking slightly from the force off the orgasm that’s she’s so close to letting go of.
“Not yet sweetheart, hold it for me,” you demand softly whilst pushing your strap deeper into her, your hips snapping slightly faster. Selfishly, you don’t want her to cum yet, for it to all be over. You don’t know if you’ll ever get to experience this again, to watch Lucy take your strap, to be the one on top, the one in charge. So you just want to draw this out for as long as possible and you know Lucy will listen to you.
Lucy doesn’t complain, she just simply nods, opening her eyes properly to look at you. To her you look perfect. Your eyes are completely darkened with lust, watching her, your hairs up in that damn bun, some of the strands coming loose and sticking to your forehead and your captains armband is sat snug around your left bicep: you look like heaven to her.
“Look at you, look so fucking pretty taking my cock,” you practically growl, your eyes now back to watching her pussy take the toy as you pound into her faster, which makes her moans even louder.
“Y/n, please c..can’t hold it any longer,” she whines, her hand tightening in yours to ground herself as she knows her orgasm is going to be intense. She can feel it.
“Fuck, cum for me sweetheart, cum all over my cock.”
With a sudden cry, Lucy comes undone, her legs shaking slightly from its intensity, her eyes now rolled back, her back arched a little and her face contorted up in sheer bliss. You don’t know where to look, her face, her cunt, at the way her abs tense. You keep your eyes on her face, watching how it twists with pleasure, your hips slow down, still gently rocking the toy in and out of her, allowing her to ride out her high.
“That’s it sweetheart, such a good girl,” you hum, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before ever so gently easing the toy out of her sensitive pussy, revelling in the way it grips your strap harder, as if it doesn’t want you to leave.
Once the toy is out, you quickly undo the harness and then toss it off, throwing it onto the floor. You then lay down next to your girlfriend, wrapping your arms around her gently, allowing her to cuddle into you, whilst you pressed gentle kisses all over her face.
“T..that was incredible,” Lucy managed to exclaim a few minutes later after coming down from the most incredible high she’d ever experienced.
“It was, my god you looked so beautiful Luce, who knew seeing me be captain could get you so worked up,” you couldn’t help but tease, watching as she responds by playfully rolling her eyes.
“Hm, I don’t know what can over me, it was just like hot, watching you take charge of everyone on the pitch y’know?”
“Mhm, I think I’ll beg Sarina to let me be captain forever now if that happens every time after we have a game.”
Lucy swats your shoulder playfully, her eyes watching as you pull off the armband and toss it onto the nightstand.
“No, I couldn’t focus on the game at points because all I was focused on was you baby,” she points out with a small smile, her lips gently pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“Oh really?” you ask, rhetorically, as you think back to the game earlier that day which feels like it was years ago. “That actually makes a lot of sense, I knew something else was going on earlier, it has been the entire tournament,”
“Yep, ever since the Haiti game. I’ve been wanting you to take charge for a little while now,”
“Well I definitely want to do it again,” you suggest with a little smirk crossing your lips, making her chuckle.
“Ditto baby.”
With that, it didn’t take the pair of you that long to fall asleep, all tangled up in each other, your bodies exhausted from the match you played in earlier and then the incredible sex you’d just had. As you slept, there was one thing you both knew for certain: you’d been taking charge much more often.
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pinkyqily · 2 days ago
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LJ AND HER SUPER COOL GIRLFRIEND [Lauren.James x reader]
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Summary: Your girlfriend asked you to help her braid her hair and who are you to decline.
A/N: finally putting out a fic after months of not writing this is a fic that randomly came to me and I had to write it, I plan on updating this fic from time to time so stay tuned for that,if you have any requests for this feel free to let me know in my inbox and I'm also taking new requests if you have any send them my way.
ALSO THIS A REPOST FROM MY OLD ACCOUNT
Contains: Lauren james x blk reader, reader is black but feel free to use your imagination, why is the title this you may ask because this fic is like those romcom with the werid ass name that aren't that werid but ppl don't get it, plus this was how the fic idea came to me lj had a really cool gf so yeah, there's no tw just a lovey dovey fic 💘.
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To say lauren was obsessed with you was an understatement because if she could worship you from dusk till dawn. She would, without hesitation people always seem to be surprised that someone like her could end up with a woman like you.
You find it stereotypical stupid just because you're both two women in a relationship it shouldn't matter what your pillars are cause of the world difference.
But in all honesty, you couldn't careless especially when you're with the woman who fulfills every single one of your desires and loves you down to earth.
One thing you loved about Lauren was her hair and how she embraced it. Even though it was rare, she would let anyone touch it unless she was getting it done that was all.
So today, when she had asked you to braid her hair before the match against arsenal, you couldn't pass on the moment.
You were scrolling on your phone while you waited for your girlfriend to come join you downstairs so you could start. Unknowingly to you didn't hear Lauren heading downstairs as you felt two pairs of hands grabbing you by your waist.
"Hello to you too james". You told her
"Hey, my love." She said has her arms where still wrapped around your waist.
"So what hairstyle are you thinking of doing?". You asked her.
I was thinking about doing sum cornrows my love".she said while laying her head on your lap.
"Umm good choice".you told her before getting started on her hair.
In between doing Lauren hair you had to stop her from trying to touch you if not you wouldn't be able to finish doing it but knowing lauren you knew she wouldn't give up without a fight.
So that's how you ended on the floor on top of her instead of finishing the rest.
"Lauren, let go of me we can do this later I got have to finish braiding your hair". You tried telling her which was no use cause the grip she had on your waist was strong.
"How about you give me a kiss then we can continue."
"But I already did". You said while rolling your eyes at her.
"Lips and cheeks are not the same thing babe".all of a sudden, you felt a light smack on your thighs.
"Lauren." You yelled out her name after
"I love listening to the sound of my name coming out your mouth."she told as her thumb brushed your lips.
After your Makeout session with Lauren, you we're finally able to finish doing the rest of her hair without any disturbances.
"Baby I'm done doing your hair." You called out only to realize she had fallen asleep on your lap, not being able to do anything about it you grabbed the blanket that was already on the couch and layed it around the both of you.
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margot-le-snail · 2 days ago
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Oh, *now* he wishes he’d done it.
“But if I had to do it again, I might suggest to kiss and see how it played. But neither of the actors were ever afraid of going there. If there were any concerns, it was always just about the remaining authentic. That certainly was my goal because, yes, I absolutely wanted to see them kiss. That would be wank bank material for the best of us [Laughs]. But I was just really trying to maintain authenticity in the moment. The shot that's in there felt the most authentic and felt like it struck the right balance. But if I could get back into the editing room, I might do something differently now."
Also:
“It started out as kind of a fascination with how straight guys interact with each other in a romantic way that is not sexual," Fuller tells EW. "Initially, I didn't want to misrepresent Thomas Harris' characters because they clearly have heterosexual leanings in the source material, but as with the kids these days, that sexuality became much more fluid over the course of the series.”
The palpable sexual chemistry between his two stars is what inspired Fuller to take the leap and start thinking about the series as a love story. "They really helped kind of leach that romance out of the page into something that was actionable that became writing dialogue that was, 'Is Hannibal in love with me?' and 'do you ache for him?'" says Fuller. "I was just following the lead of the actors, as opposed to having a gay agenda. The gay agenda came later."
[Underlying EW piece has more - including surprising entry of Avatar into the chat]
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talkbycolor · 8 hours ago
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Hello there! I have to say, I really, really, REALLY LOVE your Kindergarten au. Little Yanderes as noisy children and MC as a Teacher who is not being paid enough XD.
Feel free to ignore if it's uncomfortable for you!
This is my first time asking so sorry if I am bothering you, But how will the mini yanderes react if they were kissed in the lips, not in a romantic way but like a parent showing love and care <3
how Mini!Yanderes react when MC kisses them¡!
A/N; even if MC kissed them like a parent the yanderes would hear wedding bells so JASHJHSAJS also the thought of an adult kissing a child on the lips is a bit weird to me so i will change it to kisses on cheek or forehead. i was listening ddlc soundtrack to write this AND SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG
Pairing(s); "Mini!Yanderes" and GN!Reader
CW; this is actually fluff / need to remark MC just see the little yans as kids they need to take care of, no one has special treatment
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Sunny Day Jack.
Jack would be the one to take the initiative, in this case, the first time he kissed MC's cheek would have been during the school photo.
Early spring, all the children had arrived well-groomed to the classroom, MC finished combing John Doe's hair while the professional photographer adjusted his camera in position, the children moved from one side to the other, except Jack.
Jack finished adjusting his bowtie, very dedicated to being the most handsome child in the photo.
Finally MC gathered them all in different rows, placing themselves behind in the center.
"I will only take it once so if you need to go to the bathroom or sneeze do it now." Said the cameraman in a listless voice, no one had any protests or urgency so he raised his hand, specifically 3 fingers.
"Three… Two… One." A flash of photography dazzled them, the curious little ones ran towards the man to be able to appreciate the photograph.
And then they saw in the photo how Jack had jumped and pulled his teacher's arm to kiss their cheek, causing several students to immediately cry.
As for Jack's reaction:
He considers himself a winner, he probably looks for other ways to ask for kisses since MC is quite open about giving affection to his students, nothing too overwhelming.
Can't stop thinking about their future as a married couple.
A manipulative bastard will surely fake accidents or work twice as hard on his tasks to get that reward.
John Doe.
John Doe is a student who needs sensitivity, but don't give him too many kisses on the forehead or you'll overwhelm him.
A day like any other, the class activity required flour and water, something simple to mold and non-toxic since many of the students love to put things in their mouths, so full of curiosity.
MC finished helping everyone create their mixtures, Keith finished making flowers with his dough while Tenebris ate it.
The children learned and had fun, it was comfortable.
Until some sobs made the teacher run to where a little long-haired boy, John Doe, who couldn't stop crying, the dough had gotten stuck in his hair.
Of course, prepared for any occasion, MC took the little boy to the bathroom to wash off all the dough, which fortunately wasn't as sticky as the time Peter put gum in Mycheal's hair.
"There you go, see? Simple, are you okay, Doe? Don't cry, everything is fixed now." MC comforted their student with hugs and coos, kissing Doe's forehead.
"Again?" He asked with those huge eyes full of tenderness, MC gave more kisses on her student's forehead, who asked for more and more between laughs.
They had to stop when they realized that Doe was convulsing with happiness on the floor, it did scare them.
As for Doe's reaction:
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"
He reacts in an exaggerated way, with adorable and loud giggles, hugs, red cheeks, his happiness is evident.
He is like a cat with dilated pupils and he scares MC.
Alan Orion.
Great project for class! Alan and his mom drew a picture of the solar system and he was in an astronaut suit, he didn't learn half of the names of the planets but it was enough to get a kiss.
The theme for that day was to draw a picture of things they want to do when they grow up, Alan carried his drawing to the board while holding it up over his head.
"I'm going to be an astronaut and walk in the stars!" he commented proudly.
"Very good, Alan, come here." MC called him over to place a star-shaped sticker on his drawing.
Alan tilted his head towards the teacher, subtly indicating what he wanted and of course the teacher didn't deny it, kissing the little boy's head.
As for Alan's reaction:
He loves praise, especially from his favorite teacher, and will keep a smile on his face for the rest of the day.
He will seek further validation from MC in other aspects.
Whenever he finishes a new activity he points his head up in anticipation of kisses.
Peter Dunbar.
One day he got sick and didn't got a kiss like everyone else.
Peter was confused, why were his classmates laughing at him while he sat in his spot?
Jack walked over with his arms crossed and a grin from ear to ear.
"Yesterday teacher MC gave us all a kiss." he said mockingly.
Of course Peter immediately ran crying to the teacher to get a kiss on the forehead.
As for Peter's reaction:
He was so upset with himself for getting sick and with the others for getting a kiss before him, he cried for 2 hours.
He asked MC for many make-up kisses, which led to the others asking for a kiss as well.
Peter bit and kicked the ones who came up to ask for a kiss, and ended up being punished.
Ren.
You don't need to be good at naming colors or good at sports when you're smart to win.
Play in the garden! All the kids were very excited, especially Ren, who got the lead role, he was a prince, surely that would delight MC, he had rehearsed so much to be the perfect prince.
The play was pretty simple, he had to dance with a girl and although that wasn't in his plans he couldn't push her off the stage or MC would think he wasn't chivalrous.
The exact minute after the play ended Ren snatched the crown from the girl's head and ran after MC.
"Teacher! Teacher! I have something for you, can I put it on you?" He asked batting his eyelashes.
MC didn't wonder where the other crown came from, they assumed the girl gave it to Ren since… Well, it's Ren. The teacher knelt down with a smile and bowed their head to allow the little boy to place the crown.
They were surprised with a tender kiss on the lips, making them gasp and quickly get up, the crown was on their head... but Ren had stolen a kiss from them!
The little boy was blushing, so happy that he couldn't stop giggling.
It was a shame that there were so many eyes looking at him with great anger at that moment.
As for Ren's reaction:
He was so happy, how could he not be? He had beaten all those losers in the classroom
He made enemies but he tries to maintain a good reputation with MC
The bad thing is that he couldn't steal more kisses from MC because now his teacher was more careful when he was around.
Mycheal.
Flowers are pretty but you are not allowed to pick them from the school garden.
It was early in the morning, not all the children had arrived yet to start class, MC arranged their notebooks and prepared the lesson for that day, while Mycheal walked through the garden looking for flowers to give to his teacher.
He knew that was not allowed but the best flowers were always there, since MC watered the plants every day, so considerate!
Finally he reached the rose bush, that was always dangerous because many times he tried to take them because of how beautiful they were but it hurt a lot, the thorns were terrible.
But today he would do it! A little pain was nothing compared to his teacher's laughter.
The little blond crouched in front of the bush and held a couple of roses, taking a deep breath when the thorns embedded themselves in his skin and he began to pull.
Harder and harder until his body fell on his back, tears came out of his eyes but he smiled when he saw a pair of red roses in his hands.
"Teacher! Teacher! Look what I made for you!" He was so proud of his bouquet that he was unable to see MC's worried face.
"Mycheal, you know you shouldn't pick flowers from the garden… Come, let's put them in a vase and heal your hands." MC said, taking the little boy's little hands to give kisses to his palms, which were bleeding a little because of the thorns.
As for Mycheal's reaction:
Mycheal learned to use gloves to pick flowers, but he can't do it anymore or he'll get punished.
Now he gets into fights on purpose to get kisses on his wounds.
He's also gotten kisses thanks to sharing his lunch with MC.
Keith and Tenebris.
Nap time in the garden, but there are always a couple of kids who don't sleep.
All the little ones were resting on the padded floor, covered by blankets after MC read them a story…
All except Keith and Tenebris of course, the twins were sitting near MC, Keith wanted more stories while Tenebris just wanted hugs.
Their teacher decided to read the story of "Sleeping Beauty", a simple story with a happy ending, he got to the part where the princess was woken up with a kiss, which gave Tenebris an idea.
The boy stood up and ran straight to the wall, crashing into it and falling to the ground, although he didn't use that much force it did scare MC, who didn't understand why the boy did that.
"Tenebris needs a kiss to wake up." The boy whispered with his eyes closed, waiting for said kiss.
Although ridiculous, it was also adorable so the teacher bent down to kiss the little boy's forehead.
"Me too! Me too!" Keith whimpered, clinging to his teacher's arm before receiving a kiss on his forehead.
As for Keith and Tenebris's reaction:
They discovered that they will get more affection if they make a truce, both asking for kisses at the same time to get double the affection.
They also both ask for kisses from MC behind the other's back.
Now they always try to stay awake during nap time, so the other students won't bother MC.
Solivan Brugmansia.
Spring event, it's time to bring out your artistic talents! But not in the case of the teacher.
MC had ordered their students to draw a picture of the things they liked most about spring, a simple activity to celebrate the beginning of spring, they were allowed to use crayons, paints, watercolors, chalk…
"Doe, don't eat the colors!" They ran towards the curious child who was trying to put a color in his mouth.
Being a teacher wasn't easy and although most of his students drove them crazy they had to admit that it was adorable.
Time passed, slowly while the children concentrated, it was strange that there was so much silence but not inopportune, the teacher decided to walk around their students to supervise their work, stopping behind Sol.
He had drawn a garden, it seemed that in the background were the horses and… MC?
The teacher sighed, stroking the boy's head and kissing his cheek, he just hoped that his parents wouldn't come to the festival asking weird questions because of how attached Sol seemed to be to him.
As for Sol's reaction:
He still doesn't understand why his parents worry when he draws his teacher, he loves MC!
Prone to developing praise kink.
His artistic skills would evolve thanks to his obsession with drawing MC, which would lead to more compliments and more kisses, clever, huh?
Damon.
Time to go out and play! Sometimes tears bring good things.
The whole group followed the teacher in a row, like baby ducks following their mother, they were on their way to the playground in the kindergarten, holding hands so as not to get lost of course.
They all made a circle on the field while MC prepared the game for the day, nothing too complicated.
In the end they decided to play soccer, nothing serious, just a bunch of little kids kicking the ball around each other.
It could have been entertaining if it weren't for the fact that Damon kept trying to catch the ball with his mouth, it made some people laugh but MC was worried, the real problem came when Ren tried to kick the ball while Damon was so close to catching it with his teeth.
Fortunately there was no blood but there were tears from little Damon, who cried and cried with his arms up, wanting to be carried by MC.
MC told them to keep playing while they tended to Damon, taking him to the infirmary where they made sure to hold him in their arms and caress his sweet little cheeks so that the swelling would go down.
His teacher kissed his head lovingly.
"There, there, there… Are you feeling better, Damon? It's over, don't worry, but you should know that you shouldn't use your mouth in a game where your legs are used, understood?"
As for Damon's reaction:
He understands that injuries mean kisses and cuddles from MC, prone to getting into fights to get more and then blaming Peter.
He's like a puppy, always rubbing his head against MC for attention.
He asks for kisses every day, if he doesn't get them he'll instantly sob like a pup.
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yayll · 15 hours ago
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heyyy! I just read ur rockstar!Dazai fic and it honestly reminded me of this idea I had!!! (loved the fic btw!) Are you able to write an actor!dazai x fem!actor reader and they r fake dating while secretly being rivals ?? (I’d like 2 be known as 🦎-anon!)
hiiii 🦎 anon hehe
i'm sorry this was quite the wait, i LOVED your idea and i wanted to write it properly and i kind of took some liberties so i hope you enjoy it regardless? thank you for trusting me w your fic idea actor!dazai now haunts me actually dazai in any like, imagine just fucks my shit up that man is a menace in any story i put him in and i'm so glad others agree. i love u baby mwah u get so many ivy kisses
~ a little something about you and actor!Dazai keeping up appearances ~
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"You're choking meee!"
"I'm just fixing your tie, Osamu-"
"It's babe, actually."
"It's whatever I want if you want me to keep holding your hand in public, jerk."
He pouts at this. What a cute little meanie you were! Always scolding him and spewing empty threats as if you were hot shit. You were hot shit, and that was only the beginning of his problems... The biggest one right now being backstage with you while attending the hottest awards show of the year.
Just before he can respond, the curtains are drawn and it's a stagehand whisking you two away to present the next award infront of thousands of fans. You're walking side by side, your heels clicking with each step when Dazai leans in to whisper something.
"You should stand on my left, my right side is more attractive."
"We're both facing forward, does it matter?"
He raises a brow and huffs dramatically in typical Dazai fashion. You two had been 'dating' for a year now, everyone was invested in this blooming romance ever since you both started in that drama together, now it's nothing but red hearts for you two.
It wasn't planned, it just kind of happened... It also wasn't completely awful, but it was the goddamn ego on Dazai that really made you want to strangle him sometimes. He knew he was pretty and desired, and what a threat you were with such an iconic streak in all of your latest projects. No wonder you two had to be paired together, on your own you were both dynamite. An unstable formula that needed to be stabilized by combining it together. Thought could that make it worse?
You present the award holding hands the entire time, an act highly encouraged by the need to convince, and yet when it's you two doing it it never feels as forced as you'd like it to be. There is a comfortability in the role of this relationship, you've come to realize yet supress. You'll hold hands for so long you begin to get clammy, and it's certainly not because he dotes on you almost every time he speaks! Which he hates doing... It's just a script, after all. Duh.
You're both making your way out of the venue towards the car that awaits to drive you to the after party when you're ambushed by interviewers and hundreds of flashes that yell out speed questions.
"Does the beautiful couple have time to stop and answer a few things for us tonight!"
Dazai loves that shit. Of course he has the time, he doesn't care if you don't. He has to sell it, obviously, since you don't put in the effort according to him. He flashes the interviewer that sardonic little smirk you hate and speaks innocently.
"Why, us? Sure! Right, honey?"
He turns to you and the crowd loves it. You hold back how badly you want to roll your eyes and simply smile, holding yourself high with grace and a ton of media training.
"We'd love to."
The interviewer is overjoyed as she looks between you and Dazai, taking in that affection that radiates from your false words. She grins as she goes along to ask her question.
"So, I think a lot of the fans are wondering..."
You and Dazai perk up, not even realizing that you're clutching the bottom of your dress so tighty that your knuckles are white. The interviewer looks directly at you.
"The two of you have been the most stunning couple the industry has seen in a while. Any plans for the future?"
You freeze. Ugh, not this again. You shake your head, smirking to yourself at the absurdity of the concept alone.
"Thank you, but honestly we're just taking things day by day. There's no rush between us, we have all we need right here and now."
The journalist smiles again and nods, seemingly impressed by your laid back attitude. Dazai snorts and suddenly interjects, clearly having a cheeky response to give to the crowd of journalists.
"We'll have tons of kids in the future, actually~"
Your panic is so instant that you literally laugh out loud, yet recovering quickly by turning your shock into a playful glance at your lover. You manage a more sweet giggle and smack him on the chest a little harder than people would guess.
"Ooh, he's joking, of course"
The journalist rejoices, finding your banter and your overall interaction as a couple cute. The ideal power couple! Dazai grins and turns to you again, leaning in to tease you, his narrowed Hazelnut eyes piercing into you like a promise.
"Not joking. One day we're going to have a massive pack of little kids running around. And it's going to be your fault for being sooo cute~"
And with that, he leans in all the way into a million dollar kiss on your confused and parted lips. You're taken so offguard you almost fall back and of course grab onto him a little tighter... and run your fingers through his disheveled hair you forgot to nag him to cut... As the cameras go off like crazy, you wonder if it's worth ruining your public image for a while just so you can slap him harder than you ever have before.
Everyone's cooing and you're fuming, so you settle for a quick thank you and goodbye as you drag Dazai off the red carpet and into the car. He's giggling the entire time, of course. As soon as the door shuts out the screaming fans watching you drive off, you turn to Dazai and whisper ardently.
"What was that all about?! We didn't discuss this prior to-"
"... You liked it."
"Huh?"
"You liked it when I kissed you."
You scoff, though it sounds like you're choking.
"I did not. I just did what I had-"
"... And you want to have my babies. That's adorable, how devoted of you!"
You smack him on the arm but he's smiling like a cat who's had too much catnip, too far gone into his delusions to care about the repercussions. Love is love, after all...
"I think we should break up, like officially. You're nuts. The press won't let that go, Osamu."
He perks up, snapping out of his stasis and crinkles his nose in disapproval. He shakes his head, his hand on his chin as if in deep thought. Dazai mutters, barely above a whisper.
"... We won't actually break up, though."
"And why not?"
"Because in about 60 seconds we're going to kiss again and you'll be clinging onto me the entire night."
You snort into a laugh, tilting your head in disbelief. The car slowly comes to a halt as you arrive at the after party where a familiar roar of the crowd awaits to greet you once more. You begin your futile argument yet again.
"I don't see why I would do that."
At such a silly reply, Dazai softens his voice, looking at you like he first did when you both met on set a year ago. A lifetime ago. You're so cute when you're playing dumb. He shrugs, carefree.
"Neither do I, which is why I want to know too. I want to know what you're thinking about, if it's me."
You hate the way he sounds so sincere, like a real boyfriend would if he were trying to convince you you're just as into him as he is into you. Mind games is what it is, or at least you hope so. You really hope so.
You sigh, suddenly over the conversation as you open the car door to begin climbing out. Dazai follows suit and the roar of the crowd makes your chest feel tight as overstimulation takes over. You want to be anywhere but here and you wonder if you're having some sort of panic attack, but it just doesn't feel describable.
You turn wildly, disoriented by the camera flashes and instant fuss of the press, only to be faced by your one and only savior: the omnipotent Osamu Dazai. You don't know what it is about him in that moment, you just glide into his arms and complete the prophecy as you hook your arm with his, taking deep breaths as you finally ground yourself. It feels like the right kind of wrong, and you don't care to question it.
You feel a squeeze and a soft velvety voice whisper to you once again, you don't even have to look at him to know he's as smug as ever. But amongst the teasing, there's affection there too...
"So, am I?"
"Are you what, Osamu?"
"On your mind."
"At this point you're practically a permanent resident."
You hear him hum, a smile still present on his lips, the world simply frozen for him to continue his private conversation with you in public.
"Hmm, remind me to have you repeat that to me later."
This causes you to squeeze his arm back and murmur in genuine curiosity, finally daring to face him. He's already looking right at you, so devilish and angelic at the same time that you can't even look away from his awfully handsome face.
"Why?"
"Because your time's up. 60 seconds, remember? Now come and kiss me already, the camera's are waiting~"
The photos of you two that night were the envy of couples everywhere. If only they knew how the ride back to the hotel went, it would be a scandal! Or simply the next step in your future?
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catholicfacade · 2 days ago
Text
WIP PREVIEW
pairing: joost klein x f! reader, joost klein x f! OC
word count: 3,572
synopsis: Joost Klein accidentally meets the love of his life through a tik tok. Valentine. She’s his complete opposite; quiet, reserved, and a bit cold, whereas Joost is bright, bubbly, and extremely outgoing, almost obnoxiously so. But opposites attract and the art of balance is delicate. Getting to know each other without interference proves difficult at first, but the minute Joost and Valentine realize their pining is mutual it’s full speed ahead for the two of them. Like puzzle pieces, they become inseparable, fitted together like it’s always meant to be. Everyone around them is convinced no two people in the world love each other as much as Joost and Valentine do. But Joost’s growing fame sends him down an unexpected spiral, one Valentine is desperate to pull him out of. It changes everything. The two who were once attached at the hip learn to no longer even speak each others names, desperately still in love, but the damage is unbearable. If only the puzzle pieces can come together again to realize just how perfect they are for each other.
authors note: tagging this as both x reader and x OC because this is written in 3rd person POV, i find writing 2nd person difficult for me because i just tend to write “reader” as self-insert, and i know i am a VERY specific type of person 😅 soooooo lowkey self-ship??? but i think it’s best to just make reader an OC and you can simply swap out her name, pronouns, and traits for your own when it’s necessary. and so i would say Valentine [who i named after my own last name, this is just the name i use for ALL my protagonists in my writing actually😅], she’s implied to be autistic/neurodivergent and generally just socially awkward, quiet, introverted. again, self-insert. she is also goth. i always write protagonists with really heavy, angsty, traumatic backstories so i think that’s also why i turn readers into OC’s because i don’t want to force a traumatic past upon you as reader 😭 there is also “April”, who is a second OC i made for this series, she is Valentines best friend who owns her own alternative clothing company and is very important to the story along the way:))
content: RPF, awkwardness, slow burn, pining, yearning, hint of angst, mention alcohol consumption, masturbation, kissing, fantasizing
!!18+ & RPF, DO NOT REPOST OR INTERACT IF RPF MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!!
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how it started:
At 12pm on the dot, two people walk in, Valentine greets them smiling, “Hallo! Hoe gaat het?” [Hello! How are you?] Her Dutch is limited but she tries her best.
“Hallo, is April hier?” [Hello, is April here?] The girl with dark curly hair asks as she approaches, she’s followed by what Valentine assumes to be her boyfriend.
“Nee, maar kan ik jullie helpen?” [No, but can I help you?] Val offers them a gentle smile, unsure if her Dutch is even grammatically correct or not.
“Oh-“ The girls eyebrows shoot up, “You’re Valentine, right?” She suddenly switches to English, Valentine is simultaneously embarrassed but also thankful for the switch.
A blush rises on her cheeks as she nods, “Yeah that’s me, sorry about my Dutch.” She waves her hand apologetically.
“I’m Alanis, and this is Apson.” Alanis smiles and holds her hand out and so does Apson. Val shakes their hands, “Nice to meet you guys, you wanted to film in the store right?”
“Ja, just a little skit about being emo. I wanna seem like a guy who is a total poser and then run out of the store crying when I get called out.” Apson said, maybe blushing a little from having to explain his stupid bit.
It made Valentine chuckle though, “Do whatever you gotta do, man! April told me you have permission from her already so you’re good to do your thing.”
“Thanks,” Apson and Alanis said in unison, which made them giggle at each other.
“Can I borrow some clothes?” Apson said looking around.
“Sure,” Val nodded, “Let me open the changing room for you.” She grabbed the keys and unlocked the changing room at the back of the store as Appie and Alanis brainstormed what the character should be wearing. They ended up picking out a stereotypical e-boy outfit, a black and white striped long-sleeve shirt, a Metallica t-shirt to go on top, some fingerless skeleton gloves, baggy Tripp pants, and a studded belt.
Appie went into the changing room a few minutes later to get ready, leaving Valentine and Alanis outside together.
“How long have you worked here? It feels weird we haven’t seen you around yet, we’re in here all the time it feels like.” Alanis asked, tilting her head slightly to examine Valentine.
“Not long, only a month now. I think we must’ve just narrowly avoided each other this whole time.” Valentine chuckles and Alanis nods in agreement.
“How long have you known April then?” Valentine asks Alanis.
“I got one piece of jewelry here like a year ago,” Alanis shows Val her gemstone necklace, “And now I get all my jewelry from here, look!” Alanis smiles, showing a few silver rings on her fingers and a beaded bracelet.
“Oh, is that moonstone?” Valentine asks excitedly.
“Yeah! Isn’t it so pretty?” Alanis moves the beads around so they flash their colors brightly in Valentines eyes.
“I love it, and it goes perfectly with your outfit!” She said and Alanis thanks her, “My favorite gemstone is—“
“Done!” Apson calls out suddenly, making both of the girls turn, he looks a bit ridiculous, but that’s the point. The pants are definitely a size too big and the belt definitely isn’t helping because they are practically hanging off of his body.
“Let me put some eyeshadow on you.” Alanis mumbles as she approaches Appie, she looks through her bag until she finds the small compact, taking it out to apply the black shadow loosely around Apson’s eyes. He ends up just looking more tired than emo, but again, it must be what works for the skit.
Val just watches from afar with an amused smile on her face, she likes them, Appie and Alanis, they seem like good people. There’s some footsteps behind her and she turns to see a few customers coming in, “Goedendag!” [Good day!] She greets them, they say it back before looking around at some of the shelves at the front of the store. Valentine returns to her earlier work, stitching by hand some stars onto the corner of a skirt.
“Okay, like this—“ Appie talks Alanis through the scene first, he’s speaking Dutch again so Val can’t pick up most of what he’s saying, he’s just gesturing for how and where Alanis should hold the camera when they go to film. He’s quietly rehearsing the lines with her when he perks up a bit, “Wait…Valentine?”
Val looks over at Appie, “Do you mind saying a line for the tik tok? Just the one about me being a poser?”
She grows a bit nervous, “Oh uhhh…I’m probably not very good at acting… I don’t really post on tik tok like that…” She rubs the back of her neck and looks between Apson and Alanis awkwardly.
“Don’t worry, you just gotta go like ‘ew, fucking poser’ and that’s it!” Apson gives the line a little scoff and a little attitude to it. He grins at her, clearly enthused with his new idea.
“Okay…” Val agrees weakly, coming around the counter to stand by Alanis’ side.
“Okay so like this,” Apson says, rerunning through his lines once more while Alanis practices getting the best angles for the tik tok, “And then camera turns, and you say…?”
Alanis turns the camera on Valentine, who scoffs while looking at Appie, “Such a fucking poser…” She says with all the vitriol she can muster.
“Perfect!” Appie shoots her two thumbs up as Alanis turns the camera back on him, “Then, I’ll begin to cry like this, wahhhh!” Appie cries exaggeratedly, then turns and takes a few steps towards the door. “Then I’ll run outside and that’s it, got it?”
“Got it.” Val and Alanis both say.
The three of them get into position, Appie with his back to the door, standing amongst all the clothes, Alanis starting the recording on her phone, and Valentine just off to side, waiting to deliver her line.
“Aaaaaand action!” Apson claps loudly. Alanis zooms in quickly to Appies face, he’s slouching, neck bent at an awkward angle to seem more depressed, the face he’s making makes him look dead inside, it’s exaggerated by the deep black makeup Alanis brushed around his eyes.
“Ik ben zooooo emo….” [I am soooo emo] Apson delivered the line as flatly as he could, adding a bit of a vocal fry to the ‘zoooo’. Alanis snaps the camera back to show his full outfit before zooming in on his face again for the next line, “Ik ben zoooooo depressief…” [I am sooo depressed]
Valentine held back her laughter, perhaps it wasn’t exactly her type of humor, but it was fun to watch!
Apson gave a big eyeroll to the camera, then looked into it, “Niemand zal mij ooit begrijpen…” [No one will ever understand me]
He suddenly grunts loudly, his expression growing more angry, “Ik zit de hele dag op mijn kamer naar muziek te luisteren, niemand begrijpt het!” [I sit in my room and listen to music all day, no one understands!] He yells.
The camera whips around to Valentine, she puts a disgusted look on her face and scoffs like she did the first time, “Such a fucking poser.” She shakes her head lightly.
Alanis whips the camera back around to Apson, he looks like he’s about to scream, “NEEEE!” He bursts into faux tears, and suddenly he turns to run out of the store. Alanis follows, and they pass the customers Valentine had completely forgotten were even in here! They seem completely and utterly confused and Val feels a little bad for them.
As Appie and Alanis cross the threshold onto the street, still filming, Appie still making wailing noises, he trips on his baggy pants and falls. Valentine gasps, Alanis keeps filming, and someone nearly hits Apson on the ground with their bike.
“Ik ben geen poser!” [I am not a poser!] Apson yells his final line, sobbing crying, clutching his elbow, and Alanis stops recording. She helps him up, they’re laughing as they walk back inside but it seems Appie actually got hurt.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” Valentine comes up to them, slightly stunned but also laughing.
“I’m okay,” Appie nods, then turns to the people at the front of the store who are just frozen in shock, “I’m okay!” He waves at them, and they slowly return to what they were looking at in abject horror.
“You’re bleeding a little,” Val frowns when she sees Apsons elbow, “Here, I’ve got a bandaid in my purse.” She moves over to the counter again, opening her bag and pulling out a bandaid for him.
Alanis takes it from her and opens it, “Thanks Valentine.” Appie says warmly.
“You’re welcome.” She smiles.
“I think I should pay for the shirt,” He says while wincing as Alanis applies the bandage to his broken skin, “Pretty sure I got blood on it.”
“Probably a good idea,” Valentine agrees, “April said you could film in the store, not bleed all over her products.”
“Want anything while we’re here, babe?” Apson asks Alanis, who brightens up immediately at the idea of getting herself a little something. “I’ll go get changed while you pick something out.” He says and walks into the changing room to get back into his clothes.
“Can I see your rings, please?” Alanis asks Valentine brightly.
“Of course!” She unlocks the jewelry case behind the counter and pulls out the rack of rings for Alanis to inspect. She picks up one and tries it on, examining her hand afterwards.
“So when will that video get posted?” Val asks.
“I think Appie will post it on Friday.” She studies the ring on her finger before putting it back and picking up another one. “We should be mutuals!”
“I’d like that,” Valentine grins at Alanis and pulls out her phone, opening tik tok and handing her phone to her. Alanis lets her follow both her and Apsons accounts, Val asks to be mutuals on instagram too.
“There!” Alanis says while handing Val’s phone back to her, “You can message me whenever you want to.”
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how it’s going:
The sun shines bright outside of Joosts window, he stirs back and forth for a few minutes before finally opening his eyes. The first thing he sees is his Stitch plushie sitting on the other side of the bed, staring at him. He reaches out and grabs it, bringing it to his chest and squeezes it in a bear hug.
“Goedenmorgen.” Joost grumbles while stretching, his head hurts slightly from a long night of drinking but mostly from the way the sun won’t leave his face.
He rolls over onto his back, picking up Stitch again, he stares at the plush toy for a while with his tired eyes, wondering if he’s weird for talking to it or cuddling with it every night. Wondering if that even matters at all. Wondering if it secretly means something about how lonely he is.
But Joost would do anything not to think about that subject, so he tosses Stitch aside and grabs his phone from the nightstand. It’s already passed 2pm and he’s missed at least 15 text messages between his friends.
Stuntje: “You coming out tonight again?” Stuntje: “Bro? U good?”
Tantu: “Beat coming along nicely👍” *1 image attatched*
Apson: “Made a banger post on tik tok! 😂” Apson: ��Please leave me a like boys, I bled for this one! 💀” -tap to see more notifications-
Joost sighs through his nose, opening the tik tok app, his therapist has been trying to get him to stay off tik tok first thing in morning but he can’t help it, especially not when his best friend just posted. It’s also not technically morning anymore.
He watches the funny dog video that pops up on his FYP first, liking it and scrolling to the next video. It’s some level 99 brain-rot meme about skibbity rizz in Ohio, he chuckles and leaves a like before scrolling. The next video is an ad and he instantly scrolls. Apsons video finally pops up:
@ apsonarmy posted 1hr. tagged: @ v4lent1ne @ aprilsclosetNL
emos be like 😂💔💀🤘 #emo #poser 10k likes
202 comments
1k shares
There’s big text on the top of the screen that says “EMOS BE LIKE 🧛”, and there’s Apson, fully looking like an e-boy, pretending to be moody and mysterious.
“Ik ben zooooo emo….”
Joost smiles, immediately liking the post. He watches his friend act on screen as the video plays, chuckling as his friends line delivery keeps getting more and more over-the-top with each sentence. And then the camera pans and he sees this girl on screen, she’s wearing tight, leather, flared pants, a grommet belt with a silver star belt buckle, a cute little cropped graphic tee that shows off her midriff, and some silver chains hanging around her neck.
“Such a fucking poser.” She sneers, her voice ablaze with attitude.
Joosts eyebrows shoot up, she has the most beautifully sharp eyes he’s ever seen, and this head full of thick, fiery hair, glossy lips, and gorgeous makeup. She was undeniable, whoever she was. The type of beauty that would end up in every magazines “Top 100 Most Beautiful Women Of All Time” list—No, Top 50, maybe even Top 10. And yet as soon as she was on screen, she was off. The camera points back at Apson’s dramatic reaction. Joost watches as the chaos unfolds when Apson begins running, trips, falls, nearly gets hit by a bike, screams “no” while lying on the streets of Amsterdam, and clutches his bleeding arm.
The video loops…and Joost watches it again. And again. And again. He’s actually not sure how many times he lets it play before the low battery notification snaps him out of his daze. He quickly taps it away, using his thumb to scroll back to the part where the girl calls Appie a poser. He pauses the video when her face is fully in frame and clears the tik tok display. She was breathtaking—literally, Joost was unintentionally holding his breath. He sat there enamored for a while, then brought the display back, checking the “tagged” portion of the caption to see her there, @ v4lent1ne.
Joost clicks on her profile so fast, just to be severely let down when he sees she only has one video available on her profile. He reads her bio;
“Valentine, 27, Designer, Amsterdam.”
221 32 101 Following Followers Likes
Followed by a link to the April’s Closet website. She hadn’t bothered to link her instagram to her tik tok. He clicks on the video, it’s just a cute little tik tok of her lip syncing to Korn in a nice outfit and beautiful trad-goth makeup, the date says it’s almost a year old. She doesn’t seem to have as much of that spark within her as she did in Appies video, maybe it’s because she was just acting for that, but she looked thinner in this old tik tok, maybe more tired somehow. He scrolled away once it looped.
“Valentine…” Joost sighed out loud, letting the name roll off his tongue while admiring her in her tiny profile picture. He went back to Appie’s video and opened up the comments, typing out “I agree, bros not emo, bros a POSER 🤣😂👍🔥” He immediately liked his own comment upon sending it.
Joost realized it was suddenly stiflingly hot under his blanket and that damn sun was still shining brightly on his face. He tossed the blanket off of him, letting the cool air of his room hit his skin, he looked down and saw he was half hard. “Shit…” Joost groaned.
He hopped out of bed and headed into the bathroom, he caught his own gaze in the mirror, messy bedhead, stubble growing in, dirty blonde roots showing through his bleached hair. A mess. But nothing a good shave and shower couldn’t fix.
Joost turned the faucet on in the shower, letting the water run for a minute while stepping out of yesterday’s boxers. His cock sprung free, hanging somewhere between half limp and nearly hard. His pink tip was blushing at him, begging him to give it a little attention. It’s been a week since he last jerked off anyway, might as well take care of it, Joost thought as stepped under the warm water.
He let the water run down his body, rinsing away yesterday’s sweat from the bar, yesterday’s arguments with festival bookings, yesterday’s dull thoughts that kept him numb and unhappy. All that mattered right now was his pretty dick perking up under the warmth of the water and what he was going to do with it.
Joost ran his fingers through his pubic hair, scratching lighting at the forest of hair there, slowly moving down to squeeze it at the base. He had no intentions of teasing himself today, but he couldn’t think of anything worth fantasizing about just yet. Perhaps a familiar pair of lips came to mind but he quickly stubbed out that thought. Too fresh. It was one video. He shouldn’t.
But as Joost slowly pumped his fist around his length, his mind kept wandering back to those same features, he couldn’t help but picture her—Valentine, apparently—gazing at him, watching him jerk off. Her eyes squinted at him, watching him jerk his cock faster now at the thought of her, she’d sneer at him the same way she did in Appie’s video.
“What a loser…jerking off to some random girl you just found on the internet? Pathetic.” He pictured her saying.
Joost wondered what her skin would feel like, what her skin would smell like—he stopped touching himself and pumped some body wash into his hand and lathered it on his cock, careful not to get any inside. The smell was obviously familiar to him, masculine and clean and filled the steam around him with its scent. It would do for now. He could picture Valentine smelling like this as he closed his eyes. He pictured himself standing in front of her, nude, while she was in that same outfit from Appie’s tik tok. He approached her, towering over her, though he couldn’t possibly know how tall she is, he looked down at her and her eyes flicked to his lips.
It’s barely even a lewd fantasy but Joost is stroking himself so fucking fast to it, the soap forming slippery suds under his hand with every long pump he takes. He wants to lean in and kiss her neck, right against her pulse, fuck—he can feel his own pulse in his cock right now. Valentine’s would match his. He cups her jaw and sticks his thumb in her mouth, she gladly suckles on it, it makes him moan out loud, “Fuuuck-“
Valentine sinks, slowly, so slowly, to her knees and looks into Joosts eyes. Joost is massaging the head of his dick now, he’s so close to cumming, just needs a little more. In his mind she takes him into her soft hand, enjoying the weight and warmth of him in her palm. And finally, she leans in to capture his tip between her gorgeous lips. Those fucking lips. With that, Joost is moaning and stroking himself so fast he is coming undone. His white ropes hit the bottom of the shower and get slowly washed away into the drain. He fucks into his fist, mind erratically imagining Valentine in a number of situations as Joost cums. Rapid flashing of doggy style, cowgirl, her tits covered in his cum, she’s just as breathless and red in the face as he is!
He uses his other hand to prop himself up against the wall, panting as the last beads of cum roll down his reddened tip. Breathlessly, Joost returns to reality, he drops his cock from his hand and lets the water beat against body. He’s less tense that’s for sure, but there’s a weird sense of guilt about it, Joost promises himself to never fantasize about her again. And he doesn’t. At least not while jerking off.
The first few days after Appie posted the tik tok, Joost would sometimes go back and watch it, but after a week, he became too busy. He forced Valentine out of his head. The weird, unfinished picture of her he created would still materialize from time to time, but she altogether slipped from his mind as the weeks and even months had gone by.
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how its going to go:
“Fuck,” Joost pants looking down at V, her lips are swollen and wet with their combined spit as Joost had all but swallowed her whole, the flavor of her grape lip gloss coating his tongue. Joost’s cock twitches in his boxers, “You know, the first time I saw you in Appie’s video you gave me a boner?”
Val lets out a strained laugh from her breathlessness, “Really?” Her fingers reach up to trace his mustache, the pads of her fingers barely grazing the skin of his lips. It feels like the touch of an angel.
“Ja.” Joost nods, still staring, kissing at her fingertips.
A low, erotic hum emanates from her chest, “I guess it was meant to be then.”
Something flashes in Joosts eyes when she says that, something so deep, it was like watching his brain chemistry change in real time. “You were made for me…” He whispers before dipping his head into the crook of V’s neck and teething a hard bite into her soft skin.
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[more coming soon ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜] -ego⋆♱✮
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fanbasetwo · 2 days ago
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Hii love! I couldn’t tell if your asks are open or not but I wanted to request reader having their first kiss with hao </3☹️
I love your writing so much btw! 🤍
NOTE : my asks are always open but you can still check it out on the pinned post where I do mention the ask status (if it's closed or not) this is my first hao ask btw + tysm for the compliment, I'm glad you enjoy my works 💕 MASTERLIST!!
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You and Zhang Hao had been together since high school. When it was time to grow up and explore job opportunities, the two of you managed to make long-distance work, though you’d always joked about who’d be the one to kiss first once you reunited. When Hao finally moved back to your city after landing a job, things shifted—not in a bad way, but definitely in a new direction. You both decided to live together because, honestly, after five years of dating, it didn’t feel like a big leap.
Still, there were moments of awkwardness, like when you’d share the same bed at night. Sure, you’d cuddle, but neither of you ever took it further—not because you didn’t want to, but because you were both too shy to take the first step. Every touch felt hesitant, every glance carrying the weight of unspoken feelings.
“Hao?” you whispered, nudging him gently. He was sprawled on the bed after a long day at work, clearly exhausted. You both split rent evenly, and lately, you’d noticed how much effort he put into his job. He hummed softly, his body shifting as he turned on his side to face you. Without a word, he pulled you closer, his arm draped around your waist.
“Did you have a hard time at work?” you asked, your voice barely above a murmur as your sleepy eyes met his. He blinked at you, his gaze warm yet hesitant, before one hand reached up to cup your cheek.
“It’s not work,” he said quietly, shaking his head slightly.
“Then what is it?” you pressed, your curiosity piqued.
He hesitated for a moment, his thumb gently brushing against your skin. “It’s about us,” he admitted, his voice soft but tinged with uncertainty. “Are you... not attracted to me anymore?” The question caught you off guard, and you frowned, trying to piece together why he’d think that. “Of course I’m attracted to you,” you replied quickly, your tone laced with confusion. “Why would you feel otherwise?”
He let out a small sigh, looking almost embarrassed. “Because... you never, you know... take any hints. And you don’t really drop any hints either. About wanting... my kisses.”
His words trailed off, his cheeks dusted with a faint pink as he avoided your gaze. You stared at him for a moment before giggling softly, the nervousness between you both dissolving just a little. “Is it because I smell?” he asked suddenly, his tone half-serious, making you laugh even harder.
“Hao, no!” you managed to say through your giggles, shaking your head. “I’m just... nervous.”
“Then... can we do it now?” Hao's voice was barely a whisper, his nose brushing against yours as his hand rested gently on your cheek.
“Right now?” you echoed, your heart racing at his sudden question. His shy yet eager nod made your cheeks flush, and though you wanted to take the lead, the thought itself made you feel timid.
“Okay,” you murmured, giving a small nod of your own.
Neither of you moved at first, the shyness between you lingering in the space where your breaths mingled. It was as though a silent agreement passed between you: close your eyes and let it happen naturally. You squeezed your eyes shut, nerves buzzing through your entire body. And then, it happened—a soft, fleeting brush of his lips against yours. The touch sent a jolt down your spine, warm and electric, leaving you breathless even in its gentleness.
Both of you were lying on your sides, facing each other, and though the moment was slightly awkward, it was perfect in its own way. You tried to remember the romantic scenes you'd seen in dramas and movies, hesitantly capturing his upper lip between your own. Hao followed suit, tentatively suckling on your bottom lip, his movements clumsy yet tender. The kiss was inexperienced, both of you unsure of what to do next, but that only made it more endearing.
Your lips moved together in a rhythm that was anything but polished, yet the emotions behind it made your chest feel tight in the best way. With every soft press, every subtle tilt of your heads, you felt your connection deepen.
It wasn’t perfect or seamless, but it was real, filled with the quiet love and nervous excitement you’d built over the years.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, faces mere inches apart as you opened your eyes. Hao’s lips were slightly parted, his cheeks glowing with a faint blush as he grinned at you.
“That was...” he began, trailing off as he searched for the right word.
You giggled, touching your lips lightly. “Messy?”
“Perfect,” he corrected, his gaze soft and adoring.
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bomberqueen17 · 2 days ago
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lurkey lurkey
so i had in my mind been like "when the farm season is over i'm gonna get so much done" and also in my mind been like "bitch be real i am going to be decompressing uncontrollably and will achieve nothing" and just as one might have predicted, i have split the difference, spinning wheels wildly and also achieving little.
i did do a final definitive trial of ADHD meds, long put-off because the season was too hectic, and decided that yes, my impression of July was correct, I suck at being medicated LOL
I did start publishing the 150k of incoherent fanfic I started writing in August while insane, and I might keep going on that; there's a small audience but a lovely one
and I really really did take the characters from that fanfic and shove them into a new story and I have written several tens of thousands of words of notes but in the last couple of days I actually think I have begun to write a draft. So.
If anyone is interested in possibly doing some beta-reading, even just cheer-reading, of a draft of an original novel about bisexual tall ship sailors in a solarpunk setting, I should mention that the stay-at-home wife is turning out to be the B-plot heroine (it might actually be the A plot) and the Admiral's sassy gay socialite husband is doing some heavy lifting I hadn't expected, but on the other hand, the children are less onscreen than I'd expected. And I'm not sure where the sex is going to fit in, if at all. But there is still an OT3.
So let me know about that. I'm not quite ready with a shareable draft but I'm two chapters in and cautiously optimistic that this is actually a story. Maybe?
But I'm about to head back to the farm for the turkey processing ordeal, which is a solid week of extremely hard work with a major holiday in the middle with family obligations and then more work immediately afterward, so I don't expect to have time to work on it for a bit. But it's ruminating in there, I promise.
I have a snippet, which is a first-- everything I've written so far I've hated upon rereading, so that's why I think I'm making progress. I've renamed everyone but kept the first names mostly, where I didn't swap genders. This is the opening of chapter 2, so we've already had Technology Backstory With Smart Wifey, and Action Sequence At Sea With Explosions, and now it's time for Character Backstories:
Someone shouted his name from down the street, and Tom laughed aloud, handed his datapad to the mildly alarmed merchant captain walking beside him, and turned, holding his arms out and bracing himself to receive the sudden arrival of thirteen stone or so of Yardley at full velocity. James always jumped and Tom always caught him, that was how it had worked since they were about thirteen, and he spun around to absorb some of the excess velocity and then kissed James soundly on the mouth before setting him down.  “Atkins, you fucker,” Yardley said. He’d knocked both their hats off. He was tan, straight off a run from around the Storms, and had been long-scheduled to meet them here. Constellation’s limping had slowed them down so much they were eight days overdue, so he’d likely been hanging around a while now. “I hear you have a good excuse for being late.” “I don’t know that it’s good,” Tom said, retrieving their hats and putting Yardley’s back on him. Then he realized it was the wrong hat, so he switched them. “But it couldn’t exactly have been avoided.”  James grabbed his face in both hands and kissed him again, and it could read as just friendly to a casual observer but Tom knew it was not, and smiled, curling his tongue wickedly but briefly behind James’s teeth before pulling back. James kept hold of his face and frowned. “You look like shit,” he said. “Thanks,” Tom said. “You look like you’ve been lying around Barka drinking and fu--” He rerouted the sentence, remembering they weren’t alone. “Making friends.” ���Well,” James said modestly, preening, “naturally.”
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crushmeeren · 23 hours ago
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Hello friend! I don't know if requests are currently open or not but GOD, I am a huge Halsin th0t and I just read your "Filthy things Halsin would say" with fem reader and I love the way you portray him, I NEED more😳 Maybe general nsfw headcanons, please? Anything you'd be comfortable with, really! Ofc if requests are closed or you no longer write for BG3, feel free to ignore this and regardless, thank you for your time and dedication❣️
hi friend, i appreciate the kind words! they are definitely open right now! i haven’t written for Halsin in forever, so it’s a nice change of pace, and i’m right there with you, he’s a gorgeous man lmao. i wrote this sort of quickly, so it may not be the best quality, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless! (ˆ ̳ , ̫ , ̳ˆ)
master list link
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ᝰ NSFW HEADCANNONS [ ༝ ft. halsin ༝ ]
Halsin, who waits until the moon is high in the sky to steal you from your tent. Who leads you deep into a secluded area of the woods, away from the nosiness and prying eyes of your camp mates. Who crowds in on you, backing you up until the scratchy bark of a tree pokes you through your shirt.
Halsin, who towers over you, who tilts your head up with a gentle grip on your chin. Whose hair flows with the soft breeze, tickling your neck when he bends down to press a hot kiss to your mouth. Who hums his approval when you press back eagerly, sticking your tongue into his mouth. Who shoves his big hands up your shirt to palm your tits and roughly squeeze until you’re shivering from the warm touch.
Halsin, who strips you bare and falls to his knees. Who’s so tall he’s still at the perfect angle to suck on your nipples, slick tongue circling them over and over, tugging gingerly with his teeth. Who settles on his heels, encouraging you to hook one leg over his thick shoulder. Who grasps your hands and rests them in his hair, clearly telling you to hang on. Who bites kisses along the soft skin of your inner leg, stopping to nuzzle and inhale at the crease of your thigh before placing the flat of his tongue to your perineum and licking all the way up to your clit.
Halsin, who gets your muscles tensing and shaking, one heel digging into his back, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and tugging as he eats your pussy so well you want to scream. Who holds your ass with one hand and slips two fingers inside you with the other, stroking your g-spot until you’re cumming on his tongue. Who works you through it, retreating once it’s over and telling you in a low rumble that “you taste as divine as nectar, little bear.”
Halsin, who gently declines your offer to repay the favor. Who instead requests that you ride him because his cock aches when he pictures your tits bouncing. Who says “please my heart, allow me to view you in all your glory as you take what you need and ride my cock.” Who lets you free him of his clothing and reclines against the trunk of the tree. Whose handsome features leave you starstruck in the light of the moon.
Halsin, who makes sure you’re stretched enough before guiding you down onto his cock. He couldn’t live with himself if he hurt you. Who grips handfuls of your ass and helps you bounce, thick biceps flexing each time he pushes you upwards. Who braces his feet on the grassy forest floor and meets you thrust for thrust, pushing his cock in as deep as it goes until you get impossibly tight and cry out his name.
Halsin, who showers you with praise and encouragement. Who moans and murmurs “gods, your pussy is as close to heaven as I’ll ever be. I can’t stop myself from spilling inside you, my dove.” Whose warm body cages yours afterwards, hugging you close to his chest as he waxes poetry to you until the lull of sleep drags you under.
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abbyofthefirenation · 2 days ago
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the writers really did such a poor job with arthur and gwens relationship. merlin and freya had more chemistry in one episode than arthur and gwen had across the entire series. the only times i really felt anything for their relationship was in the once and future queen and in lancelot de luc. and even in the once and future queen gwen goes off listing all the reasons why she doesnt like arthur and why they wont work and then theyre kissing that same episode? not to mention, it annoyed me when arthur made merlin prepare gwen breakfast and get her flowers in 5x10 despite gwen once being furious at him because he lied about making her dinner in 2x02 and now shes just like whatever.
it just felt like to me that their feelings for each other had no real development. gwen didnt even seem to like arthur at all in the first season, and even calls him a bully in the first episode. then she suddenly likes him and thinks he’ll be the greatest king camelot has had in le morte d’arthur? theyd barely even interacted before then. their relationship also seemed to come at the cost of gwens character in the sense that the more involved they got, the more gwen just became arthurs love interest and his advisor when they got married. the writers made an already dull relationship even duller. i swear arthur and gwen had more genuine affection for each other when gwen was evil than when she wasnt.
i also dont like how merlin and gwens friendship was basically forgotten. gwen annoyed me when she told arthur not to look for merlin in a servant of two masters and she seemed more concerned about the threat merlin was to arthur than about what happened to merlin. they just stripped gwen of pretty much all of her agency and made her into this perfect queen. of course arthur and gwen were going to get together because they were following the arthurian legend, but that doesn’t mean the writers couldnt have done a better job at writing their relationship.
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dumpywrites · 2 days ago
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Osculate - Jung Hoseok / J-Hope
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Prompt: You kissed someone at the party last night… but who?
Prompt request: HERE
Genre/tags: friends to lovers, producer! Hobi, slight drama, slow burn(?), mentions of cheating ex
Pairing: Hoseok x she/her reader
a/n: Welcome back Hobi <3 this is my first time writing about him! Also this turns to be longer than expected but we love the drama hehe
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The gentle touch. 
The soft feel of a pair of lips touching yours for a brief moment. 
You kissed someone at the party last night… but who?
The thoughts were going on circles in your head. 
The first thing you realized when you woke up was a pang of headache. Of course, you were supposed to listen to your friends. Maybe drinking gin straight from the bottle wasn’t such a good idea. Of course it was not, but your ex was in the function.
The worse part was that he couldn’t even be considered as an ex. It had been a little over six months since the whole drama with Jaehyun. You went through somewhat of a situationship with him. Honestly, you liked the guy, couldn’t exactly say you had strong feelings for him, but you both agreed to enjoy the flow and get to know each other at a slow pace. For two months you both did all things couples do without any label, but it was not the main problem cause you had a conversation before about it… right? WRONG. He had a girlfriend the whole time. What a joke. 
Truth to be told, you were not that upset to see his face there. To you, even though he had basically ruined your perspective of men forever, it was all in the past. You couldn’t forgive him but there was nothing you could really do, life was just like that sometimes. What disheartened you was your friends inviting him in the first place. 
You had only ever told the whole story to two of them, that being Namjoon and Jungkook. Namjoon was the one who you called the first second you found out, and Jungkook the next day since you knew Jaehyun from him after all. You hoped that telling him would at least make him consider their friendship and to not trust him anymore, but you continued to see him occasionally in the photos of their stories.
Maybe Namjoon and Jungkook never told the others about it, it wasn’t their fault that Taehyung didn’t know and decided to invite him to his birthday party. Who knows, who cares. You were on your sixth shot of the night and you were feeling emotional. Fuck your friends for being insensitive really. 
Soon after the shots turned into drinking directly from the bottle, the memories were quick to fade away in a blur. 
“How did I even get here…” You mumbled to yourself. You still had the mini dress from last night on, but you were wearing your hoodie on top of it. You wondered if this happened because the person who helped you knew where you kept your hoodies. Coming from the party, the only people who could possibly knew that information were probably Namjoon, but that man couldn’t drive to safe his life. Was it Jin? After all he also had been to your place a few times before to play some video games, at least he knew where your bedroom was. 
The noise coming from your kitchen did sound suspicious though. 
“Hoseok?!”
You were very surprised to find him, considering he had never been to your place before and you couldn’t remember any major interaction with him the night before. 
“Finally!” His smile almost blinded you. “You alright? Sorry I had to use your kitchen, but I made us some pancakes.”
“I’m fine, thank you… I uh… what happened?” You said, sitting down on your dining table. 
“You got super drunk last night, long story short I got you here. Namjoon helped but he had to leave. We were worried to leave you alone, so that's why I'm here. Thank God you got your keys on a carabiner on your belt, or else we wouldn’t be here.”
“Gosh, what happened in between?”
“Nothing much, you were just dancing around, spilled drink on Taehyung and his girlfriend, not sure it was an accident though, and unfortunately you couldn’t make it to the ladies restroom so you puked right in front of the door.”
“Shit…” You facepalmed. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.”
“Come on, I’ve seen you drunk before it’s fine.” He said while placing the pancakes on two different plates. 
“But it wasn’t like this.” You shook your head. 
“It’s fine.” He smiled, somehow the look in his eyes softened. “After what happened with Jaehyun, honestly… I get it.” 
“Oh.” You looked down to your lap. “Did Namjoon tell you?” 
He paused, finally taking a seat next to you on your small dining table. “You kinda told me last night…”
“Of course I did.” You chuckled, rolling your eyes. “Sorry for trauma dumping, I guess.” 
“You don’t remember anything?!” 
“I don’t remember anything after I finished that bottle of Bombay Sapphire.” You shrugged, bitting your inner cheek. 
“That’s… unfortunate.” He flashed a disappointed grin. “Although I must say, I’ve always secretly hated that guy for no reason, glad to finally have one.” He sneered. 
You looked at him amusingly. “Why didn’t you tell me before?!”
“Dunno, I just feel like I don’t have anything to backup my opinion and I saw how you looked at him. I just knew you wouldn’t listen to me anyway.”
“Fair.” You said with a spoonful of pancake in your mouth. 
“Hey, I’ve told you this yesterday but I’m gonna repeat myself again since you don’t remember anything,” He smiled, moving his body to face your direction. “It’s not your fault. He did that because he’s a bad person and that has nothing to do with your quality as a human being.”
You sighed. “Seems like I done told you my insecurities as well.” You threw a sad smile. “Thanks, I appreciate that.”
“If you ever need validation again, come to me. But I’ll be charging you next time.” He grinned and proudly opened his arms. 
You laughed. “The pancake’s lowkey fire though, I must say. I’ll treat you a meal next time.”
You ended up ordering some Chinese food while watching old Harry Potter movies in the background. Somehow the conversation just kept going and you didn’t know before that hanging with Hoseok was this much of fun. You even let him borrow an oversized T-shirt of yours before going home, since you felt bad that he was still with what he wore yesterday. 
You had fun and the question of a faint memory soon left your mind. Why bother? It was probably just a stranger that you would rather not know about. 
From later getting the meal you promised him, the friendship only continued to blossom more from there. 
**
It was a random day after work when you decided to join Yoongi and Namjoon in their studio. Hoseok was supposed to join later after visiting his parents. The cool thing about having producer friends was that you could basically get free early listen to various singers’ songs. And their studio being very cozy and spacious was also a plus point. The company they worked for was also quite chill about visitors. 
“Jimin just texted me, he said he wants to join just for the preview of the song I’m writing for Megan Thee Stallion.” Namjoon said after reading his text. 
“Isn’t his dance class not done until eight or something?” You asked. 
“He recently switched to morning shift, I heard. Something about being too old to teach in that hour.” Yoongi chuckled. 
“He always say that, but I just know he’s gonna be the healthiest when we are old, cause all of us have jobs that requires multiple hours of sitting down. Unlike him.” You said. 
“Ain’t that right.” Yoongi groaned, suddenly fixing his posture. “By the way, where’s Hobi?” 
“Didn’t he tell you? He’s visiting his parents so he’ll be a little late.” You replied. 
“Just found out about that now.” Namjoon replied, suddenly eyeing Yoongi suspiciously. 
“Well, he’ll probably just be an hour late so don’t worry.”
“You’ve been hanging out with him a lot, I see.” Namjoon said. “Even heard you calling him Hobi now too.”
“All thanks to that drunk accident, I found out over trauma dumping that I actually like hanging out with him.” You shrugged.
“Geez, don’t remind me. It was so hard to convince you to come home that day.” Joon complained. 
“Wait, speaking of that day…”
You had heard the story about when you got drunk and what happened in between. But none of their stories ever mentioned about you kissing someone, which was ironic considering that was actually the only part that you faintly remembered about that night. You were sure you were not dreaming, fantasizing even. You knew it was real. You just needed to know with whom it happened, if any chance your friend witnessed the scene. 
“Did you guys see me kissing anyone that night?” You looked at the guys back and forth. 
“You kissed someone?!” Namjoon gaped. “This is another news to me.”
“I didn’t even see you half of the party cause you were mostly at the dance floor and I never even left the table.” Yoongi said. 
You sighed. “I guess it’s probably just some stranger then. I just hope it’s not Jaehyun, because hell no.” You scrunched your nose in disgust. 
“Can’t be him, he was also mostly at our table. Only left after you spilled drink all over Tae and his girl. We got you home right after that.” Namjoon explained. 
“I need to thank you for that, cause heaven knows that fucker wouldn’t stop talking about his new job and how much pay he gets now. Like dude, shut up.” Yoongi rolled his eyes. 
“I don’t know if Joon or Jungkook ever told you but… something horrible happened between me and Jaehyun.” You looked at Yoongi. 
“I never told them, neither did Jungkook. We thought it wasn’t our place to say so. Looking back at what happened though, we should’ve said something. I’m sorry.” The taller guy said, looking at you with concern in his eyes. 
“It’s fine, I totally get it.” You assured Namjoon. “Me and Jaehyun used to have this situationship thing going on, until I found out that he has a girlfriend.” You said to Yoongi. 
“He has a girlfriend?!” Yoongi asked with widened eyes. You knew it was serious when he started to show a big reaction. 
“Yeah, I don’t think he intends to tell you guys about it too, to maintain his image and all.” 
“That shithead told us he only has two exes and barely go on dates.” Yoongi gritted his teeth. “Why are we still friends with him??? This is fucked up!”
“Jungkook didn’t know the whole story, it’s my fault.” Namjoon spoke again. 
“Guys, it’s fine… I don’t expect you to stop hanging out with someone just because they wronged me.” 
“Uh, you should???” Yoongi protested. “You are our friend too.” 
Your heart softened at the reaction. “I don’t want you guys to fight though…”
“We could just stop inviting him to our hangout.” Yoongi shrugged. 
“We need to tell the others about this, are you sure you’re okay with that?” Namjoon asked, his right hand patting your shoulder. 
“I guess it’s about time.” You sighed. “Just please promise me you’ll hold Jin down in case he wants to throw hands.” You folded your arms, holding back a smile. 
Namjoon laughed. “I’ll make sure of that.”
Just seconds later, you heard the door cracked open. 
“You guys are gossiping without me???” 
Hobi spoke as he entered the studio. He was wearing a jacket, which he took off right upon entering the room, revealing his black T-shirt that now seemed to be slowly transforming into a compression tee with him going to the gym lately. 
“Does he know?” Yoongi asked. 
You nodded. 
“What? What are you talking abou— Oh… don’t tell me it’s about that loser…”
Yoongi’s lips popped a “yup” while Namjoon just sighed. 
“We can finally agree that we should never invite him ever again now, right?” Hoseok said as he took his designated chair. 
“One hundred percent.” Namjoon said, nodding. “By the way, have you ask Hobi if he saw?” The guy pointed at Hoseok while looking at you. 
“Oh.” Your eyebrows raised. “Actually no, I haven’t. Hobi, did you see me kiss anyone at the party?”
Suddenly, the said guy choked on nothing. He quickly fixed his tinted sunglasses, only to then awkwardly take them off, putting them on the table next to his keyboard. 
“I’m sorry, what?!” Hoseok straightened his posture. 
“I’m sure it’s not that much of a surprise, you’re overreacting.” You chuckled. 
“I don’t know… maybe? Who knows. Do you even remember where it happened?” 
You looked at the guy with slight skepticism. “I don’t know. I can’t even remember the face. I remember the feeling??? If that’s not TMI.” You faked a cartoonish shiver. 
“Did you not… like it?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” You tilted your head slightly, pondering. “I remember feeling really soft lips, and I actually don’t remember disliking it in any way. But I don’t even know if I was the one who initiated the kiss.” 
“I see.” The guy turned away to face his computer screen. “At least you liked it.” 
“I guess so.” You shrugged. 
Jimin later joined as promised. Both of you quietly listened as the three producers continued on their work. You went out for dinner afterwards and Hobi offered to drive you home, since you used public transport.
There was a bit of oddity in his action’s that night towards you but you couldn’t put a finger on what. He just seemed a like he was holding back something and you didn’t know why. 
You also wondered since when did you start to notice how attractive Hoseok was. Had he always been this way? You were sure he did not change that much from the first day you got to know him. Because lately, he had been glowing, his smile looked extra bright, and the hair looked extra fluffy. 
Sure his fashion taste had developed over the years but he still looked pretty much the same. Maybe you were just dumb not to realize it sooner. Or maybe it’s the new workout routine. Yes, it must be that.
**
You found yourself hanging out yet again at the three’s studio. This time with only Hoseok, since he got something he needed to revise. You were nearby and decided to drop by with some pizzas, knowing how often these guys forgot to eat while working. After texting the group chat, you found out Hobi was the only one there, but the pizza had been bought anyway so you wouldn’t want it to go to waste. 
“Man, remember when you used to be such a fanboy for J.cole? Can’t believe you’re producing for him now. I’m so proud of you, man.” You took a bite of the slice of pepperoni pizza in your hand. 
“I know right? I can’t believe he randomly came across my SoundCloud archive.” He grinned happily. 
“You should try, you know… being an artist? You even dance well. Jimin’s words not mine.” 
“Nah, I don’t think I can handle the fame.” He shooed. “Besides, I don’t think I look good enough to be an idol.” He laughed. 
“Are you kidding me?!”
That sounded way too loud from what you intended. 
“Why? You actually think I look handsome or something???” He said with a judgy expression, almost as if he couldn’t believe you. 
“Hasn’t anyone actually told you that?”
“Uh… no, I don’t think so— why though???” He seemed truly curious. His eyes visibly widened and he scoffed closer with his chair. 
“Don’t fucking ask why!” You retrieved, actually moving away slightly on the couch. “It just crossed my mind, okay?”
He chuckled. “Are you actually being shy right now?” 
“No, I’m not!” You widened your eyes in horror when he got up from his seat, seemingly moving to sit next to you. 
“It’s fine, I get that you don’t actually wanna admit that I’m hot.” He smirked. 
“Aren’t you the same person who literally seconds ago said that he isn’t good looking enough???” You rolled your eyes. 
He took a slice and munched a big bite. He shrugged at you with a downturned smirk. 
“Forget I ever said that.” You scoffed. 
“You too.” He said after swallowing the food. “I think you’re attractive as well.”
You paused. The atmosphere had now suddenly turned thick. Your lips went tiny bit ajar, starring at him with an unbelievable look. 
“It hasn’t changed since the first time I met you. I’ve always thought you’re attractive.”
“Do not say stuff like that.” You looked away, feeling your body burning up, stomach roamed with butterflies. “You’re making me feel weird.” 
You didn’t know what you did but something changed in his eyes after you said that. His face was now only inches away from you. You didn’t think you had seen him looking this serious before ever in the whole time knowing him. 
It felt too weird, so weird that the back of your mind was quietly suggesting to claim his lips. The idea sounded odd but somehow not unheard at the same time. Should you be weirded out that you were thinking of kissing your friend or should you be weirded out by the fact that the thought of kissing him didn’t sound that preposterous to you? Your silly little brain could only handle so much. 
The sound of door knob turning saved you, or maybe not. Both of you instantly jolted and faced the direction of the entrance. 
“Am I interrupting?” Namjoon peeked. 
“N-No.” You awkwardly scooted away from Hoseok. “I thought you won’t be coming?”
“I left my hard drive.” The tall guy said as he moved towards his desk and grabbing the said item. 
“I see… Uh, do you want pizza? We still have some.”  
“Nah, just had dinner at home. You guys have fun though!” He gave a thumb up before exiting through the door. 
“Yeah, that’s weird.” Hoseok said, putting down his unfinished slice of pizza that he still had in his hand the whole time. “I’m sorry.” He giggled awkwardly. 
“I know right?” You laughed as well, but it sounded so fake that you internally gagged. 
That night the thought of his eyes looking at yours sent electricity down your spine. The butterflies in your belly kept you awake. 
**
After that, the mystery kiss never really crossed your mind again. At the end of the day, you were just glad it was not he who shall not be named. 
Just when your mental state was heading towards a better direction, your luck decided that you had to bump into the said guy, Voldemort himself, Jaehyun. God forbid a woman just wanted to grab herself some snack at a nearby convince store. Of course his new job was near your home, because why wouldn’t it be. The universe just loved to toy with you like that. 
“Y/N? Here let me get that for you…”
“No, thank you.” You forced a smile and shook your head at the cashier, signaling the lady to take your card. 
“It’s fine, they’re just biscuits anyway.”
“And I can pay them myself.” You said and quickly stormed away, hoping you would be left alone. 
“Wait!” He called, but you continued to walk out the store, unbothered. 
You squirmed in disgust when you felt his hand stopping you by your wrist. You stopped but shook his hand off immediately. “What?”
“Can we talk? I’ll be quick I promise.” He said, sounding almost begging. 
“No, there’s literally nothing in this world that can excuse what you did to me so I don’t want any further explanation.” 
“I… I feel so guilty. The past few months I’ve been so grossed out about myself…” He spoke out anyway. He looked at you with a pathetic expression. 
“You did something bad so of course you were supposed to feel awful about it. What part of this is my problem?” 
“I think you deserve a proper apology. So… I’m sorry.” 
“Are you still dating that girl?” You asked sternly. 
“No, we broke up due to distance.”
“Good. That innocent woman doesn’t deserve a lying and cheating fucker like you.” You folded your arms. “Is that it?! I would like to leave now.”
“Are you with Hoseok now?”
“What do you mean??? Are you out of your mind?! What made you thi—”
“I saw both of you kissing at Taehyung’s party.”
A few circuits in your brain just snapped because what in the fresh hell was that. All this time, the mystery man was Hoseok all along??? But he never once told you anything about it, even after you mentioned it. Is it embarrassing for him? Did he regret it? And worse, did you force yourself on him??? There were so many questions pilling up in your head. 
Seeing your zero response, he spoke again. “So, you’re not dating him then?”
“It’s literally none of your business.” You simply said before moving your feet to leave him in a flash. 
You were walking, running maybe? You couldn’t even think straight. You had not even reached your apartment complex yet, but you already took your phone out, calling Hoseok without giving it a second thought. 
“What’s up?” You heard the man picking up the call. “You don’t usually call…”
“I kissed you.”
The line went silent for some good second, before you heard him clearing his throat. “You finally remember?”
“Why didn’t you tell me???” You raised your voice. “I even asked you before!”
“It’s a lot more complicated than what you think.” He sighed. “And correction, we kissed. I kissed you back so you weren’t the only one doing the kissing here.”
Your heart skipped a beat. Maybe two. 
“Are you home? Can I come over?” You heard him sighing again. 
“Uh, yeah I am.” You bit your lips, feeling extremely nervous all of the sudden. “Sure, I guess…”
“Okay.” Was all he said before hanging up the call. 
You were now pacing back and forth at your apartment lobby. The security was already giving you funny looks and so did some of the passerby. You couldn’t care less though, because truthfully, your mind was filled with endless possibilities of what happened and how it happened. Deep down you were glad it was him, but the real question was did he feel the same?
By the time Hoseok arrived you were already sitting on the lobby sofa, clasping your hands together out of cold. The aircon and night air were not such a big help with your nervous sweaty palms. Not to mentioned Hobi in his casual clothes… you might be biased but still!
The walk to the lift and to your room was silent. You wanted so badly to make a small talk, but you couldn’t make yourself to open your lips. And the man who you knew as one of the most cheerful person out there, was dead silent as well, which was killing you. 
“Do you want to drink something?” You finally said after a few minutes of unwieldy silence between the two of you. 
“N-No need!” He shook his head. Did he just stutter?
“Okay.” You took a seat on your couch, in which he followed shortly. 
He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “At first I saw you crying silently near the toilet. You just left after the whole drink-spill accident and clearly were not walking straight. I was worried so I followed you there. By the time I reached you, you had already puked…”
“I’m sorry.” You cringed at the thought of him seeing you puke. 
“It’s alright. Fortunately, you didn’t dirty your clothes from it.” He smiled. “I helped you walk out from the club, and that was when you started telling me everything. I feel so bad that I couldn’t do anything about it other than listening to your cries. But a few minutes later, Jaehyun showed up.”
Your eyes widened. “What did he do?”
“Apparently he was looking to talk with you privately but never got the chance.”
“And what happened?”
“I told him to scram.” He chuckled. “Honestly, I’m proud of myself for not punching him in the face that day. How dare he appear right in front of me just minutes after I found out how much of an ass he is?!!” He said in disbelief. “But he refused to leave.”
“Oh…” You began to see where this was going. 
“He was saying a bunch of nonsense I couldn’t even recall, and just out of the blue, you grabbed me by the collar and just… kissed me.”
You blushed upon hearing the words coming out from Hoseok’s mouth. 
There seemed to be a light shade of pink on his cheeks. “I was so taken aback I didn’t know what to do. I mean… I couldn’t believe the girl I’ve been secretly crushing on just kissed me!”
Wait, what?
**FLASHBACK**
“I just want to talk to her!!!” Jaehyun insists. 
“She’s too drunk right now, so fuck off.” Hoseok spat out. 
“Then I’ll take her home.”
“Over my dead body.” 
And that was when you suddenly pulled him for a kiss. It all happened so quick, that even Jaehyun was also at loss for words, but Hoseok kissed you back, eagerly. That of course made Jaehyun even more uncomfortable, enough to make him finally leave the scene. 
The two of you didn’t stop kissing though. Not for a while. Despite being the sober one, Hoseok lost track of time by the touch of your lips. For a moment it was just you, and your friend, making out in front of a club entrance. The club was at the fifth floor of a building, so you were just kissing each other intensely, next to the elevator, against the glass window, like a couple of hormonal teenagers hungry for each other.
Anyone could see you, in fact, one of your friends might caught you on the act, but that did not stop Hoseok. What stopped him was the thought of you being heavily intoxicated. He did not want to take advantage of you, and clearly did not want you to think about him that way in any shape or form. And so he pulled away. 
“I’m sorry… that shouldn’t have happened.”
Your eyes looked glistening, cheeks red, and your lips were swollen. It took Hoseok almost everything in him to not just grab you and go back to kissing you like crazy. 
You looked up, staring at him with droppy eyes and started tearing up again. You just looked so helpless in his eyes. He was so desperate to ease your pain, but he had no idea how, or even if he were allowed to in the first place. 
“Hey, it’s not your fault… you know.” He sighed and took your right hand, intertwining it with his. “He’s a horrible person and that has nothing to do with you. You’re wonderful. You’re one of the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”
You only continued to sob, so he pulled you in and hugged you softly. He let you cry for a while before Namjoon and Jimin found both of you outside. They decided it was best if he took her home so Namjoon told him your address and followed Hoseok to his car. 
It was quite the struggle, supporting you and helping you walk to your apartment unit. By this time you were passed out already, so Namjoon offered to carry you, in which Hoseok volunteered in instant. 
Thankfully, your keys were attached to your belt, dangling by a hook carabiner you always liked to use, so it wasn’t hard opening the door. Namjoon opened the door and Hoseok laid you down on the sofa. He took off your shoes carefully before setting them aside. It didn’t seem right to just leave you like that so both of them thought it would be best if someone stayed. 
Long story short, Hoseok carried you to your bedroom. Saw your hoodie laying around and decided to put it on you and leave you in your room. The tiredness then caught up to him, so he crashed out on your couch. 
**
“And that’s all!” The man smiled at you. 
“Hobi, I…” You were speechless. “Thank you… first of all.”
“Don’t mention it. I was happy to help.”
“I didn’t know you have a crush on me…” You said while awkwardly avoiding eye contact. 
“At this point I don’t think it’s still a crush anymore…” He breathed out. “I like you, like a lot now.” He grinned happily.
You were once again too stunned to speak. 
“Well, now that it’s out of the bag, I hope it won’t make things weird between us…” He scratched the back of his head. 
“Jung Hoseok, I literally like you too.” You finally said, making you flushed so red that it reached your ears. 
“You do??? Forreal???” He grabbed both of your hands. 
“Yes, for real.” You giggled, still blushing. “Should we kiss again to seal the deal?” 
“Say no more!”
He stood up, which made you raised your eyebrow at him. But a yelp soon escaped your mouth when he suddenly lift you up, twirling you around before kissing you on your lips passionately. You smiled through it, kissing him back with equal devotion. His lips felt so familiar, but not because you had kissed him before. In fact, you barely remembered how it happened. It was because his touch made you felt secured, so safe, like you were finally at home. 
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Thank you for reading! 🪩
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