#I need time to properly sit down and write what I mean
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mossheadmandy · 2 days ago
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Lipstick traces
a/n: It's exams season, english is not my mother language, I haven't written shit in a long long while and I should be finishing homework I have to hand in tomorrow BUT I had to get this out of my system before going on with my life because I have been extremely upset with a situation that keeps me on a chokehold that has to do with breaking contact zero and be frustrated because I know what I want but I don't have the strength to let it go, so I made this fluffy ass fic to cope with the fact I havent' recieved the tenderness I crave. I know Eddie Munson would treat me right, but since he's not real the only thing left to do is to write about that thing I desire.
Anyway sorry to dump this on you, please enjoy. Title inspired by the song 'Lipstick traces' by UFO.
💋
Fluff, but no minors allowed in my blog. Alcohol, parties, a lot of kissing. Eddie is a sweetheart. Eddie is down bad.
Summary: Eddie Munson thinks you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen, and when he's given up on talking to you and you decide that you should to it for him, a mention about you not being sure about your nail color and a lipstick you bought, the night at that lame party you're at with him ends in a way he had only dreamed about.
Eddie has had his fair share of magazines he not so gentlemanly snuck up his room, celebrities were also a considerable source of female faces and bodies when watching movies, so he had a curated mosaic of pretty faces and bodies.
That's why he's absolutely sure you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen in his life.
Unlike Billy Hargrove's mean statement of all girls in Hawkins being utterly hideous, Eddie thinks every girl has a tiny bit of magic that makes them all pretty, he could admit that even when a girl wasn't his type, but whenever he thinks of you, there's no one who can hold a candle to you; to your pretty eyes that twinkle under the dim lights of the ass that is The Hideout whenever you come to see him play; to your pretty lips that pucker whenever you drink from a glass soda pop bottle; to your pretty laugh that launches a kaleidoscope of butterflies whenever the pride makes his chest swell any time you find something he said slightly funny.
Of course you wouldn't look his way, he thinks to himself when a tall guy musters the courage to come talk to you in that dumb party he doesn't even know why he let Robin convince him to come to.
He's all muscles and pearly-white teeth while talking to you, and you look so pretty with your dress loosely hanging from your hips and your nails painted a pretty red that looks like Maraschino Cherries, glistening under the lights whenever you move your hand to sip from your beer. He can't help but to stare at your fingers and wonder if it would be terrible to ask you to play with his hair, just for the sake of it. You didn't have to do anything else, he'd be happy with you just doing that.
And he's so lost in thought about your pretty fingers having his curls twirled around them, just as he is wrapped around your finger without even trying, that he doesn't notice you crossing the living room to get to where he is, sat on a sad, stained couch with a bottle of beer trapped in a tight clutch of his ringed hand.
"Hello?" You call while standing near him tilting your head since your first attempt to get his attention didn't work, and it makes him snap out of it, glancing up with wide eyes and scooting to let you sit. He didn't need to, though, there's no one else sat there, but it's like he's scared to be near you, as much as he longs to be.
"Hi!" he replies with the excitement of a little boy seeing an actor in full costume of a character he loves, high-pitched and nervous before clearing his throat to greet you properly and give you a stiff smile that he doesn't mean to come off as such. "Hi." he says firmer this time.
You don't seem to mind, sitting next to him, scooting just a little closer when you adjust your dress, and his hips are flush against the armrest, nowhere to escape you.
"Why aren't you mingling?" You ask too softly for his heart to handle.
"Well... you know parties aren't really my scene. But they have crazy good beer, so I'm just... enjoying it my way."
Bullshit, he just wants to be near you but you were clearly busy.
"Right..." you nod with a smirk that states you really don't believe him, and he appreciates that you don't push further.
"That... guy with the jacket..." he starts ungracefully, regretting the words the moment they leave his lips, because it wasn't really his business.
"What about him?" you ask casually.
"You were talking to him."
You look at Eddie with narrowed eyes, trying to decypher what he's trying to tell you, why was he stating obvious actions and why does he look so nervous while asking something so seemingly innocent.
"I was, yeah."
Eddie doesn't dare to look at you. You see, he only looks at you when you aren't looking at him, looking pretty and oblivious, when you're busy doing something else during the group hangouts and you're entertaining some douche that would never know how to treat you right. He would treat you right, he's convinced, but every little scenario played in his head ends with you rejecting him politely, because you're nothing but.
"Uh... and now you're here." he stutters, making a fool of himself while still completely sober.
You chuckle, taking a swig of your beer and relaxing against the back of the couch.
"That bothers you?" you ask with an attempt of teasing but a hint of concern, because what if he really just wanted to have a moment for himself with good beer and you completely ruined for him?
Now Eddie does look at you, and he looks offended by your question, because why would it ever occur to you that you could bother him? Please, bother him.
"No, no... I... No, it' doesn't. You don't bother me." he's quick to clarify, eyes wide with that needy flash that's begging you to simply continue existing next to him at this lame ass party.
"Okay... you got me worried for a second." You sigh, genuinely out of relief when he confirms that you're okay, that you don't bother him. That would pain you, and he's not aware of it.
Eddie exhales too, heavier and with the ghost of a scoff because who would ever feel bothered by your intoxicating presence?
He takes a swig of his beer too, not really knowing what to say next, so the small talk that comes next makes you furrow your eyebrows, out of confusion, more than anything.
"I like your nails." he cringes as soon as he compliments your nails, even if it is true and he can imagine the taste of the syrupy cherries when he looks at the color once more as your free hand lays flat on your thigh and your fingers flex to look at your nails.
"Yeah? I don't know, they're too bright. They look like Maraschino cherries."
Eddie laughs. Not because what you said was particularly funny. It was, to him, and it would probably be to any person around because you're so pretty and funny.
"I was... I was thinking the exact same thing."
You join him in his laughter and cover your mouth with your hand, a mannerism you don't have but felt compelled to only to show off your nails.
"But in a good way. I like them a lot, they suit you."
And you smile at him so sweetly that he swears he could start melting on that damned couch right then and there, and he'd have to rubbed off like wax on fabric, scraped out and discarded.
He nervously sips on his beer while glancing away, suddenly finding a group of people he doesn't know the most interesting subject of study.
You scoot closer to him until your knee brushes against his and he's looking at where that happens, a pink blush dusting his cheeks before his eyes meet yours.
"I don't know if they match my skin."
Your next move has him thanking every god he's sat and surrounded by pillows, because if you had done that while standing up, his knees would have betrayed him and he would have been kissing the floor. Your hand comes to rest on his cheek, but you're not looking into his eyes, you're looking at your own hand, studying the shade of red against his skin. Are you really doing this right now?
Eddie swallows hard, studying your face, looking for signs of anything, really. Of you doing this as a joke, of you actually studying the color, of you doing this as an excuse to touch him... Nah, that can't be.
The moment your hand leaves his face, he wants to scream, and he almost chases your palm, almost, but he still has dignity, he still knows what he's doing. Yet, he nervously downs the rest of his beer, glancing away from you once more.
You don't look away, your eyes skimming over his pretty face, looking for signs too. Of discomfort, of disgust... but see none, and you breath.
The beer in your hand gets emptied too, and he's already up the couch, palm open towards you to and fingers crooking to gesture you to give him your empty bottle. You do, nodding a silent 'thanks'.
"Want another?" he asks with that voice that reeks of feigned nonchalance, but you don't pay too much mind to it.
"Yes, please."
Eddie nods and marches to the kitchen, because yes, another beer is needed, but also because he needs a moment to recompose so he doesn't decompose next to you.
You're gorgeous. The prettiest girl he's ever seen, and the prettiest girl was sat next to him on that lonely couch, being pretty and talking to him. The prettiest girl he's ever seen had to come to him because he couldn't gather the courage to do it himself, not tonight, not any other night you're hanging out with the rest of the group.
He's leaving the empty bottles on a scratched counter and reaching to find two more. Not a brand he likes, if he could describe the taste, it would be urine. Not like he had tasted urine, but-
"Pshhhhhhh"
Eddie winces and jumps when a freezing, wet sensation mets his cheek, and he flinches away wiping the water off.
Robin is grinning cheekily with an ice-cube in a soft grip, laughing all raspy and amused.
"That's what it sounds like when you splash water on a scorching surface." she remarks while dropping the ice-cube to the kitchen sink.
"Uh-huh..." he mutters, popping the bottles open with his rings.
"You're blushing so hard it melts the ice and makes it go 'pshhhh'..."
"Got it." he gives her stiff, tight-lipped smile.
Robin rolls her eyes, but her smile remains. She knows about his infatuation with you, and will tease him about it any time she can.
"Any progress? Are you talking about the weather?"
Eddie scoffs, ready to make his way back to the couch.
"I'm getting her a beer, because she asked me to get her one."
He offered to bring you one, actually, but he looks so offended about Robin's assumption of his own inability to hold a conversation with you that he has to say anything that saves him. He doesn't need to, Robin just wants to annoy him.
"Like the loyal dog you are."
And Eddie really can't say anything to defend himself, because he is. He'd do anything you asked him to.
He turns around on his heels, not giving Robin the satisfaction of a reply, strutting back to where you're waiting for him, his heart sinking when he sees another guy talking to you on that same couch you had touched his face.
Now, he knows he can't be jealous, he can't really say or do anything against it because you were just talking and whatever thing this guy was saying to you, he probably deserved it ten times more than Eddie, because he actually approached you. Eddie didn't.
But you don't really seem invested in watever thing he's saying, because the moment Eddie comes closer to the couch, your eyes light up and your pretty smile is directed at him and only him. It's your thigh pressed against his, not the other guy's.
He wants to be smug about it, but he doesn't feel like pushing his luck over something that he might be reading too much into, so he simply hands you the beer he promised and all of your attention is back at him.
"You're back." you comment with a pretty grin.
"I'm back." he repeats before taking a swig of his new beer, wincing slightly at the unnecessarily bitter taste.
You watch him wince and get curious, sipping and mirroring his expression. It tastes like shit, but it's free alcohol, so none of you comment on it, simply share a look of disapproval.
The guy leaves with a scoff and you both glance at him momentarily, watching him walk away towards another girl, and you giggle. Wind-chimes in Eddie's ears, absolutely sure that was the sound greeting people in the gates of heaven.
You decide that you really don't like the taste and leave the bottle forgotten on the floor, the host would find it later, or tomorrow, and would toss the contents in the sink. You give Eddie an apologetic look that he dismisses with a soft shake of his head and a small smile.
"I think I want soda..."
He's ready to get up the couch and get that soda for you, but you get up first, and he looks at you a little confused.
"Let's get it and talk outside, I'm getting bored."
His heart sinks a little, because he doesn't like the thought that the only thing you've been doing has been talking to him, and therefore, getting bored. Was he boring you? Was it his fault? He didn't want to bore you, didn't want you to think that spending time with him was all a waste, and you seem to catch on his overthinking, because you're moving to the kitchen with a soothing smile on your lips.
"I can't be sat all the time, you know."
Oh. Yeah. You were getting bored of sitting. Of course, that made sense.
Eddie couldn't help the relieved sigh that leaves him as you clarify and he follows you like a lost puppy to the kitchen, where you retrieve a soda can and jerk your head to the door, beckoning him to follow you outside.
It smells like freshly mowed lawn and cigarette smoke, and you settle to sit on the grass near a tree, far enough to still hear the music but hear Eddie better when you talk.
"I tought you couldn't be sat all night?" he arches an eyebrow, but sits next to you anyway.
"On that old couch and surrounded by yelling drunkards. The grass is nicer."
He chuckles, trying to keep his eyes off the exposed skin of your thighs now that your dress has hiked up a little, and he fidgets with the short grass, plucking it with her free hand and holding his beer with the other.
You start talking and his ears perk up, looking at your face and unable to tear his eyes away. He is paying attention to you, as much as he can, at least, trying not to get too distracted by the way your nose scrunches when you laugh, how your eyebrows turn downwards with a disbelieving huff of a chuckle to something he had said, how your wet teeth catch a little bit of light when you grin and how you cover your mouth immediately after, cackling with him and using any chance you have to touch him, give him a light smack over a silly joke, rest your fingers on the bare skin of his knee over his ripped jeans, things that he thinks you're doing out of reaction, oblivious to your purposeful touches.
You glance back at him, noticing he's already looking at you, and if you're catching the signs he throws unknowingly, not as slick as he thinks he is, then you could definitely land the next move. You fish inside your purse to look for your lipstick, opening it and taking the applicator out, the creamy product catching the light as you made it twirl on your fingertips.
"I got this too, but I'm not really sure about the color either."
Eddie looks at the tube and then at you, downing the rest of his beer and leaving the empty bottle behind him.
"Why do you get things you're not sure about?"
You shrug, pulling out your pocket mirror to apply some. You smack your lips softly and look at him turning your face to the sides.
"How do I look?"
Gorgeous. Because you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen.
You look gorgeous without lipstick, and you looked gorgeous with faded lipstick, what makes you think you'd look anything but, with the lipstick on? You could easily pull off a bright yellow lipstick.
"Good, it looks good."
He states nervously, attempting nonchalance and glancing away.
You did like the color, you were just making an excuse.
"I don't know... perhaps it's my skin color. I don't think it suits me."
"No, no, it does. It absolutely does. You're... it looks really good."
He wants to say more, wants to say what he's thinking, but he doesn't, because even if you've spent the majority of the night with him and this party felt less lame thanks to your company, he was still thinking that maybe you were just being nice?
You scoot closer, staring at him and propping on your knees.
"I don't know, I still need to see it in contrast."
And with that, your hands are on the side of his face, pressing a kiss on his cheek to imprint your painted lips on his skin, letting them linger for a few seconds before pulling away.
Eddie's brain short-circuited while processing what just had happened, looking at you with wide eyes and mout agape, trying to come up with something to say. Or should he remain quiet? He can't do anything else anyway. You were the prettiest girl he's ever seen and you just had kissed him?
You act like nothing happened, once again studying the color contrasting his skin. Your kiss mark looks beautiful on his cheek. It's really nothing about the color, it's nothing about the contrast, it's simply because it's him and the lipstick it's yours, and you smile at the sight.
"Uh..." it's the only thing he can mutter and muster, looking at you like he's trying to process the fact that you kissed him by choice, no one made you do it, there was no lame spin the bottle game or a challenge, you did it because because you wanted to. Didn't you?
"It looks pretty. I decided that I like the color."
You with your elbow pressed against your folded thigh and your cheek resting on your palm, you stare at him, and can almost hear the decoding in his head, so you just wait with that pretty smile that he thinks could light up the whole town.
He doesn't really know where he got that courage, but when he finally breaks free from the initial astonishment, he looks back at you and smiles, not without fidgeting with the grass a little before speaking.
"Well... maybe you like it because it's on my cheek... Why don't- uh... Why don't you... try it on my actual lips? It might not look as good."
And you pause for a second, like you need a second to process that The Eddie Munson, who's always awkward around you and the one that never comes to you, is actually saying that to you, and you really, really have to laugh.
He looks at you with a small smile, half-awkward and half- amused, because yes, your laugh is contagious and make his taste in music questionable because no melody could ever come close to the heavenly arrangement your laugh was, but also because what if he messed up and you really just wanted to swatch your lipstick on his cheek with no other motive?
But when only giggles are left in the aftermath of your laughter, you do come closer to him, and he has to quite literally touch the grass to ground himself and make sure he's not dreaming, and when your hands frame his face, he's sure his cheeks could actually scorch your soft palms, but he doesn't move, just waits for you to do whatever.
"That's true. Lipstick is made for the lips after all." you purr near his face, leaning in with your eyes fixed on his lips.
"Y-yeah... I mean, it's... textually in the name." he agrees with his own eyes staring at the painted culprits of the pretty imprint on his cheek.
You wait for a few seconds, only to take him in, to truly observe his pink cheeks and the brown marbles he has for eyes that look at you so fondly, and he thinks that you might be second-guessing your choice, close to reassure you that you don't have to do this, your lips are pressed against his in a soft, tentative kiss.
Eddie might have just gone to the prettiest meadow, bathe in the purest water inside the clearest pond, surrounded by fairies that giggle and throw flowers at him the moment your lips touch his, and as if to make sure you really are there, his hand fly to the nape of your neck. It takes him a little to kiss you back, because despite being the one who suggest it in the first place, he's still unsure of you being sure, but eventually he's moving his lips against yours, and you're surprised of how good it feels, how good of a kisser he is. Maybe to him it's not really about knowing how to move his lips but about slowly, carefully taste every second you gift to him, to commit every graze and brush and sigh to memory and explore you. Respectfuly, of couse. He could never be anything else to you.
You pull away and lean back to look at his lips, to admire the smudged lipstick around his mouth, how he slowly flutters his eyes open to look at you with wide, lovesick eyes and pink cheeks, and he stares at the messy lipstick around your lips too. You pull out your mirror again to check yourself, giggling at your state when you notice the faded color, wiping around with your fingers to try to make yourself presentable.
Eddie's lips are the color of your lipstick, not as saturated but colored, and he looks at you while you fix yourself, mouth agape and dreamy eyes. When you reach out to wipe his mouth, he retreats, and it makes you chuckle in confusion.
"What?" you ask with an arched eyebrow.
"Are you kidding? That's... It's tonight's badge of honor, I'm not lettin you wipe this off. I want everyone to see your lipstick on me and know that you kissed me."
Your smile turns into a full grin, and your eyes twinkle with amusement and a flash of something that dies before Eddie can decypher what, but you're suddenly reapplying lipstick and smacking your lips to even out the color, packing it again an sitting in a more comfortable position when Eddie spreads his legs to make a little spot for you, which you gladly take.
"Then I should leave some more, huh? To make sure the marks are even." you smirk as you press another kiss to his other cheek.
Eddie ends up with imprints of your lips on his cheeks, cheekbones, the corners of his lips and smudged color around his lips for the rest of the night as you continue kissing, tasting the alcohol and sugary soda on each other's tongues, your fingers tangled in his frizzy mane and his hands resting on the small of your back, afraid of letting you go just in case you're a mirage caused by the cigarette smoke and the moonlight.
You pull away to take some air, pecking his lips one last time before looking at his eyes, and he'd swear every time you looked at him he'd be nothing short of combusting.
He blinks a few times, still dazzled by your kisses and your scent and presence and everything that had to do with you, and you giggle, your fingers still tangled in his hair, admiring your artwork.
'Lipstick Traces, by UFO'. Lipstick on skin. Yeah, that's the name.
He lets out an airy chuckle while you look at him and uses the time to do the same with you, taking in your features and your lipstick smeared around your own lips, wishing this night could last a little longer. Maybe forever. He's not sure you'll want to do that again.
But then you lean in to press various pecks on his lips, one after the other, and you're looking at him with such fondness and hold on to him so firmly that he almost thinks you want more, that you can't get enough of kissing him, and he's no one to deny you. Especially you, the prettiest girl he's ever seen.
"Eddie... I don't want to wait until another party to kiss you again."
He blinks once more, nodding slowly.
"Okay."
"I'd like to kiss you again tomorrow."
"Okay." he repeats.
"Would you like to kiss me tomorrow again? At the movies, maybe?"
"Okay."
"Do you know any other words?" you tease him.
Eddie blushes, because he keeps making a fool of himself in front of you without really being drunk, and because not only did it have to be you the one approaching him and making all the moves, but you also had to be the one to ask him on a date.
"Yeah, I know other words. I know many words. But I always forget them when you're around." he confesses sheepishly.
"That's why you never talk to me?" you ask while tilting your head with your pretty smile.
"Part of it, yeah."
Eddie pauses to take you in once more, embarrassed to admit this to you, thinking about the fact that you notice him, you notice him not talking to you first and his heart swells when he thinks of you thinking of him, wondering why he doesn't talk to you, and he then wonders how long have you been thinking about it, if you had waited for him to make a move on you, to talk to you first. He wants to punch himself for that, for possibly making you think that you weren't interesting or that he was being rude to you on purpose.
"And what about the rest?" you ask softly, playing with a strand of his hair and making it twirl around your pretty fingers. Just the way he was imagining it.
"Huh?"
"What else makes you not talk to me?"
He has to regain some thought before answering, because the main reason why he didn't talk to you before is because he doesn't want to creep you out, he knows a lot of girls think he's weird and a creep, but you had kissed him tonight, spent the whole night with him, drinking with him, leaving pretty marks of your pretty lips on his face with your pretty lipstick, you wouldn't be, right?
"I just think you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."
You pause and the faintest shade of pink dusts your cheeks before you burst in laughter.
He joins you nervously, because he's not sure he's said something remotely funny, and he hates to think that you're laughing at him, but when your lips land on his one more time, he stops thinking.
"I think that was pretty damn cheesy." you whisper against his lips.
"I'm sorry." he whispers back.
Kiss.
"I'm not complaining. It just took me by surprise."
Kiss.
"So... I'll come pick up the prettiest girl I've ever seen at 7:00 o'clock. How does that sound?"
"She'll be ready."
Eddie smiles against your lips and lets you guide the kiss like you have all night, and when it's time to leave and he offers to drive you home, there are some bystanders that nod at him in approval when they see the lipstick marks on his face. It looks messy, but it's perfect, you've alredy wiped off the remnants of lipstick from your own face and had neatly reapplied some because you keep thinking of him wanting everyone to see that you kissed him, so you want to make sure that it's not faded so the shade on your matches the one on his face. You obviously do it for him, it's not like you want everyone to know who was the perpetrator of those kiss marks, of course.
When he pulls over on the street oustide your house, you leave a last kiss mark on his jaw, and wave goodbye to him before hopping off his van, crossing the driveway and getting inside.
He sighs with a wide smile before driving away, replaying every event of tonight, and he's pretty sure he can still feel your lips on every spot you kissed and marked, and he can't wait to see you again.
You're the prettiest girl he's ever seen, and he's going to sleep to probably dream of you and kiss you some more in his dreams, and tomorrow, he's taking you to the movies.
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thelioncourts · 8 months ago
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theonottsbxtch · 21 days ago
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TEEN IDLE | MV1
an: god this idea came to me while listening to teen idle by marina and lowkey kinda liked where i ended it, so i hope you enjoy it just as much and i won't write a pt 2 to this- unfortunalety for me my beloved friend hasn't proof read this one so apologies
wc: 2.8k
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MAX VERSTAPPEN WAS RAISED FOR THIS. Before he could walk, he was sat in a go-kart; before he could read, he knew the weight of a steering wheel in his hands. His father made sure of that. Other kids had footballs, bicycles, summer holidays. He had telemetry sheets and tyre wear reports.
He was bred to be a champion, and so he became one.
By twenty-eight, Max had won everything there was to win. Multiple titles, records shattered, his name etched into the sport’s history books. And yet, looking back, it all felt like one long, unbroken blur—an endless series of podiums, press conferences, mechanics’ murmurs, and the relentless pressure of being the golden boy.
He could barely remember what it was like to be young, not properly. There were flashes, though. The sharp, acrid scent of petrol in the garage. The weight of his father’s expectations pressing down on him like a vice. The way his stomach had twisted before every junior race, knowing that second place was never good enough.
And then there were the times he could barely remember. That he should remember.
He had been seventeen, teetering on the edge of adulthood but feeling nothing like a man. She had been older—how much older, he wasn’t sure anymore, but old enough for it to feel like something forbidden. He’d told himself it was what he wanted, that he needed to do it. To feel something, to prove something.
Afterwards, he had stared at the ceiling, waiting for some grand revelation, some fundamental shift inside him. It never came.
He didn’t feel like more of a man.
And now, sitting in his driver room in another city, another race weekend, another meaningless milestone approaching, he wonders if anything ever really has.
He saw himself in the mirror across the room, still in his race suit, half unzipped, the fireproofs underneath clinging to his skin. His hair was damp, sticking to his forehead. He looked older than he remembered. Maybe it was the lighting. Maybe it was the exhaustion.
Maybe it was just the truth.
His phone vibrated on the bedside table. Another message he wouldn’t answer. He knew what it would say. Some journalist fishing for a quote. Someone from the team reminding him about media duties. A half-hearted invitation to drinks he had no interest in.
He ignored it.
Instead, he let himself sink back into the mattress, staring at the ceiling, replaying it all again. The wasted years. The wasted youth. The pretty lies, the ugly truth.
He had once thought that if he just won enough, if he proved himself enough, it would all start to mean something. That the hollow feeling would go away. But it never had.
He remembered being ten years old, crying in the back of his father’s car after a race he should have won. The slap, sharp and stinging. If you want to be the best, you can’t be weak.
He remembered being fifteen, standing on the top step of the podium, trophy in his hands, cameras flashing. His father’s arm around his shoulder, grip just a little too tight. See? This is what you were made for.
He remembered being seventeen, sheets tangled around his legs, a woman whose name he barely knew tracing her fingers down his chest. Was that what you wanted?
He hadn’t known what to say then. He still didn’t.
His driver room was silent except for the faint hum of the air conditioning, the city lights seeping through the gap in the curtains. He had spent years surrounded by noise—engines screaming, crowds chanting, his father’s voice drilling into his skull—and yet, in the quiet, he still heard it all.
He exhaled, long and slow, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. It was easier not to think. Easier to let the days blur together, one podium, one interview, one flight after another.
But some nights—like this one—he couldn’t help but wonder if he had ever really been alive at all.
He stayed there for a while, sprawled across the bed, staring at the ceiling as if it might give him some sort of answer. It never did. The room felt too still, too clinical, the kind of place designed for fleeting stays and nothing more. He had lived in hotels and motorhomes for most of his life, but none of them had ever felt like home.
Eventually, he forced himself to move. Peeling off his fireproofs, he let them drop to the floor, stepping over them as he made his way to the tiny en-suite. The mirror above the sink reflected someone he barely recognised. Shadows clung beneath his eyes, and a faint red mark on his forehead from his balaclava made him look even more exhausted than he felt.
He turned the tap on, splashing cold water onto his face, then braced his hands against the sink, head hanging low. He needed to get out.
Throwing on a plain t-shirt and an old hoodie, he grabbed a cap from the side table and pulled it low over his eyes. It was enough to make him anonymous—just another man slipping into the night, nothing special.
The paddock had mostly emptied by now, a few lingering mechanics finishing up for the evening, murmured conversations carrying through the cool air. He walked with purpose, shoulders hunched, hands stuffed into his pockets. No one stopped him. No one even looked twice.
By the time he reached the edge of town, he found what he was looking for. A pub, run-down but still open, the glow of neon signs flickering in the window. It wasn’t the kind of place anyone from the paddock would go, which was exactly why he chose it.
Inside, the air was thick with the smell of stale beer and cheap cologne, a low hum of conversation and the occasional scrape of a chair against the floor. A few old blokes sat hunched over their pints, barely sparing him a glance as he made his way to the bar.
“Can I help?” the bartender asked, barely looking up as he wiped down the counter.
“Whisky,” he said, voice hoarse from a day of interviews and radio calls. “Neat.”
The glass clinked against the wood a few moments later. He took it without a word, moving to a quiet corner, away from the dim overhead lights.
He took a sip. It burned on the way down, but at least it made him feel something.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, nursing the drink, letting the noise of the bar blur around him. Long enough for the ice to melt, for the world outside to fade into nothing.
For the first time in a while, he felt like nobody. And somehow, that was a relief.
The whisky went down too easily. He swirled the last of it in his glass, watching the way the light caught the amber liquid, then tipped it back, letting it burn its way down. He wasn’t drunk, not yet, but the edges of everything felt softer. Less sharp. Less real.
He was about to signal the bartender for another when she appeared. She slid into the seat opposite him without hesitation, eyes flicking towards the entrance before settling on him.
He barely had time to register her presence before a man followed, taller, broader, the kind of bloke who walked like he owned the room. The girl didn’t look at him, just leaned forward, resting her arms on the table as she spoke.
“See, I told you my boyfriend was waiting for me.”
Max didn’t move. Didn’t react. But he caught the way her fingers curled slightly, gripping the edge of the table just a little too tight. The man hovered for a second too long, gaze shifting between them, then exhaled sharply through his nose.
“Right,” he muttered, before turning and stalking back towards the bar.
She waited until he was gone before she relaxed, shoulders dropping ever so slightly. Then she looked at Max properly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
“Thanks for that,” she said, not sounding particularly sorry.
He didn’t respond, just pushed his empty glass aside, already regretting getting involved in whatever this was. But she didn’t seem bothered by his silence. She tilted her head, eyeing the glass, then raised a brow at him.
“What are you drinking?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, shifting slightly in his seat. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk, least of all with a stranger who had just used him as an excuse to shake off some bloke she clearly had no interest in.
But she ignored him, her eyes flicking to the last few amber drops in his glass before he could move it out of sight.
“Whisky,” she said, like she had figured him out. Then, before he could protest, she got up and strode towards the bar.
He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He should leave. Finish the last drops, disappear into the night, let her deal with whatever mess she was in on her own.
But when she returned, setting a fresh glass down in front of him with a quiet clink, he didn’t move.
“Cheers, boyfriend,” she teased, raising her own glass.
He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head slightly, but picked up the drink anyway.
For now, he stayed.
She took a sip of her drink, watching him over the rim of her glass. He could feel her curiosity, the way she was studying him, trying to fit him into a story in her head.
“So,” she said eventually, setting her glass down, “do I get to know my fake boyfriend’s name?”
He hesitated. It was a simple enough question, but it felt like a trap. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the whisky. Maybe it was the way she had just waltzed into his night without permission, without expectation. But before he could stop himself, he said, “Emilian.”
It was his middle name. He didn’t know why he hadn’t said Max, that was far more common that Emilian.
She raised an eyebrow. “Emilian, huh?”
He nodded once, taking a slow sip of his drink to avoid looking at her properly.
She didn’t question it. Instead, she leaned back in her chair, tilting her head slightly. “Alright, Emilian. What are you out drinking for?”
He considered lying again. Saying something easy, something normal. But the truth slipped out before he could think of anything else.
“I’m tired,” he said simply. “Needed a break from work.”
Her expression shifted slightly—not quite pity, but understanding. “Bad day?”
“Long day,” he corrected. “Long… few years, actually.”
That made her huff a quiet laugh. “Yeah, I know that feeling.” She took another sip, then rested her chin on her hand. “What do you do?”
He should have said something vague. Something non-committal. But the whisky was settling in now, loosening the grip on his thoughts, and the lie came out before he even knew why he was telling it.
“I’m a mechanic.”
It felt strange, saying it. Unfamiliar, but safe.
She hummed, tilting her head. “Huh. Thought you might be something like that.”
He frowned slightly. “Why?”
She shrugged. “Dunno. Just got the vibe.” Then she smirked. “Or maybe I saw the oil stains under your nails.”
His pulse jumped for a second before he realised she was joking. His hands were clean—too clean, probably, for someone who supposedly worked in garages all day—but she didn’t seem to notice.
“Must be a stressful job, if it’s got you drinking alone,” she added, watching him over her glass again.
He exhaled, glancing down at the whisky in his hand. “Yeah,” he said, and for the first time that night, it wasn’t a lie.
He rolled his glass between his fingers, watching the whisky catch the dim light. Then, without really thinking, he asked, “What about you? Why are you out this late?”
She exhaled through her nose, tipping her head back slightly. “Was walking home from a wake,” she said, matter-of-fact. “Then that bloke started following me, so I figured I’d use you.”
There was no shame in it, no hesitation. Just a casual admittance, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She took another sip of her drink, then smirked slightly. “There’s always some sad sod drinking alone somewhere.”
He let out a small laugh at that—barely more than a huff of breath, but it surprised him nonetheless.
“Lucky me, then,” he muttered, shaking his head.
She raised her glass slightly in mock toast.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The bar buzzed around them, low conversations, clinking glasses, the occasional burst of laughter from a table near the back.
Then he asked, “Who died?”
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t shift uncomfortably or drop her gaze.
“My dad.”
He blinked. “Shit.”
She shrugged, swirling the last of her drink.
“Sorry,” he said automatically, but even as the words left his mouth, he was already wondering—how would he feel if his dad died?
Would it be relief? Would it be grief? Would it be anything at all?
She must have seen something in his face because she let out a dry laugh. “Don’t apologise,” she said, tipping her glass towards him before downing the rest of it in one go. “He was a right old cunt.”
That made him snort before he could stop himself. He coughed, shaking his head as he took a sip of his own drink. “Christ.”
She grinned. “I mean, it’s true. Everyone was there, saying all this bollocks about what a great man he was, and I was just sat there thinking, what a load of shite.”
Max watched her, the way she spoke so bluntly, so freely. He tried to imagine standing at his own father’s funeral, people saying things about what a hard man he’d been, how much he’d sacrificed for his son, how proud he would have been.
He wasn’t sure he’d believe a word of it.
She leaned forward slightly, eyeing him. “Bet you weren’t expecting that answer.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “No. Can’t say I was.”
She smirked. “Well, you don’t look like the type to have a good relationship with your dad either, so…”
His grip tightened on his glass for half a second before he forced himself to relax. He didn’t reply.
She didn’t press.
Instead, she raised her empty glass, tilting it towards him. “Another?”
He should have said no. Should have left while he still had the sense to.
But he didn’t.
“Yeah,” he said, finishing the last of his whisky. “Go on, then.”
And just like that, he let himself sink a little further into the night.
The air was crisp as they walked, the quiet hum of the city settling around them. The streets weren’t quite empty—there were still a few late-night stragglers, people spilling out of pubs, voices carrying in the cool night—but it was calmer now, the chaos of earlier fading into something softer.
She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket, tilting her head back slightly as she walked. “Where you staying, then?”
“One of the hotels by the track,” he said, not thinking much of it.
She let out a low whistle. “Bet that’s a nightmare with the F1 on. Must be packed. Loud as hell.”
He huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Something like that.”
She hadn’t connected the dots. Maybe it was the drinks, or maybe she just didn’t follow motorsport enough to care. Either way, he didn’t correct her.
They kept walking, neither of them in much of a rush to get anywhere. Her bus stop wasn’t far, but she didn’t break pace, didn’t cut the night short. Neither did he.
It was nice, in a way, walking with someone without expectation. Without small talk that felt forced or questions that felt intrusive. Just two strangers, filling the quiet.
Eventually, the bus stop came into view. She slowed, glancing up at the electronic sign before rocking back on her heels slightly.
“Well,” she said, turning to him, “this is me.”
He nodded. “Right.”
She looked at him for a moment, like she was considering something, then just smiled. “Thanks for the drink, Emilian.”
He let out a small breath of laughter. “Yeah. No worries.”
The bus pulled up, doors hissing open, but she didn’t move straight away. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, eyes scanning his face like she was trying to work something out. Then, without another word, she stepped onto the bus.
He didn’t ask for her number. She didn’t offer.
The doors shut, and he stood there for a moment, watching the bus pull away.
Then he turned and started walking back towards his hotel.
The night was still. The world felt quieter.
And for the first time in a long while, so did he.
the end.
taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @isaadore
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deonsx · 3 months ago
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helloo there!!♡, I really love the way you write. I'm wondering what it would be like if sae,rin,kaiser, have a gf who is a cosplayer, tyy♡!
Hiii dear!! Have a nice read and thank youuu^^
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Rin Itoshi
Rin had come home early from practice. As soon as he opened the door he heard strange noises coming from the living room. When he walked in he found you sitting on the floor trying to shape a large piece of cardboard. The room was a mess with hot glue guns paints fabric scraps and oddly shaped foam pieces scattered everywhere
“What are you doing?” Rin asked with a curious expression. You looked up at him. With a smudge of paint on your face and messy hair you smiled brightly. “I’m working on a new cosplay. This is going to be a piece of armor” you said holding up the cardboard. Rin raised an eyebrow. “Armor? That thing needs a lot of work before it even looks like armor.”
“Don’t tease me!” you retorted. “This is just the base layer. It still needs painting hardening and detailing. Rin chuckled. “Alright alright. But why does the entire house look like a battlefield? Do you even know what you’re doing?”
Though you looked a bit offended you could tell Rin was getting interested. “I watched some YouTube videos and read a few guides. It’s a bit challenging but I’m learning. Plus it’s fun”
Rin sat down next to you and picked up the piece of cardboard you were working on. “If you’re going to put in this much effort at least do it properly. You need to cut this cleanly with a craft knife” he said grabbing a knife and showing you how to do it
After that day Rin couldn’t help but get involved in your project. Sometimes he’d point out mistakes saying “You’re doing it wrong” and other times he’d grab a paintbrush to help you add finishing touches
When the cosplay was finally ready you put it on and showed Rin the completed look. As you posed excitedly you noticed the surprised look on his face. “Alright” he said after a moment “I thought it was silly at first but… it actually looks really good”
“Really?” you asked your eyes sparkling with hope. Rin shrugged. “Maybe. But after all that effort I guess I can’t say anything against it.” At the convention your armor caught everyone’s attention. People stopped you to take pictures and compliment your work. Rin stood a step behind you a small smile on his face keeping an eye on the crowd to make sure no one crossed any boundaries
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Sae Itoshi
when you first mentioned your passion for cosplay he didn’t think much of it. “Cosplay? You mean dressing up as fictional characters?” he asked one day his tone calm but slightly curious “Exactly!” you replied with excitement. “It’s a lot more than just dressing up though. I design the outfits build props and sometimes even compete. It’s a hobby but it means a lot to me”
Sae gave a small nod. “If it’s important to you that’s fine. Just don’t expect me to dress up” You laughed at his response knowing it was his way of acknowledging your interests without diving too deeply
A few weeks later you were preparing for a convention. Your living room was a workshop with fabric glue guns and foam scattered everywhere. Sae walked in and paused his sharp gaze taking in the scene “You’ve been at this for hours” he commented setting his bag down
“Yup” you said not even looking up from the detailed painting you were doing on a prop. “The convention is in two days and I want this to be perfect” Sae sighed softly walking closer. “Does it really need to be this detailed? No one’s going to notice if it’s off by a little”
You shot him a playful glare. “Oh they’ll notice. Trust me cosplayers have an eye for detail” He didn’t reply but leaned down to pick up one of the finished pieces. “It’s impressive” he admitted after a moment. “I didn’t realize you made all of this yourself”
The day of the convention Sae offered to drive you there. As you stepped out of the car in your fully completed costume he couldn’t help but let his eyes linger for a moment. You looked stunning the outfit perfectly capturing the character you were portraying “You’re really into this aren’t you?” he said his voice softer than usual “I am” you replied with a bright smile. “And I love it”
At the convention Sae stayed in the background watching as people approached you for photos and compliments. He observed the way your face lit up every time someone admired your work. Despite his usual stoic demeanor he felt a subtle sense of pride
Later as you both sat down to eat he spoke up. “You’re talented. I don’t think I could have the patience to do something like that” You grinned. “Coming from you that’s a big compliment.” Sae smirked faintly. “Don’t let it go to your head”
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Kaiser Michael
“You dress up as fictional characters and make all this stuff yourself?” he asked, spinning one of your half-finished props in his hand like it was a trophy.“Yes, Michael” you replied, rolling your eyes at his tone. “It’s not just dressing up. It’s crafting, designing, and bringing something I love to life. And no, you can’t break that it took hours to make”
Kaiser smirked and placed the prop back carefully. “Relax. I’m just admiring your… creativity” A few days later, he strolled into the room while you were sewing fabric for your next costume. His golden hair was slightly tousled, and he leaned casually against the doorway, watching you work. “So, when’s this big event of yours?”
“This weekend” you answered, not looking up from your work “Perfect. I’ll clear my schedule” he said with a grin. You looked up at him, surprised. “You’re coming?”
“Of course” he said as if it were obvious. “I have to see how good you are at this. Besides, you’ll need someone to make sure your fans don’t get too close”
The day of the convention, Kaiser arrived in style, dressed impeccably as always. When he saw you in your finished cosplay, his usual cocky smirk shifted into something softer. “I’ll admit” he said, circling you like a critic. “You look incredible. Almost as good as me” “Almost?” you teased, raising an eyebrow “Fine” he said with a mock dramatic sigh. “You look better than me for now”
At the convention, Kaiser stayed by your side, his presence impossible to ignore. People stared as much at him as they did at you, but he didn’t seem to mind. Whenever someone asked for a photo with you, he’d step aside, arms crossed, observing like he was the one managing your image
“You know” he whispered at one point as you posed for a group shot. “You should’ve told me earlier. I’d have joined you in costume. Imagine us as a power duo unstoppable” You laughed, shaking your head. “This is my thing, Michael. You already have football”
“But you’re my girlfriend” he said with a wink. “That makes everything you do my thing too” By the end of the day, you were exhausted but happy. Kaiser drove you home, still talking about how “you stole the show” and how “everyone was lucky to witness your brilliance”
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Enjoy!
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clarii · 3 months ago
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Always Near
Summary: You’ve always been there for JJ, but when he pushes you away, everything changes. With time and distance, the weight of unspoken feelings grows heavier for both of you. Can broken bonds be mended, or will the past stay in the way?
Pairings: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Angst, tension, hurt/comfort, and a soft, heartfelt ending.
Author’s Note: This is my first published story, and I’m so excited to share it with you! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it. Feedback is always welcome! Also, I hope you guys had a great holiday!
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The summer heat was unrelenting on the Outer Banks, but the Pogues were used to it by now. Sunburns and sweat were part of the deal, as was the endless chatter among the group. You were nestled into your usual spot on the HMS Pogue, sitting across from JJ Maybank. His sun-bleached hair glinted in the sunlight, and you couldn’t help but grin as he tried—and failed—to tie a fishing knot properly.
“Need help, pretty boy?” you teased, your voice light, even though your heart felt heavy with unspoken feelings.
“Got it,” he replied, flashing you that mischievous smirk that never failed to make your stomach flutter.
Everyone knew about your feelings for JJ. It was as obvious as the freckles on his sun-kissed face. You made no attempt to hide it, either. Why would you? From the matching bracelets you had made for the two of you to the way you always called him nicknames, it was clear you adored him. JJ was your world, even if he didn’t see it that way.
The Pogues teased you mercilessly for it, though never in a mean-spirited way. Even JJ seemed to tolerate your affection, brushing it off with jokes or lighthearted jabs. But deep down, you couldn’t help but wonder if he ever thought of you the way you thought of him.
The incident with Barry changed everything.
Tensions were high after the fight to get JJ’s stolen money back. Bruised and angry, JJ lashed out at anyone who got too close. You’d followed him after he stormed off from the group, wanting to make sure he was okay.
“JJ, wait,” you called, jogging after him. “You can’t just run off like this.”
He whipped around, his blue eyes blazing with frustration. “Why not? What do you care?”
Your heart sank, but you tried to push through his anger. “Of course I care. You’re—”
“Enough!” he snapped, his voice cutting through you like a knife. “Stop trying so hard, okay? Stop always being near me, always fussing over me. It’s suffocating.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and cruel. You stared at him, feeling the tears prick your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “Fine,” you whispered. “I’ll stop.”
And you did.
After his outburst, you’d done what he asked. You pulled away. Stopped calling him nicknames. Stopped showing up at the chateau with snacks or little gifts. And JJ didn’t come after you, at least not at first.
But that didn’t mean it didn’t bother him.
“Something’s wrong with you,” John B said one night as they sat on the porch, watching the stars.
“I’m fine,” JJ replied, fiddling with the bracelet you’d made him.
John B raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been off for weeks. You’re not yourself.”
JJ hesitated, staring at the worn beads on his wrist. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” John B pressed. “You miss her.”
JJ sighed, leaning back against the railing. “Of course I miss her. But it’s not like I can just fix it. I screwed up.”
“So, apologize,” John B said simply.
“It’s not that easy,” JJ muttered.
“Sure, it is,” John B shot back. “Stop being a coward and tell her how you feel. You’re miserable without her, JJ. Everyone can see it.”
JJ didn’t respond, but that night, as he lay in bed, John B’s words echoed in his mind.
It wasn’t easy to get you to talk to him again.
The first time he tried, you brushed him off.
“Can we talk?” he’d asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.
You didn’t even look at him. “I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”
“Please, Y/N.”
You hesitated for a moment, your eyes flicking to the bracelet still on his wrist, but then you shook your head. “No, JJ. You told me to stop, so I did. Now you have to live with it.”
Weeks later, after that conversation you found yourself back on the beach with the Pogues. The tension had eased slightly, but things between you and JJ were still strained.
As the group sat around the fire, JJ caught your eye from across the circle. This time, he didn’t ask for permission. He just stood up and walked toward you, his expression more serious than you’d ever seen it.
“Y/N,” he said quietly, “can we talk? Please?”
You sighed but stood up, letting him lead you a little way down the beach.
“What do you want, JJ?” you asked, your voice tired.
He didn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed on the sand. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” you asked, crossing your arms. “For telling me to stop trying? For making me feel like I wasn’t enough?”
JJ winced. “For all of it. For being an idiot. For pushing you away when all you were trying to do was help.”
You blinked, taken aback by his honesty.
“I didn’t mean any of it,” he continued, his voice cracking. “I was angry, and I took it out on you. And when you left, it made everything worse. I didn’t realize how much I needed you until you were gone.”
“JJ…” you started, but he cut you off.
“I know I don’t deserve it,” he said, stepping closer. “But I need you to know that I’m sorry. And I—I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, but I was too scared to say it. Too scared to admit that you’re the best thing in my life.”
Your breath caught in your throat. “You love me?”
JJ nodded, his blue eyes shining with emotion. “Yeah, I do. And I know I don’t deserve another chance, but if you give me one, I promise I’ll never take you for granted again.”
For a moment, you just stared at him, your heart pounding. Then, slowly, you reached out, your fingers brushing against the bracelet on his wrist.
“I loved you then,” you said softly. “And I love you now. But if you screw this up again, Maybank, I’m done.”
JJ’s face lit up with relief, a grin spreading across his lips. “I won’t. I swear, sunshine.”
And as he pulled you into his arms, the sound of the waves crashing behind you, everything felt right again.
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Walk The Line.
Carmen gets a little jealous. You don’t mind in the slightest.
roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader
warnings - smut. cursing. semi public antics.
word count - 2.5k
authors note - ask and you shall receive 😌. i’ll never get enough of roommate!carmy. i’ll be writing him forever. <3
as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3
series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.
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He’s a little out of his depth, admittedly.
The invitation had been slid under your front door, pretty handwriting on creamy paper.
“A… party?”
“Does it say party, Carmen?”
“No, it says ‘mixer.’ What the fuck is a mixer?”
You laugh, scrubbing a mark off the final dish in the sink before placing it down in the drying rack. Carmy is sat on the counter across the kitchen, reading the invite over and over.
“Seriously, babe. The fuck does mixer mean? So it isn’t a party?”
You dry your hands and make your way over to take the paper from him, eyes scanning over it carefully.
“A mixer is like… a get to know each other thing. It’s sort of like a party, I guess, but not really. Just a casual gathering type situation.”
“Sounds fucking stupid,” he grumbles.
You smack his shoulder, rolling your eyes.
“Lighten up, asshole. It could be fun.”
“Fun? You think having a mixer with all the neighbours from our building on a Friday night is gonna be fun?”
“I think it sounds like an incredible time. My ideal evening. I can’t wait.”
You can’t even pretend not to laugh, grabbing onto his thigh to keep yourself balanced. He puts his hands on your shoulders, trying to look serious, but the grin fighting its way up his cheeks gives him away.
“You really wanna go?”
“Carm, if it’s terrible, we’ll just lie and say we’ve got plans elsewhere. We’ll run away screaming if we need to. It might be good for us though, to meet our neighbours properly. It’s good to get to know them, just in case we ever need anything.”
“What, like a cup of sugar? What is this, the thirties?”
“When you’re testing recipes and fucking them all up, you might be grateful to be able to nip next door and borrow a cup of sugar.”
“I don’t fuck recipes up.”
“No? Then why were you yelling at a lavender and oat crème brûlée last week?”
“It was mocking me,” he grumbles under his breath, hanging his head.
You can’t help but laugh, moving closer to stand between his manspread legs where he still sits on the counter. You brush a piece of hair back from his forehead, tracing your index finger in a featherlight touch down the bridge of his nose. He looks down at you, eyes glued to yours.
“I know for a fact you don’t have anything else planned on Friday,” you whisper.
He rolls his eyes but leans into your touch anyway, where you’re still tracing along the features of his face.
“You promise we can leave if it’s terrible?”
“We literally live in this building. We can just walk up the stairs and be home.”
He huffs, but relents.
“Fine. But please don’t leave me alone with all of the middle aged moms. They love me.”
“Oh, I’m sure they do,” you giggle, leaning in to rest your head on his chest. His arms encircle you, pulling you as close as he can.
Is this scene too intimate for roommates? Without a doubt.
Do either of you care? Not in the slightest.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
It’s not as bad as he thought it’d be.
The middle aged moms have pulled through, actually. The lobby is decorated with fairy lights, tables covered in alcohol set up against the walls. Everyone has a drink in their hand, chatting and mingling amongst themselves.
You and Carmen walk downstairs a little late. He’d finished his shift and run home to shower and make himself look semi presentable before facing the neighbours.
“We need a signal,” he says suddenly, right as you reach the staircase. “In case of emergencies.”
“Pat your head.”
“Real subtle.”
“It doesn’t need to be subtle, it needs to be noticeable for me.”
“Fine,” he mutters, bumping his shoulder into yours. “Don’t leave me alone with that Erica lady. She scares me.”
“Yes sir,” you mock salute, slipping your hand into his momentarily. “You’ll be fine, Carmen. Like I said, we’ll just leave if it’s awful.”
It’s not awful, actually. It’s quite fun.
It’s nice to get to know the people in your building, seeing as you have lived there for a couple of years now. Carmen has been there even longer.
“Excuse me, sweetheart?”
You turn around to be met with an old lady, leaning carefully on her cane.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“I’m Dorothy. I live in 2B, and I just had to tell you that you look beautiful in your dress.”
You smile, pulling out a chair for her, which she takes gladly. You sit down next to her, spotting Carmy chatting with a couple of guys across the room.
“Thank you so much!”
You introduce yourself, telling her your name and apartment number.
“Ah yes,” she hums in recognition. “You live with your boyfriend who has all the tattoos.”
You almost choke on your drink.
“We’re just roommates,” you say eventually. “But yes, that’s him.”
“Oh, my apologies. I just assumed.”
You’re curious, suddenly. You know you shouldn’t be, but you can’t help yourself.
“Can I ask? Why you… thought we were dating?”
She chuckles knowingly before placing a hand on your knee.
“Honey, he’s got a hand on you at all times. He looks at you like you are the sun. Every time you walk past my window, you’re both laughing. Sounds like love to me.”
Her bluntness is refreshing, if not a little intimidating. No one will say it how it is more than a little old lady who can’t mind her business.
“We, uh… we’re close. He’s a good roommate. A good friend.”
She doesn’t look convinced in the slightest, chuckling as she pats your leg.
“Uh huh. That’s what I said about my husband - real good friend. We’ve been married 58 years.”
You smile, shaking your head.
“Is he here with you?”
“He’s upstairs. He can’t really leave the apartment, these days.”
“You know, if you ever need anything, me and Carmen would be happy to help.”
“No, sweetheart, I couldn’t ask you to-”
“-you’re not asking me, I’m offering. Carmen is an award winning chef at one of the best restaurants in this city. He’d be more than happy to make a meal or two when needed. And I can pick you guys up stuff from the grocery store when I go, too.”
“Thank you,” she whispers, grabbing your hand in her frail one. “You’re good kids, you two.”
You grin at her, squeezing her hand gently.
“You know where I am, if you need me.”
She nods, standing up carefully.
“I’m going to go see if that handsome Jeremy will come and fix my shower for me. He did promise.”
You laugh, watching as she makes a beeline for one of the dads stood in a huddle. You catch eyes with Carmy, who’s still chatting away with a few of the younger guys. He winks at you, all cheeky and carefree, and you can’t help but flush, heat prickling across your skin. You shake your head, smiling, winking back.
Suddenly, there’s a hand on your bicep. You spin sideways, to be met with the sight of a very handsome man. Dark hair, big brown eyes, tall - he looks slightly like a movie star you can’t quite remember the name of. You crane your neck to meet his gaze, smiling softly.
He holds out his hand to introduce himself.
“Hi, I’m Daniel.”
You tell him your name, trying to ignore how his hand engulfs yours.
“Pretty name for a pretty girl.”
You laugh, shaking your head.
“Have you lived here long? Think I’d remember a face like yours.”
Now he shakes his head.
“A month, maybe. I live in 6C. I’ve been working a lot, so haven’t had any time for introductions.”
“Ah. What do you do?”
“I’m a model.”
Of course he is.
“What do you do?”
As you start to tell him, his eyes fix on yours, not leaving for a moment. He listens carefully, both of you blocking out the noise and focusing on each other.
Turns out, Daniel is good company. The two of you find a spot in the corner, away from the noise and the wine drunk moms. The two of you laugh, joke, and talk about Chicago as if you’re old friends. Time slips away from you easily, conversation flowing with minimal effort.
“I don’t want to leave, trust me… but I have a super early call time tomorrow. If you wanted, we could grab a drink sometime, somewhere that’s not our buildings lobby?”
You laugh, nodding.
“Yeah, I’d like that. It was nice to meet you, Daniel.”
“You too. Here,” he says, handing you a small business card with his number on, “text me.”
“I might do just that,” you tease as he walks away grinning.
You’re on your way to grab another drink when a hand slinks around your wrist.
“Hi, Carmen.”
You don’t even have to turn to know who it is, recognising the feeling of his calloused hand against your soft skin.
“Where’s your friend gone?” he all but grumbles.
“He’s gone home, got to be up early for work.”
“Haven’t we all.”
“Ooo, okay Mr Attitude. You’re not having a good night? You didn’t give me the signal.”
“Would you have noticed if I did?”
You spin around to face him properly now.
“Yes, I would have. Because we’re in a tiny fucking lobby and not a football stadium, Carmen.”
He huffs.
“Didn’t think you’d notice if the building fell down, the way you were lost in his eyes.”
“I know it’s a foreign concept to you, Carmen, but eye contact is actually a very important part of conversation. Try it some time.”
Carmy rolls his eyes, grip on your wrist tightening.
“Come on,” he mumbles. “Wanna show you something.”
He practically drags you up the stairs, and up some more, and up some more. Eventually, you reach the roof.
The sun is just setting, casting the city in a warm orange glow. Everything is so calm, so peaceful, so serene. It’s beautiful.
You’re admiring the view when suddenly your feet are no longer on the ground. Carmy has you over his shoulder, carrying you across the rooftop to the brick wall.
“The fuck are you doing?” you cry as he finally puts you down.
He smashes his lips to yours, choosing to shut you up rather than answer you. You kiss back eagerly, confused but not disappointed at the turn in events. Slipping your hands into his hair, you tug him into you, groaning as he grabs at your ass.
“Carmen,” you breathe, “why don’t we just go home?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” he mumbles against your neck, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. When he bites down, you smack his shoulder.
“No marks, asshole. The fuck is up with you?”
Again, he says nothing, just slips his hand under your dress to run his fingers over your underwear. You part your legs instantly, leaning back into the wall to steady yourself.
“Carmen, someone’s gonna see if they come up here.”
“Well then you better come quickly.”
He slips your panties to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat. You keen, knees buckling already.
“Oh baby,” he chuckles. “This all for Daniel?”
It all clicks for you suddenly.
“That’s what-” you choke as he slides a finger into you. “That’s what - fuck - has you so riled up? Daniel?”
“Don’t say his name when I’m knuckle deep, baby. It’s rude.”
You attempt to scoff, but it comes out as more of a moan when he presses his thumb to your clit, circling carefully.
“Am I not giving you what you need, honey? Is that it? Greedy girl just wants more, so she looks elsewhere to get it?”
“No,” you justify quickly. “You know that’s not true.”
“If you can still form sentences, I’m clearly doing something wrong.”
He slips a second finger in, curling them exactly the way he knows you like.
“Carm.”
“He couldn’t make you feel like this, babe. You and I both know it.”
You’re nodding, fingers gripping his shirt tightly as if you’re scared he’s going to walk away. His lips press into your neck again, nipping along the expanse of skin.
“Say it.”
“Hmm?”
You’re dazed, mind hazy with Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen.
“Say. It.”
He punctuates his words by curling his fingers harshly. You’re seeing stars, legs giving out.
“He - he… fuck, Carmen, please.”
“So close, honey. Try again.”
You know he won’t relent. He never does, when he’s in a mood. You have to just give him what he wants.
“He couldn’t make me feel this good, Carm. It’s all for you, only you.”
“Good girl. Knew you could do it.”
With that, he speeds up his fingers, his other arm snaking around your back to keep you standing upright.
“Give it to me, baby. Know you want to. That’s it, atta girl.”
“Come for me, there we go. Can feel you.”
“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl. So pretty like this.”
You fall over the edge, clenching like a vice around his fingers as you throw your head back. There’s a sheen of sweat coating your skin, chest heaving with every breath you take. Your vision goes white for a second, gripping onto Carmy’s biceps for dear life.
You rest your forehead against his chest, panting as you try to recover.
“Jealous Carmen is kinda mean,” you mumble into his shirt.
He laughs, wrapping his arms around you.
“You know I didn’t mean it, right? You’re free to date whoever you want. You could do a lot worse than Daniel the hot supermodel.”
You pull back, looking at him carefully.
“I know. I just… I don’t know if I’ll go. Seems a bit unfair to date him when my mind is on someone else.”
You both know exactly who you mean. You both also know that tipsy on a rooftop is not the place to have that conversation.
“Did you ever master the lavender crème brûlée?”
He chuckles, not expecting the sudden change in subject.
“Yes, I did.”
“Do we have any left?”
“We don’t. But I did make chocolate soufflé this afternoon, if that’ll satisfy your sweet tooth.”
“Fuck, yes,” you grin, leaning in to kiss him tenderly.
“I’ll make you a crème brûlée in work tomorrow. Promise.”
“Will you make two extras?”
He quirks a brow in confusion, so you continue.
“We’ve got two elderly neighbours. They’re not very mobile, so I said we’d drop stuff off every now and again.”
He smiles at you, all soft and melted.
“Of course. That heart of yours is too big for your chest, you know.”
You take hold of his hand, placing it there.
“Only sometimes.”
He kisses you again before throwing an arm over your shoulders.
“Let’s go eat chocolate soufflés and drink the rest of that wine you bought.”
“You’re a mind reader,” you laugh, making your way downstairs.
Maybe he is, you think later. You don’t mind in the slightest.
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onlyyourhallucination · 2 months ago
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Lap Rights
Pairing : Dan Heng x Reader
Fluff ; Slight Crack ; The use of chinese endearment once ; Established Relationship
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Now, how did it end up like this again?
Him covering half of his face with his hand as he tried to process what's happening, and that is feeling your weight pressing down on his thighs when he's just lounging around in the party car, minding his own business.
Let's rewind back to a few minutes ago, right before you approach him.
You were doing your own thing, busying yourself, or at least you tried to, until boredom downs upon you and you decided to see if there's anything you can do. And then there you saw Dan heng, on the couch, seemingly busy with something. Is he filling up the datas for the databank? You wonder.
At first you didn't want to bother the man, but somehow your brain just goes, how about you sit on his lap without any context? Tempted. You finally relent to your intrusive thought and walk up to him, he seemed to notice you approaching, he look up at you for a moment and nods before looking back to the datas again.
You huffed softly and then move his hand to make an entry way for you to slide yourself onto his lap.
And so this happened now.
Him blinking confusedly at this sudden action from you, as his cheeks slowly going redder each second that pass. "Wh.. What are you doing?" He sounded so, flustered as he shot the question to you, unable to decipher what's happening as he felt your weight on his lap. "Sitting." You casually replied, and it did not help his case at all. "There are many empty seats." He retorted gently as he glance around to make sure nobody is looking, after all he rather do things like, this, in private.
"I know," "Then why—" "Can't I have my lap rights?" You got him baffled, his lips parted slightly, he wanted to say something but the words died down at the tip of his tongue. He frowned for a moment before sighing in defeat, and finally relents. Putting away his tablet and then placing his hands on your thighs, going up to your hips then waist. "Is something wrong, tiánxīn?" He whispered softly, one of his hand then reaches up to you, brushing your hair away to see your face. "Nothing, I'm just, .. bored." Dan heng blinked, before he shook his head in amusement. "And then you decided to do, this. Because you're bored?" He said as he rub his thumb on your waist line, you simply smiled cheekily at his words.
"I mean why not," Dan heng's eyes flickered down to your lips, "I see." He mumbled, his hand that previously brushing your hair now slowly going down to your cheek, his thumb grazing along your lower lip. You know him well, this means he wants to kiss you, but he's way too shy to ask for it directly, by aeons, in public too? He rather not.
"Shall we move?" You whispered knowingly, his eyes flickering up to your hues, he took a deep breath and then before you could say anything more you felt something slithering around your waist. You look down and it's Dan heng's tail—
"Sorry, I ..think, I might need your help." He whispered an apology and his hand that's on your waist now properly wrapped around your waist before he slide out from the couch, with you in his arms, and his tail wrapped around your waist. He walked all the way back to the passenger cabin, luckily no one was out from their room to see what's happening.
As soon as you two enter the archives, you should pray this man doesn't go overboard because everyone will definitely have a hard time to rest with the sound of your moans.
Whoops.
©onlyyourhallucination . 2025 || Do not copy/translate/use for ai
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A/n — I miss danheng. fuck. Despite already seeing him in Amphoreus quest, I still miss him. 🥺..
Also, I apologize in advance if the chinese writing is wrong, I simply copy paste it from google (⁠ ⁠;⁠∀⁠;⁠)
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kaciidubs · 1 year ago
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Pearl Necklace
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❣ Summary: In which Chris gives you a personally made pearl necklace. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.2k ❣ Warnings: Smut, no plot, blowjob, cum play ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Baby, Channie, Lover Boy, Reader is referred to as Baby, Pretty, Princess, unedited, ive been so busy with life and stuck in a writing rut so please take this as an unnecessary apology ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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“Baby…” 
Your dramatic drawl came with the equally dramatic act of draping yourself over Chris’s body, effectively gaining his attention from whatever video he was watching on his phone as he happily welcomed your weight sinking him further into the couch. 
“Can I ask you something?”
He laughed, tilting his head, “I’d be surprised if you did all that with the intention of not trying to get my attention - what’s up, baby?”
“Can you give me a pearl necklace?”
The twinkle in your eyes did nothing to explain away your sudden request - you weren’t the type to usually wear accessories as it was already, so the desire for a pearl necklace out of any other form of jewelry had him raising an eyebrow.
“Pearls? Like, pearl beads? I mean…” Glancing at his phone, he swiped at the screen to pull up Google, “We can look up some places that sell them if you really want it, I think I can find a few stores that-”
Your hand swiftly slipped his phone from his hold before locking it and stashing it near the couch pillow underneath his head, dismissing his growing confusion with a charming smile.
“Actually, I was thinking that we could make it together.”
“Oh?” 
Do-it-yourself, of course - he loved when you had little projects you wanted to include him in, even if the outcome sometimes didn’t go to plan, it was the quality time that mattered the most.
“Sure, I’m down for that,” he sat up while you rose to sit in his lap properly, his hands resting on your bare thighs, “did you buy the stuff already? Do we need to go shopping?”
You shook your head, pink tongue peeking out to wet your lips, “Nope, everything we’d need is right here.”
A devilish swivel of your hips, loose pajama shorts almost becoming an invisible barrier against his worn basketball shorts, and his confusion spiked up once again.
“Pretty, what- Wait a second-” Hands gripping the width of your hips, he tried to will away the near instant reaction his body always had when it came to you, “What’s going on? I thought you wanted to make a necklace-”
“I do.”
Normally, your nod of agreement would’ve been enough to clear the air, but when you pulled your oversized t-shirt up and off of your body, the layers only deepened.
“So why are you taking off your clothes? Not- Not that I’m complaining, I just…” His train of thought began to trail off with the drifting of his eyes down your neck, following the contours of your collarbones to the swells of your chest he’d been acquainted with time and time again. “Are we actually making a necklace here or…?”
“We are,” leaning forward, you placed a featherlight kiss to his pouty lips, “we just need to do a few extra steps first.”
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Chris designed a few pieces of jewelry in his lifetime, and though he wouldn’t say he’s an expert when it came to the actual crafting of the pieces, he’d be inclined to assume that the process of making a necklace didn’t involve his girlfriend on her knees, giving him the best head of his life - granted, he always considered everything she did for him as the best in his life, but his point still stood.
“Fuck… Just like that, baby- Oh, god-” His head fell against the back of the couch, a shiver running down his spine when he felt the tip press against the back of your throat again. “‘S so good, baby - you’re so fucking good, pretty girl.”
You hummed around his length, hollowing your cheeks as you slowly pulled off of him with a wet pop - lips glistening in a mixture of saliva and precum that put any form of lipgloss to shame.
“Just ‘good’, Channie?” Voice laced with teasing allure, you held the base of his cock as you laved your tongue along one of his balls, sucking at the skin and smirking at the kick of his leg in response.
He choked on a moan, one hand gripping the edge of the couch cushion while the other ran through his hair “Baby, please - I can’t- fuck- can’t really think while you’re doing this!”
Giving his other ball the similar treatment, you littered open mouthed kisses along the underside of his cock, “Mm… Can you look at me then, lover boy?”
To be honest, he wasn’t even sure when he had closed his eyes to begin with, but lifting his head and directing his full attention to you made him realize why keeping them closed was working in his favor.
Hypnotizing sultry gaze behind lidded eyes, your lips resting perfectly against his shaft as your hand gripped the base of his dick with practiced perfection - if he even dared to look any further then he’d see the utterly filthy line of saliva coating your chin, or the way your free hand was making itself busy between your legs.
The twitch of his dick was all you needed to feel to know that you had him right where you wanted him, a satisfied smile curving the corners of your lips as you pumped your fist.
“Ready to make that necklace for me?”
His breath hitched, lips parting to let out a shivering moan as he frantically nodded, “Y-Yeah- Shit, yeah - gonna make you look so pretty, princess.”
Your eyes sparkled, a giddy expression almost overtaking the utter lust exuding from you as you doubled your efforts with your hand - the wet, slick sound floating through the air while you jerked him off.
Chris fought the roll of his eyes as he focused on your goal-driven face, bucking into the drag of your palm as if he were truly fucking you, until the pressure in his abdomen became too much to bear.
“I’m gonna come, baby- Oh, god, yes- Y-Yeah, yeah-” His hand flew from the couch and wrapped around your own, angling his dick toward your chest with panted breaths, “I-I’m coming - I’m coming, f-fuck-”
The first splatter of cum landed directly on your neck, dripping its way toward your clavicle and between your breasts. Tilting your head back just a bit, you felt the warmth of his cum land around the curve of your neck, painting a shaky line of white against your skin with each shivering pass of your combined hands.
He let out a strained grunt as the last few drops dotted your cleavage, using your hand to thoroughly milk himself of the final remains before effectively melting into the couch with a worn sigh.
“So…” Giggling, you dropped your chin to get a better look at your exhausted boyfriend, “How do I look?”
Looking down, he noted the way his release seemed to follow the downward curve before either spilling down your collarbones or further filling out the line down your clavicle, adding a sort of teardrop design to your necklace.
“Honestly?” A breathless giggle escaped him as he reached his non-soiled hand out toward his phone, “How about I take a picture to show you, then we can work on adding some accessories to go with it.”
Safe to say, this wouldn’t be the last pearl necklace you’d receive from him.
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✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @laylasbunbunny, @zaethefangirl, @chxnb97, @4-chan-inpadella
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aurorasgate · 10 months ago
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i saw a post while scrolling down your profile and i came up with a req of sleepy sex with seph whos just a super exhausted husband who wants to spend time with his wife but doesn't have the energy to go all out
eeee anon!!! i love this request - i am but a puddle against this man🥺🩷 husband!seph my beloved<3 i hope you enjoy, thank you for requesting this! my heart was all warm writing this🥰💕
sephiroth x fem!reader | 3.3k + words
warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, pre nibelheim seph, soft n sweet, size kink if you squint (i will repeat this man is huge), cream pie
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slow and heavy, your eyes blink and through your bleary vision the animated movie about the baby chocobo who ran away from home that you had started about an hour ago continues to play quietly on the television screen. you can hear their small voice, make out the tuft of pale yellow feathers at the top of their head but don’t register what’s being said or what they're doing. 
your thumb fiddles with the band around your finger, the motion trying to keep you awake for just a little longer in hopes you’d be able to wait for your husband to get home. it’s late, with the moon high above your shared apartment on the top floor of the building and the quiet streets below set in the glow of the streetlights that emanate the color of the mako that powers them. 
the world was in a similar state when sephiroth had left early this morning and you suppose you were too. though instead of being tucked into bed that clung with his warmth, wiggling more and more onto his side until you could bury your face in his pillow, you were now laying on the couch in a half comfortable position with a soft blanket wrapped around you. it also happened to smell like him.
blinking again, or what you thought was you blinking, you’re surprised when your eyes open and in the dim light the only thing you see is the familiar dark leather of sephiroths coat against his pale skin, so very close you could reach your hand out to touch him with little effort, could feel his warmth. the apartment is quiet, like you had slept through the rest of the movie even though it feels like only a minute has passed since you closed your eyes.
“welcome home,” you coo, your voice clinging with sleep and happiness.
“i didn’t mean to wake you,” he replies quietly, caring. tired.
“you didn’t,” your assurance is sweet as you stretch out your arms towards him. even kneeling he’s so much larger than you and you have to sit up a bit to wrap your arms around his neck properly, wanting to hold onto him and not the armor he still adorned. he must have just walked through the door. you smile when you look up to meet his shimmering eyes, loving how tenderly they look back at you but there’s no ignoring the dark circles under them either.
bringing him into your embrace, needing no strength or words to do so, large arms envelope around you. he smells like leather and sweat and the flora of his shampoo, an intoxicating combination that has you snuggling closer, shamelessly taking in a deep breath. only a moment passes before he pulls you from the blanket, effortlessly lifting your body and so easily you follow, wrapping your legs around his waist as he stands and starts to make his way to the bedroom. dressed only in one of sephiroths old tshirts and your panties, in the cool air your bare legs break out in goosebumps and you cling to him harder, soaking in his natural heat.
sephiroths hold on your thighs grows tighter. 
“were you waiting for me?” he asks, murmuring softly against the side of your head where his lips place a long kiss but there's a teasing lilt to his tone that makes your heart flutter wildly.
“of course i was, i wanted to see you. didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you mumble the last part, feeling your heart contract.
perfect pink lips still pressed to the side of your head, he hums in contentment at your words. what had he done to deserve you? “i’m sorry to keep you waiting.”
shaking your head, you hug him tighter, nuzzling the tip of your nose into his soft skin. “it’s okay seph. i’ll always wait for you.”
so often you have left him speechless, longing to never let you leave his embrace. he felt the same when he came through the door and spotted your figure curled up on the couch. his little love, so adorable and even more thoughtful in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever be used to. 
in sephiroths long strides the walk to the bedroom isn’t long but he wasn’t ready to let you go just yet and instead of placing you on your side of the bed and leave you curled up under the blankets to get ready to join you, he sits at the edge of it and rests your legs comfortably on either side of his muscular thighs. perhaps he should have shed his armor before he came over to you on the couch but upon seeing you there, his feet immediately brought him to your side. all he wanted after every day, long or not, though lately they had been constantly long, was to end it with you in his arms.
shifting your weight on his legs, you move your arms from around his neck, letting your fingers roam from the column of the throat, over his exposed collar bone and to his shoulder. he sighs under your touch and you can feel his eyes on your face but your own can’t be torn from the rise and fall of his chest and the milky soft skin you want to kiss over and over again. 
your hands are gentle and delicate as you pull at the straps that keep his pauldrons secured to his jacket and you have to grip each one with both hands as you lift them off his shoulders, forgetting how heavy they actually are. he helps you shrug them off of him and place them at the ground near his feet, one after the other, and as you undo the clasps of his belts, he sheds his gloves and spreads his large hands over the span of the top of your thighs.
he feels lighter, in so many ways and all of which lead back to you; your love, your soft touch, your tender flesh under his hands that were never meant for anything but to be a weapon, a tool, and yet to you they’re nothing of the sort. home, you had once called them so fondly. you had always trusted him to touch you with gentleness he once believed he was not capable of.
“i missed you,” your voice, barely above a whisper, breaks the silence in the room as you undo his jacket, moving onto the suspenders of his soldier uniform that cross his chest. you work on unbuttoning them and look up at him, feeling your body flush with heat under the glow of his mako eyes in the moonlit room and the pulse of his thin pupils that blow wide and return to their normal thin slits at the locking of your gazes.
the warmth of his left palm leaves your leg and his large hand cradles the back of your skull, bringing you to his lips. tips of silver locks tickle your cheeks, act as a sheer curtain of starlight and it is all you can see against the sparkle of the lifestream in his beautiful eyes. “i’ve missed you too darling,” he says lowly, his words spoken on your lips before capturing you in a deep, breath stealing kiss that has you clinging to his chest for purchase and his right hand traveling from your thigh, over the hem of your panties and under your shirt to your lower back to press you against him.
years of training, experiments, mako, have made his body hard, every inch of him defined in thick cords of muscle and scars that you’ve counted and mapped out like constellations and loved endlessly but there’s a distinct press between your legs and with each kiss you share, it only grows harder, more evident and you can’t stop yourself from wiggling your hips to feel more of him.
sephiroth groans against your lips, his fingers flexing and pulling you further into him until there’s nothing that could slip between your two bodies. a languid roll of his hips has you gasping into the kiss and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, exploring your mouth and bucking his hips at the touch of your tongue against his, so sweet and needy.
you don’t know how long you stay like that, on the edge of breathlessness and pleasure that wasn’t enough and was all you need at the same time but suddenly your world is turning and your body becomes caged between the plush sheets and your husband's firm body. the hand on your back moves to keep him hovering above you, so as not to crush you with his full weight, and your thighs spread instinctively. through your panties his thick clothed cock rubs against your clit, making you gasp.
at the breaking of your lips, you take in cool air that does nothing to quell the heat building inside of you, especially when his own finds your neck and begins to kiss the span of your throat, the tip of his tongue licking along your pulse point, tasting your skin without hurry. but you can’t help the worry building inside of you either. he must be so exhausted. you saw it in his eyes, felt it on his skin and your own longing was a reminder of how much he had been working of late.
“seph- wait.”
he pulls away from your neck to look into your eyes, stopping the soft rutting of his hips. worry flashes through his eyes as he looks down at you, his breath heavy and hot in the little air that surrounds you.
“what’s wrong?”
“nothing,” you’re quick to assure him, bringing your hands up to cup his cheeks. he leans into your touch, long dark lashes fluttering closed. “i just - aren’t you tired? we don’t have to ton-”
your words are cut off by sephiroth bringing a hand over one of your own, holding it there as he kisses your palm and speaks against your skin. “i’m okay. i want you,” another kiss to your palm. “i need you.” as if to emphasize his point, he rolls his hips again, letting you feel just how hard he is for you. “can i have you angel?”
“please.” you all but whimper as you arch into him and your free hand on his face sinks into his silver locks, soft and silky between your fingers. he always asked but he never needed to. “i’m yours seph.” yours for the taking. yours to love. yours for eternity, in every life, in every universe.
“you’re mine,” he says, leaning down to kiss your lips softly while keeping your palm pressed to his cheek. “and i’m yours,” he murmurs against your lips before he’s completely too far away from you, now standing at the edge of the bed while you lay enveloped completely in it.
you can feel your heart pounding in your chest and how it reverberates throughout the rest of your body. you can hear it in your ears, heating you from head to toe, feel its pulse through your throbbing cunt as you watch sephiroth shed the rest of his clothes, starting with his jacket. 
he has always adored calling you angel but you were constantly reminded of his ethereal beauty and were convinced, truly and totally, that he was the actual angel here. or so much more than that, you thought as you watched long and thick fingers against pale skin and dark cloth, pulling down his pants and underwear in the same movement, lifting over the unbelievable length of his cock before sliding down his thighs and hitting the ground with a dull thud.
yes, so much more. your breath caught at the sight of your husband in the moonlight, his flushed mushroom tip leaking on his abdomen, every dip and curve of muscle and inch of skin you know is soft to the touch despite how marred it is from years of war and battle. cat-like eyes that shine and swirl with devouring, all consuming, love and devotion. a god among men but with the way he worshiped you, you were always his equal, regardless of whether you believed it yourself.
even in his much larger grasps his cock looks big and your mouth waters at the remembrance of the weight of it on your tongue as he pumps it slowly once, twice, with heaving breaths as he crawls back over to you. 
truthfully, he is as exhausted as you worry he is. he knows he is but this time apart from you has taken more of a toll on him than the tiredness could. all he wants is to be with you, his precious wife, and now you are finally underneath him, pliant and sweet and needing him just as much as he does you. nothing could keep him from you.
you lift your hips to help him slide your panties down your legs, the wetness of them trailing along your skin and deliciously evident to sephiroth in the dim light.
“so wet for me,” he purrs and sucks in a sharp breath as he taps your clit with his cock head again and again, a wet, lewd, noise filling the air. 
your essence is slick and drooling down his length, onto his hand at the base of his cock the more he slides it along your slit until it catches at your entrance and he sinks into your tight hole just a little more. he nearly collapses on top of you, the last of his weight held up by his forearm near your head and is joined by his other that cradles your cheek and brings you to his lips once more.
he takes his time sheathing fully himself inside your velvety walls, swallowing each of your whimpers and murmurs of his name the deeper he delves into you with each roll of his hips and the pleasurable ache between your legs from the stretch makes your body burst with the flames he controls so well.
the way sephiroth sighs your name as he stills inside of you, now completely enveloped by you and letting his forehead rest on yours, is like the most beautiful and sinful melody. one that stirs you to your core and makes you cling to him like you needed reassurance he was really there. your fingers sink into the soft flesh of his back and the strands of hair that spill over his frame and shoulders, your legs squeezing around his hips so he might not slip from your grasp.
when he finally starts to move, his thrusts are slow and deep, barely pulling out of you before he’s reaching deeper than before, the thick vein on the underside of his cock rubbing and throbbing against your walls. you’re so full of him, in every way you can possibly think of. every thought is only of him, each breath heady with his scent, everywhere your bodies touch pressing you further into the plush mattress and keeping you right underneath him, right where he needs you, where you don’t know where he ends and you begin.
you’re so tight around him, taking him perfectly, and moaning his name with a particularly deep roll of his hips that has him thinking he won't last much longer. you could bring him to his knees with your smile alone but like this..
“oh, seph~”
“say my name again,” his voice is low and husky with desire and laced with tiredness but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t want to stop. he needs to be as close to you as possible.
you do, over and over at the drugging feeling of him making love to you, filling you like you were made for each other, like the missing piece of your soul you couldn’t go without. you can feel the tautness of his muscles when he’s so very deep and your walls squeeze around him in white hot pleasure, pulling him in deeper, begging for more. 
“seph.. mmm.. please -  sephiroth!!”
you gasp his name as he grabs ahold of your leg and brings it up to his chest, still thrusting in and out of you as he easily maneuvers you so you’re laying on your side and without sliding out of you, he takes the place behind you, pressing your back against his chest with the hand that snakes underneath you and presses on the space below your breasts underneath your shirt.
he gingerly guides your leg back down, soaking in the feeling of your soft skin under his palm and this new angle with you in his embrace. his pace remains unhurried and overwhelming at the same time; you whine each time he pulls his hips back, feeling unbearably empty despite how much just his tip splits you open, and cling to his arms around you desperately, mewling and writhing in his hold when he pushes back into you slowly and fluidly, hitting that perfect spot inside of you that has you burning and trembling. 
“look at you.. my beautiful darling.. i love you,” his voice is hot and heavy in your ear, a seductive purr that breaks the hold on the tightness below your belly. a rare curse leaves his lips, “fuck - you always take me so well.” his hold on you tightens, keeping you in place as his thrusts become less paced and more desperate, not able to retract from your heat, but bringing you down on his cock more and more.
your voice cracks around his name on your tongue, your pretty pussy fluttering around his length and he stills inside of you to feel every last squeeze as you milk him for all he’s worth.  
“just like that angel, take me..” 
you’re still throbbing around him, his release plentiful and sticky, unable to be kept all inside of your cunt with you so full of his cock but he doesn’t seem to mind the messiness between your legs and keeps you held close even after you’ve both come down from your highs. 
nuzzling his nose into your hair, you feel his weight sag against you and the expanding of his chest with the deep inhale he takes that’s wafting with sex and your sweet scent and that melts the remnants of his strength, what little of it had been getting him through these last few days. none of it mattered anymore now that he was home with you. 
“seph?” you ask, feeling his breath fall into a steadiness that reminds you of when he’s sleeping in your arms without a worry.
“mm?”
“let me clean us up,” you offer, wanting to take care of him, though he hadn’t had you ever do so before. cleaning you up after was a duty and privilege he took very seriously, as if he needed to care for you in that way.
you try to wiggle from his hold, shivering at the over stimulating movement of his half hard cock still sheathed in your cunt, but he doesn’t budge and you aren’t strong enough to escape, even if you were to give it an honest effort.
“stay like this with me for a little longer,” his voice sounds so full of sleep and boyish. it makes your heart stutter and your cheeks warm.
you can’t deny him. you don’t think you’d ever be able to. so you give in to your own tiredness, fitting perfectly in the curled up space of his chest and thighs when you snuggle closer, letting the weight of him surrounding you, inside of you, drift you into sweet and steamy dreams featuring your soldier.
when you wake, moonlight still fills the room but the mess between your legs is gone, the sheets are clean and your husband holds you so impossible close, the warm metal of his wedding band clinking against your own as you lace your fingers together and fall back asleep to the sound of his steady heart in your ears.
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abbyssgf · 2 months ago
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I saw you had requests open so I thought I would offer an opportunity to write found family with Sevika Jinx and isha (maybe a sevika x reader), they have been running around my head and I love them sm :,3
(If this doesn’t interest you or goes against smth I’m not aware of feel free to ignore and have a good day/night :33)
OMG ANON YES!! i'll write it 'cause i miss them too🫂🩷 i'll make it sevika x reader :3
𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞!𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 & 𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐚 & 𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐱 | 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲
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• concept: you always knew your wife knew jinx almost from a child and then jinx meet isha, unexpectedly the little kid started to cling to jinx. after the fight jinx had with her sister, vi, the three of them were bruised you couldn't just tell jinx and isha to get out of your house so you and sevika started to take care of both of them and unexpectedly both of the girls entered your and sevika's life
• words: 1,4k
• warnings: mentions of fight, injuries, thats all
• author note: *sigh*… I MISS THEM SM:( i've tried my best to write properly jinx and isha i hope it's good! anon i love u sm for this request (and sorry that it took me that long)
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you knew sevika went to the 'mission' of fighting with Jinx and the kid that started walking with her for some time, not leaving her side. Sevika went with both of them because she was needed there, before she left yours and her house she gave you a kiss on the forehead and promised that she will come back to you.
 A few hours passed and you were more and more anxious and worried about her and the girls. god damn, what if Caitlyn shoots Jinx and then your wife? what if they're all dead there? what if- negative thoughts stopped when you heard opening the entrance door to the house. you swear you could cry 'cause of the relief.
you went to the hall and you saw Sevika with a tired face and some cuts, blood were on her face, your gaze went down to Jinx who also had a few bruises and cuts on her face and her finger- oh god. It was shot. you also looked at the little girl in Sevika's arm, happily she didn't have a big cuts on her face. you sighed looking at the three of them. 
"come on, someone has to bandage your wounds" you said and sevika put down Isha on the floor "jinx, go to the living room… we'll be there in a minute, take Isha with yourself" sevika said to jinx. she just nodded not wanting to be an ass for her right now (and basically didn't want to be mean to sevika in front of her wife) "c'mon Isha they shoo us into the living room" Jinx murmured in a somehow playful but gentle voice to Isha wanting to easy the tension, at least for her and she takes her to her arms and went to the living room. 
when the two girls were gone Sevika sighed, now focusing only on you. You didn't said anything, you just wrapped your arms around her and your wife buried her face in your neck with an arm around your waist, you knew she needed a few moments of silence with you. 
after a few moments sevika grumbled into your neck "as I promised, i'm back, babe". you smiled softly at her words and you kissed sevika on the back of her head. "I was scared" you said softly to her "for you and them... i've started to think all of you are dead there and-" sevika cut your words with a kiss on your lips "baby" sevika said to you, meeting your eyes with hers. "no matter what i'll always come back to you" she said to you and you nodded gently and sevika kissed you on your forehead as she quietly sealed her words.
after a few moments of the both of you being quiet in your embrace you spoke "…we had to come back to Jinx and Isha to take care of them" you said to your wife in a soft tone and sevika nodded, agreeing with you. the both of you went to the living room where Jinx and Isha were, sitting on the couch waiting for the both of you to come back to them.
you went to one of your cabinets where you held the first aid kit and you took it out of the cabinet. firstly you decided to take care of Jinx fingers (or rather what was left of it). you sat next to the girl and you started to take care of it, making sure you disinfected it, secured it and put a bandage on it, making sure it was applied well but not too tight to allow blood flow. 
when you were bandaging Jinx fingers you asked her a question 'cause of your curiosity "how did it happen, kid?" you asked her and you heard Jinx snort. "She shot off my finger" she replied to your question and you knew that 'she' meant Caitlyn. you signed quietly being concerned about her after all. you finished bandaging finger jinx "make sure to change the dressing from time to time" you said to her and she smirked. "I know how to take care of myself" she said but added soft "but thanks".
you smiled at her words and your gaze went to the girl who sat next to Jinx. Isha, that's how Jinx called her. "hey, little one" you said to her and Isha smiled softly but slightly hesitant. "i'm gonna take care of you now, okay?" you said to Isha and she nodded her head, understanding what do you mean. she moved on the couch so she was sitting close to your lap thanks to it you were having a better executioner to dress any of her wounds (if she had any).
you took her head into your hands gently, dressing her face looking for any wounds or cuts. you found some dirt on her face and your eyes found some small cut on the side of her check and you frowned, yeah it wasn't that bad and deep but still it was a cut. you grabbed the band-aid you kept in the medicine cabinet and placed it on the wound "there" you murmured.
Isha smiled at you and hugged you as she wanted to say 'thank you!'. you giggled softly and ruffled her hair. "you're welcome, kiddo" you said to her in a gentle voice with a soft smile on your face. 
Sevika stood at the table, observing you with Jinx and Isha and how you were taking care of the girls. She couldn't stop herself but she thought that you would be a good mom with your sweet heart and gentleness. 
You left girls on the couch for a while and you came over to your wife. you helped sevika to take off her mechanic arm that jinx made for her and you placed one of your hands on sevika's arm. "you need to be taken care of too" you said to her and she rolled her eyes playfully "i'm a tough woman, baby" she said but you suspected she said that because of the girls.
Jinx opened her mouth to say something but you were quicker than her "sevika." you scolded your wife, looking at her with a face 'don't give me that bullshit right now' and sevika just let out a little sight. "alright, alright" she hummed, giving up. 
shortly thereafter sevika was sitting on the chair, with a hand on your hip while you were taking care of her wounds. the two of you were speaking with Jinx about everything and nothing. 
Soon Sevika, Isha and Jinx were bandaged for all the wounds they had. You and Sevika decided and you let Jinx and Isha sleep at your house that night, you spread out and prepared a bed in the guest room for the girls. 
Around midnight Jinx and Isha were sleeping on the bed, covered with a duvet. You stood in the doorway, looking at them with a warm smile on your face.
Sevika approached you from the back and she wrapped her arm around your waist and she leaned her face on your shoulder. She placed a soft kiss on the side of your neck. you sighed quietly "…they don't have nowhere to go, don't they?" you asked sevika in a quiet voice to not wake up jinx or isha.
"no" sevika replied to you and her thumb started to around the small circles on your hip "you know jinx has her big ass room" she started "but besides it, no" sevika murmured to your neck and she looked up seeing your worried face she knew all too well. "baby" sevika hummed and you sighed 
"they're just kids, sev after all" you murmured as if she didn't know it. sevika gave you a kiss on your lips "I know" she murmured to you. your eyes locked up in eye contact. "…maybe it's not a bad idea to let them stay in our house? we can rearrange the guest room for them" you said and sevika's gaze softened at your words and a warm smile appeared on her face.
sevika leaned and she captured your lips in a gentle, soft kiss. she pulled away enough to look at you again "it's a good idea, baby" she replied to you and you smiled with relief.
shortly after that conversation with your wife jinx and isha stayed in your house and this is how your family grew. There were no longer just two of you, but four of you, but you knew that these were changes for the better. now you had your own little family, you didn't expect but you wouldn't trade them for anything. 
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• taglist: @abbyslvrrr @noacinno @nytloq @l0vel3tterl0ver @pizzabbs @dvrkhcld @sannyangel89 @moondient
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jasminedragonart · 7 days ago
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Another little fanfic nitpick. For those of you who need it, I will be putting a reference below for those who are writing about children. This is just from my experience as someone who has a nibling as well as someone who has educated children for a good few years now teaching a wide variety of ages.
So, here is your child chart:
Ages 0-1: Blob. They can barely function without help. They need carried to do the most basic of things. Some of them can walk but not all, and their walking is not without a LOT of hand holding. They can make noises that sound like words, and maybe even say one or two, but they have no idea what those words mean. There is nothing behind their eyes. Will primarily be fed on milk for the first 6 months and then move onto solids once their teeth come in.
Ages 1-2: They can say a few more words. They can recognise those who look after them and say simple things. My nibling knows tractor and cat. They can walk. They will have a fascination with something weird, like their feet and putting and taking off not only their own shoes but other people's. There's a little bit behind their eyes but for the most part they don't know where they are or what is happening around them. They may still be on milk for the first half of their first year but they'll move onto primarily solids and water for most of their diet.
Ages 2-3: They're a little more switched on. They know what behaviours will give them attention and be it good or bad they'll do it. They might be toilet trained but it's all dependent on the parent. They babble. A lot. It's mainly a string of words they'll know but they'll all have different meanings. Shoe could mean, where are my shoes. It could also mean, hello, how are you, I haven't seen you in a while. It's all part of the communication process. They might move onto actual sentences midway through their second year but they will be short and the words extremely simple. They like to run around but their attention spans are still small so they'll lose interest after a while. They will climb out of their cribs and across the baby gates as they've figured it out. My nibling is currently costing my sibling hundreds of pounds because they now have to buy a new toddler bed despite my nibling not necessarily needing one yet. This is because they've figured out how to climb out and the crib is now a safety hazard.
Ages 3-4: They're at a really interesting phase here. They're a lot more independent than they were at 2, which for some is pretty independent, but they also regress a lot. They might not sleep very well, they'll fall down a lot more. This is because they know a lot more and understand a lot more around them. They're actually turning into a little person at 3. On the tail end they'll be a sort of mentor to those younger than them, babies and toddlers fascinating them as they try and understand what's happening around them.
Ages 4-5: Whatever progress they've been making is gone. They now have nothing once more behind their eyes. They are just chaos, turning in circles and licking the floor. As someone who had to teach 4 and 5 year olds, their attention spans are horrific and they will wander off back to their parents to sit on their parent's knee while they glare at you for not understanding that they don't know what left and right are. There will be the odd one or two who find sentience again but this is rare. Sentience is usually not found until age 6. that being said they can communicate a lot better, speaking in bigger sentences. They can also start to learn to write and retain some knowledge imparted on them.
Ages 6: They're back and meaner than ever. They can and will tell you the truth. They will tell on their parents, teachers, friends just because you've told them lying is bad. They are brutally honest and will share their opinion. They will talk for hours on end and call your name seventy times if they think you haven't heard them properly.
Ages 7: They're a fountain of knowledge at this age. They usually have specific hyperfixations and interests that will influence their lives from this point onwards. They'll love getting messy, playing outside and watching cartoons. Their reading level should be fairly decent if they go to a good school and have a good support group around them. This is the best age to get them interested in a sport as they actually have the attention span to enjoy it, maybe even compete in it if they want to join a football club or something. But they are still really young so they will take everything as truth if you tell it to them.
Ages 8: This is one of the last truly childhood years. They're still ignorant of the wider world, and not much truly changes between seven and eight save a lot of friendship building and deeper interest and understanding in their interests.
Ages 9: This is where they start to understand a bit more grown up things. They might be taught about puberty at this age, by that I mean, in my school we had someone come in and warn us about periods. It might seem young, but some girls can get their periods earlier than others and develop earlier than others. They'll understand that girlfriends and boyfriends are a thing and while they'll still thing it's disgusting there will be a deeper understanding that it's something that might happen to them rather than the bliss of years before when pretend weddings were something fun they emulated because they saw it on TV or in their family and wanted a big party like that too.
I might do a separate post for ages 10 and up but this is the basic stages of childhood. So next time you think your five year old in your fic can run away successfully from home just remember, they can't. They are five. There is nothing going on up there except big feelings and big emotions. They will likely cling to their parents and if they do run away, it's literally just around the corner and they will come back inside when it gets cold enough or they want more attention. Your five year old doesn't know left and right never mind can wield a sword. At least make them eight. Dick Grayson was 8 when he became Robin, I feel like that should be the benchmark for every child who is put into a situation. Make them 8 otherwise they don't know what's going on.
If there's more to add, please feel free to. This is, again, just what I've observed from years of working with little kids.
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aliendes · 4 months ago
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SVT Reaction to yelling at you for the first time/saying something hurtful pt. 2
a/n: ok here is pt. 2! i got a ton of asks/comments asking for a pt. 2 and honestly I kinda hate this. its totally unedited, as usual, and I really don't feel like I gave all of them justice. some of them feel kinda rushed, but anywayssssss, send me your others requests for SVT while I'm on this writing kick... hehehe.
w/c: 8,000~ sheeeeeesh
warnings: angsssssssssst, like a lot of angst, female reader (for a couple of the boys), pet names (good girl), hurt/comfort, mentions of previous slap and bruising, just overall angsty as per usual. no smut but this blog is 19+ MDNI as always.
Seungcheol (S.coups)
Just like Seungcheol promised, he stayed up against the wall by your bedroom door all night. He tried his best to fight sleep but eventually, his exhaustion got the better of him and he fell asleep sitting up, head dipped down so his chin touched his chest. 
When you finally decided you’d locked him out long enough, sometime in the middle of the night, you quietly exited your bedroom to find him in this state. A wave of guilt rushed through you at seeing him like this. He was probably exhausted from non-stop practice, and you knew he shouldn’t be sleeping in positions like this, his physiotherapist would probably kill him. But you also knew that you were incredibly hurt by his words and until he properly apologized you couldn’t allow yourself to feel that guilty. 
Instead of waking him up, you walked out to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. But the small noises of clinking glass and running water woke your boyfriend up from his slumber. Stumbling into the kitchen, one fist rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and the other massaging his knee, he found you standing there sipping from your glass, eyes red and swollen from crying. 
“Baby…” his voice was rough, you could tell he had been crying too and it made your heart clench. He took a few steps towards you and you didn’t resist, letting him get close. “Honey, I’m so sorry.” Seungcheol reached both his hands out to you but didn’t dare touch until he got your permission. That permission came in the form of you setting your glass down on the counter and opening your arms for him to fall into. 
The relief he felt was immense as he sunk into your embrace. “I’m so, so sorry baby,” he was sobbing without realizing it, soaking the front of your sleep shirt with salty tears, “I didn’t mean it, you know how much I love you and I c-can’t believe I s-said something like that to you.”
You hugged him closer as your own tears started to fall again. “It’s ok Cheol, I forgive you.” You whispered into his hair as you held him. His embrace was warm and felt like home and of course, you forgave him, he meant what he said, and you were his entire world, as he was yours. “I love you so much, Cheollie.”
“I love you, too, baby, please never leave me.”
Jeonghan 
It’s been three days and Jeonghan is losing his absolute mind. He has never gone more than a single day without some form of communication with you, and if your sister Nayeon hadn’t texted him yesterday to let him know you are in fact fine, he would’ve probably filed a police report by now.
He’s sent probably hundreds of texts and he calls you at least a few times a day. Each and every one has gone unanswered and Jeonghan just doesn’t know what to do with himself at this point. 
He had just gotten home from practice, as he was sent home early by Seungcheol, stating he ‘needed to take a breather’ after sulking around the practice room for hours on end. When he dropped his keys on the kitchen island he startled at the sight of you standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot.
“Lovey?” Jeonghan asked as you turned around to look at him. He sounded as if he didn’t really believe his eyes and thought maybe he was hallucinating you standing in your shared kitchen. “You - you’re home?”
You gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded twice before turning back around to finish whatever you were cooking. It smelled delicious and Jeonghan suddenly couldn’t remember the last time he ate. But that didn’t matter right now. You’re home.
“Baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean any of that, you know that right?” He asked, desperately, as he moved closer to you, reaching out like he wanted to give you a back hug. Any other time he would’ve been clinging to you as you cooked, but now he hesitated. Were you still upset? Of course, you were, how could he ever think you wouldn’t hate his guts after what he did. “Lovey, please… please look at me.” Jeonghan was on the verge of tears now, thoughts spiraling to all the worst-case scenarios. It was his sniffles that finally made you turn to face him, tears already falling from your own eyes.
“Hannie…” your voice was quiet and choked, and the look of exhaustion on your face broke Jeonghan’s heart even further. 
“Baby… can I please hold you? Please?” The tears were flowing freely now, he didn’t even bother to stop them. When you shyly nodded he wasted no time in scooping you up in his arms and placing you on the kitchen countertop, arms wrapped around your middle as he sobbed into your chest. You weren’t faring much better, arms wrapped tightly around his neck and you cried into his soft hair. “Please, pl-please don’t leave me. Please, lovey, I was so, so worried. I don’t know what to do without you, an-and I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.”
“I know, Hannie. I know.”
“N-no, please. Let me make it up to you. I mean it, I don’t know what came over me, and I will spend forever making things right again.” All you could do was hold your boyfriend and nod, knowing that he would indeed keep this promise. 
Joshua
“Y/N! Wait!” Joshua snapped back to reality right away, watching as you rushed down the sidewalk back toward your workplace. He shut his car off quickly before grabbing his keys and phone and rushing out after you. “Y/N!”
He caught up to you quickly, you being much shorter than him, in a few long strides. He grabbed your elbow lightly, not allowing you to walk any further. “Baby, I know you’re upset. Fuck, I’m so sorry, but do not rush off, it’s not safe.”
You halted your steps but didn’t turn around to face your boyfriend. Tears were threatening to fall, but you held them back as you waited for him to continue. 
“F-fuck, Y/N. I’m sorry, I have no idea what just came over me. You are not a slut, and I don’t believe anything that just came out of my mouth, please baby, please believe me.” His grip loosened on your arm once he was sure you weren’t going to run again. “I know you’re mad, but please get back in the car, we can go home and you can scream at me all you want. But I want to make sure you’re safe.”
You finally turn to face Joshua as the tears started to fall. There weren’t too many people around, but it was enough to make your face heat with embarrassment, making Joshua’s heart shatter. On top of hurting you with his words you were embarrassed and it was all his fault. 
“Come on, sweetheart,” he urged gently, offering you his hand, which you reluctantly take. “Let’s talk about it on the way home.” You nodded and followed him back towards the car, allowing him to open the door for you and click your seatbelt into place before taking his place behind the wheel again. 
You wiped your tears with the sleeve of your sweater as Joshua began to drive. You mumbled something softly that Josh didn’t quite pick up. “Say that again, baby?” He looked over at you with soft eyes, waiting for you to repeat yourself.
“He’s gay.”
Joshua took a moment to realize what you were talking about before it clicked. Your coworker. The gay one who just got engaged to his fiance. Their wedding is this summer and you’ve been talking about it non-stop since he asked you to be in the wedding party. Joshua felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.
“Shit. Sweetheart, I knew that. Fucking hell I’m an idiot. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.” He ran one hand over his face, blinking rapidly to try and hold back his own tears of embarrassment now, not letting them fall so he could get you both home safe.
You wouldn’t look at him the rest of the ride home, but when you got home that night Joshua groveled and babied you until you forgave him for his shitty words. 
Jun
The next day, Jun kept the promise he made in the last voicemail he sent. He was on the first flight home after his schedules and the entire flight back to Korea he was wracking his brain with what he was going to say to fix this, if he even could fix this. The thought was tearing him apart. He did his best to sleep on the plane, but he couldn’t get his mind to stop picturing the worst case scenarios of you leaving him when he got home.
Once he was finally standing outside your shared apartment door, bouquet in hand, he knocked quickly three times, despite having the passcode. If you needed space, he was going to give that to you, his feelings be damned.
After a moment you opened the door, surprised to see your boyfriend holding a rather large bouquet of flowers, though you guess he did tell you he was coming home today in his voicemails. You almost felt guilty for making him come home a few days earlier than he should have, but that thought quickly evaporates when you remembered his words from last night.
“Why are you here?” You ask, not allowing him to pass you and enter your apartment, despite him also living there. You could tell Jun had been crying, you could tell he was miserable, and while you felt a pang of heartache for your usually loving boyfriend, you couldn’t help but feel some sort of satisfaction that he had been up all night crying just like you had. 
Junhui frowned at your words, but pushed the flowers towards you gently. “These are for you… and Y/N, please. I’m so sorry…” He was wearing the most forlorn look on his face as he stared down at his feet. 
You took pity on your boyfriend and took the flowers, turning on your heel to bring them into the kitchen, leaving the door open so he could finally come in. As you set the bouquet down on the countertop, you turned back to the doorway, watching as your boyfriend stayed standing outside, still staring at his feet. 
“Well, are you just gonna stand there, or come in?” You asked snippily.
Jun looked up at you, large doe eyes watering with unshed tears, before nodding and entering the apartment and softly closing the door behind him. He still couldn’t bare to look at your face and the remnants of dried tear tracks and puffy cheeks. He felt immeasurable guilt for the things he said last night and how he made you feel. So he continued staring down at the floor out of respect for you.
“Y/N, I hope you know I didn’t mean any of those things I said last night. I love you and your family so, so much. There is nowhere in this world I would rather be than with you, in your arms, making you the happiest person on the planet. I love your family, and one day I know they’ll be my family, too, so, of course, I love them, of course, I will do whatever it takes to make them happy too, because-” Jun let out a soft ‘oof’ when you collided with his chest, stunned for a moment before he gently closed his arms around your middle, resting his cheek on your soft hair. “I love you more than all the stars in the sky.”
You were sniffling now and Jun could tell you were on the verge of full-blown sobbing when you said with a watery voice, “And I love you more than all the fish in the sea.”
Soonyoung
When Soonyoung entered your darkened apartment, there was silence, and that scared him more than the noises you made when you ran out of the practice room. With his thoughts spiraling to all the worst-case scenarios of what could be happening, he quickly searched through your shared space, checking all the rooms and bathrooms to figure out where you were hiding. 
When he reached the guest bedroom, he heard it. A small sniffle and a gasp for air. Without thinking he launched himself onto the guest bed, thinking he’d find you, but you weren’t there. Looking around again, he finally spotted you, squished in between the corner wall and the old dresser you two had put in here last year. Your head was between your knees and you were attempting to take deep breaths, but he could tell it was futile. 
Rushing over to you he dropped to his knees, ignoring the pain in his knee caps as he did so, and reached out to put his hands on your shoulders. Your head shot up as if you hadn’t heard all the commotion before and stared up at your boyfriend with a red, puffy face, streaming with tears. The sight broke Soonyoung’s heart even further, but he needed to help you through this first and foremost. 
“Baby, I need you to breathe, ok? Can you do that for me?” You shook your head no, an action that he mirrored, “I know you’re upset, and you should be, but right now I’m more worried about your breathing. Ok, deep breath…” Soonyoung took an exaggerated deep breath in which you were reluctant to mirror, “C’mon baby, please breathe with me.” You could tell from your boyfriend’s tone that he was actually starting to get scared and in turn that scared you, so you followed along with his instructions. “There you go, good girl, again…”
After a few minutes of following Soonyoung’s deep breathing, your own started to even out, satisfying your boyfriend enough for him to properly sit down and pull you into his lap, cradling you like you were the most precious thing to him in that moment. As you started to move to get out of his embrace, his arms tightened slightly around you as he murmured into your hair, “Please… please baby, please don’t leave me.”
His panicked tone set you on edge again, having thought you were both calmed down from before, but clearly he needed this now. 
“Please…” he was sobbing into your hair, your shoulder, just trying to be as close to you as possible, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry, please, please don’t leave.” He was begging now.
“Soon…” You whispered, taking one cheek in your hand and raising his face to meet your eyes. You could see the anguish there, he really thought you were about to leave him for good. “Soon, I’m not leaving. I’m just really upset with you, you said some cruel things to me.”
Soonyoung cleared his throat slightly, but the tears kept running, “And you should be! I was horrible, baby, and I’m so fucking sorry. I was in my head about practice and nothing going right today.”
“I can see that Soonyoung, but it doesn’t give you the right to treat me that way.”
“You’re right, I’m not making excuses. I was wrong, and if you’ll let me I will make it up to you, and prove to you it wont happen again. I love you so much, and all I want is to cherish you.”
You slid your hand down his cheek, his neck, his shoulder, until you wrapped both your arms around him, squeezing him tightly, which he returned without a second thought. “And I love you, too, Soonie.”
Wonwoo
Wonwoo had been knocking on your friend’s door for the last five minutes, he knew you were in there. You told him last night where you were going, but you hadn’t answered any of his calls or texts all night, finally prompting him to drive over here himself and make sure you were alright.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, Sunmi answered the door wearing a robe with her hair up in a towel. It was clear she had just showered and she looked like she was about to tear Wonwoo a new one, until she saw the crazed look in his eyes. 
“Wonwoo? What are you doing at my door at,” she looked behind her at her microwave clock, “6:53 am? Is it Y/N?” Now she was starting to panic, wondering why your boyfriend is at her apartment looking like he just went through hell and back.
“She’s not here?” Wonwoo’s eyes widened, “What do you mean she’s not here? She didn’t come over last night?” Sunmi shook her head, not understanding what Wonwoo meant. She talked to you yesterday, but made no plans to come over. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!” Wonwoo ran both his hands through his hair and turned on his heel, running down the hallway of Sunmi’s apartment building. “Call me if she shows up, please!” He yelled over his shoulder, and all Sunmi could do was nod before he disappeared down the corridor. 
Now, Wonwoo was actually panicking. How could he let you go last night? What if something horrible happened to you? What if- he needed to find you. Now. 
Wonwoo started calling all of your friends, your brother, even his friends, to see if you were with any of them, only to be met with the same answer: No, they hadn’t seen or heard from you. Wonwoo walked through the streets near your shared apartment, every scenario of what could have happened to you running through his mind. The picture of you sitting somewhere, cold and sad with your duffle bag absolutely sends him spiraling. He’s calling your phone over and over, sending texts that are becoming more crazed as time goes on. 
Wonwoo is nearly home, resigned to finally calling your mother and the police, when he gets the text. 
From: Y/N  i’m home
Fuck. He shoved his phone in his pocket and started sprinting the rest of the way home, not taking even a moment to catch his breath before he’s bursting through the front door, finding you with your face in your hands, sitting on the couch of your shared living room. 
“Y/N, oh my God, Y/N…” Wonwoo dropped to his knees in front of you, reaching out and smoothing his hands over your shoulders, needing to feel that you were real, “Y/N are you ok? What happened, where were you?” Wonwoo we crying from relief at this point, trying, and failing to hold back his sobs. 
You sniffled again and finally pulled your head from your palms, looking at your boyfriend, who looked absolutely pitiful. You would’ve chuckled if the situation wasn’t so serious. His glasses were askew on his face, his bedhead sticking out in different places, and tears running down his face, making his eyes red and puffy. He looked like he fared no better than you last night and the thought made you feel better somehow. 
Wonwoo was still looking up at you expectantly, not bothering to wipe the tears from his face. “I was in the subway station.” Wonwoo furrowed his brow and reached out to grab your hands, you let him, knowing what he was doing.
“Your hands are freezing, Y/N.” Wonwoo reached up, brushing his knuckles lightly over your reddened cheek, “Shit. You’re burning up. You stayed down at the station? All night?”
You nodded, closing your eyes at the sensation of his cooler hand against your warm skin. 
Without asking, Wonwoo stood up and scooped you into his arms, bringing you to your shared bedroom and settling you comfortably on the mattress. He stripped your coat and shoes off before wrapping you in the warm duvet. He left momentarily to grab some medicines from the bathroom and make some hot tea. When he returned, you were curled in on yourself, sniffling and coughing from the cold Wonwoo presumed you had. 
Setting the tea and meds on the nightstand, he took a seat on the bed near your huddled form and rubbed his hand up and down what he assumed was your back. “I’m really sorry, you know. Like… I’m such an asshole. I didn’t even realize what I said until Cheol told me I was being a dick. Which I was.”
You let out a slight chuckle at that, which made Wonwoo smile. Maybe all wasn’t lost. His eyes softened as he watched you cough again. “I’m so, so sorry, love. You are my entire world and I’m so sorry I made you feel like that wasn’t true last night. I’m sorry you felt like you needed to get away from me and it got you sick.” A few more tears fell as he finished, “I hope you know I’m not letting you out of my sight until you're better. This is all my fault and I’m going to show you how much you mean to me if it’s the last thing I do.”
Wonwoo leaned over you, hugging you the best he could in your prone position. You turned onto your back slightly, reaching up and wrapping your arms loosely around your boyfriend's neck, hugging him back, and leaning your face into the crook of his neck. He placed light kisses all over the side of your face as he whispered into your ear, “I love you so much, Y/N. Always.”
Jihoon
Jihoon stayed in his studio that night, not having the balls to face you. Though he did send a few texts, updating you on what he was doing, asking if you were alright, and checking in throughout the night. All of which went unanswered.
When morning came, Jihoon couldn’t sit still any longer. He hardly got any work done throughout the night, which was the entire reason for your fight, which only made him feel even more guilty. So after he powered down his computer and locked up his studio, he headed down to the cafe to grab breakfast and coffees for you before heading home.
When he unlocked the front door and walked into shared apartment, he was shocked to see you still awake, working on something on your laptop as you sat on the floor of the living room, back against the sofa. If the bags under your eyes told Jihoon anything, it’s that you didn’t get any sleep either. He winced at the thought of you up and working all night, though he figured he deserved to feel the heavy guilt on his shoulders. 
When he approached you with a bag of food and coffee, you finally looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. You could tell he felt miserable, his hair was sticking out in every direction as if he had run his hands through it all night, his glasses were smudged from his fingers pushing them up over and over, and he had what looked suspiciously like dried tear tracks on his cheeks. Jihoon set the bag and coffee down on the table before taking a seat next to you, his eyes never leaving your form.
“I brought breakfast.” Was the only thing he could think to say. Jihoon felt like such as idiot. “I didn’t expect you to be awake.”
You scoffed at that, looking away from him and back to your laptop. “Of course you didn’t. Apparently you don’t think I work very hard in the first place.” You slammed your laptop closed with a little too much force, making Jihoon jump slightly. He winced at his own words, going and fucking up again.
“Y/N…” he started, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath, “I am so… so, so fucking sorry. I know how hard you work. I let my stress get the better of me and that is not an excuse. I fucked up. I know I did.”
“Yeah… you did, Jihoon. Coffee and breakfast isn’t going to fix this.”
“No, I know. I just wanted to make sure you ate, since you never let me know last night if you had dinner.” Jihoon put his head in his hands. “I have no idea why I said those things when you are the hardest working person I fucking know. I can’t take it back, but I will continue apologizing for it for as long as you’ll let me.”
You sighed, you knew Jihoon didn’t mean what he said. That didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt. But you could also see how sorry he was. Hell, the fact that he was home this early in the morning was testament to that. Deciding that you had forgiven him, but not wanting to make it too easy on him, you reached over the coffee table, grabbing the bag of pastries. 
“If it means I get breakfast every morning, I guess I can forgive you.” Jihoon looked up at you, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
Seokmin
Seokmin had been at the dorms for approximately 20 minutes when he just couldn’t take it anymore. You had texted him to let him know to give you some space, and that you could talk tomorrow, but he just couldn’t take it anymore. He knew he fucked up bad, especially once he got to the dorms and Jeonghan had asked him what happened. When he explained it to his hyung, Jeonghan has scoffed and chewed him out for being such a dumbass, before he finally showed Seokmin that the website he was looking at was a fanmade troll website. 
Seokmin had never felt so guilty, so horrible in his entire life. You, the love of his life, his literal sunshine on a cloudy day, was hurt because of something he did, something he said, and he was really spiraling thinking about it. 
Without thinking too hard about it, he grabbed his things and left the dorm, ignoring Mingyu’s questioning shouts behind him. 
Seokmin ran all the way to your shared apartment, which wasn’t all that far from the dorms, but far enough that when he reached your front door he was winded. Pressing the passcode to the door, he fumbled a few times before he finally got it right and burst through the door.
He found you lying under the covers of your shared bed, quietly sobbing, and his heart shattered at the sight. “Baby….?”
You startled and sat up in bed, letting the duvet fall around you, not expecting Seokmin to be back so soon. “Seok?” Your voice was scratchy and it made Seokmin feel even worse. At this point, he wasn’t sure how much worse he could feel, but he knew he deserved every last ounce of the guilt he was feeling. 
“Fuck.. I’m so, so sorry, baby.” Seokmin stumbled his way over to the bed before resting both palms on in, not wanting to join you on the bed if he wasn’t wanted. “I couldn’t - I couldn’t stay at the dorms, I can’t be away from you right now. Fuck! I’m so stupid, I’m so, so fucking stupid!” He cried, not bothering to stop the tears now that you were in front of him.
Your face crumpled and your tears fell again, not wanting to see your usually upbeat boyfriend so distraught, despite him of being deserving of it. “Seok, it wasn’t real…”
“I know, I know, sweetheart. I’m such a dumbass for confronting you like that. I will never, ever forgive myself for the things I said to you. For making you feel like… like this.” He gestured at you wildly, not knowing fully how to convey his thoughts. “I… I talked with Jeonghan-hyung when I got to the dorms, he chewed me out,” Seokmin looked sheepish as he continued, “he showed me it was fake… baby, I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s okay, Seok… I understand, I would probably have reacted poorly too if I was-”
Seokmin violently shook his head, “No, no please, Y/N. Don’t let me off the hook that easily. How I reacted was wrong, so fucking wrong, and you don’t deserve that. Especially not from me. Please, please let me show you how sorry I am. I will prove to you that you are safe here, with me, and I will never, ever let my temper get the best of my like that again.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you opened your arms for your boyfriend to fall into. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he tackled you back onto the soft pillows, kissing your cheeks, your nose, your eyes, everywhere he could reach, making you giggle. “Ok… ok, Seok. I believe you.”
He pulled away slightly to look into your eyes, his big brown orbs sparkled back at you, and all he could say in response was, “Thank you, baby.”
Mingyu
When you got to your brother’s house, Joshua immediately sat you down and made you explain everything. Through tears you explained how Mingyu had accused you and yelled at you, and how you were so confused at the text messages because you swear you didn’t send them to him. 
Joshua was livid, he was seeing red when he called Soonyoung over to his apartment and made him also explain what had happened. Through all your revelations it was discovered that you actually had sent those texts to Soonyoung, only you were drunk, and you thought Soonyoung was Mingyu. Apparently it happened last weekend when you were out with your friends for a bachelorette party and as stupid as you felt, as guilty as you felt for putting Soonyoung and now Mingyu is such an odd predicament, Mingyu was still out of line for the way he spoke to you and accused you.
Joshua helped you ice your back after Soonyoung left, wincing when you showed him the bruise that was forming there. It only fueled his anger further, making his decision to call Mingyu over final. Once Joshua had you comfortable in the guest bed, he called Mingyu to see what exactly was going through is head. 
Once he explained what had actually happened, Mingyu was in tears, sobbing to him over the phone, hiccuping and making it hard for Joshua to understand anything he was saying. Joshua asked Mingyu to come over but to stay quiet, as you were napping after the emotional afternoon you just had. Mingyu agreed and showed up not even 15 minutes later.
Joshua and Mingyu had a long discussion about how Mingyu should be treating you, with your boyfriend silently crying throughout the whole thing. Neither of them realized that you were in fact awake, and listening just around the corner from the living room. When Joshua and Mingyu were done talking, you came around the corner and immediately went and sat in Mingyu’s lap, hugging tightly around his neck. Mingyu was stunned for a second, but wrapped his strong arms around you just as tightly.
“Baby…” he whispered into your hair as he watched Joshua get up and leave the living room with a slight smile on his face. “I’m so sorry for reacting the way I did.”
“It’s fine, Gyu,” you sniffled as you pulled back to look him in the eyes, “It was all a stupid misunderstanding and I’m sorry, too, for sending those texts.”
“Hey, baby, no - don’t apologize. You thought you were texting me. It’s me who should be apologizing for how I treated you. And I am. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” Mingyu cupped your cheek in his large hand, thumb running over the apple of your cheek to catch your tears. “You are my entire world.”
“I forgive you, Gyu.” You whisper as you lean down to kiss your pouty boyfriend. 
Minghao
Steeling himself, Minghao took a deep breath and walked back out into the kitchen. He knew that he needed to own up to how he just treated you, but honestly all he could think about the moment he sees you hyperventilating on the kitchen floor, is making sure you were safe. Pushing the fight and his need for apologies to thge back of his mind, he sunk down to his knees in front of you, putting one hand on your shoulder and the other on your cheek, bringing your face up to look at him.
“Y/N, look at me…” he said quietly, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. You shook your head violently, trying to get away from him, “Hey. Hey hey, baby, it’s ok, you’re ok, we’re ok. I just need you to breathe Y/N.” Your boyfriend did his best to take some deep breaths, gently nudging your cheek again so you would look up into his eyes. You look so small and scared and even though his heart was breaking, he knew you needed him right now. “Deep breath, there you go. Good girl. Tell me five things you can see.”
You hiccupped when you tried to take a deep breath and Minghao made exaggerated motions with his chest to show you how to breathe. Once your breathing evened out a bit you started to mumble, looking anywhere that wasn’t him. “T-t-table… a- a mug.” You pointed weakly to the kitchen counter. Minghao didn’t need to look, didn’t care if you were right, just needed you to keep talking. 
You looked down at his hands, “Ring,” his eyes softened when you mentioned the team ring on his pinky and grabbed at his wrist. “Y-you.” 
“Who, Y/N?”
“H-Hao.”
“One more.”
You took another shaky breath in and looked around, “The p-plant.” You motioned with your eyes to the pothos plant sitting just above the kitchen sink. 
“Good. I’m right here, baby. I got you.” Minghao whispered as he moved to sit down right next to you, letting you hold onto his wrist still, he gently picked you up and moved you so you were situated on his lap. “Now, four things you can touch.”
You rested your head against his shoulder as you started to calm down. “Your hair,” you whispered as you ran your fingers through his long hair. “Your sweater,” you mumbled as your hand reached the soft material of his sweater. “My jeans,” you said as you shifted in Minghao’s lap and he chuckled softly knowing how much you hated wearing denim at home. 
“One more, baby.” He whispered softly into your ear. 
“Heartbeat…” you murmured quietly as your hand rested against his chest. Before he could continue with your calming techniques you cut him off. “I’m fine, Hao.” He wasn’t sure if he believed you, but he couldn’t hear the tremble in your voice anymore, so he chose to just hold you tightly.
After a moment of silence, Minghao whispered in your ear. “I am so, so incredibly sorry, my love. I’ve been stressed lately, and seeing you so stressed just freaked me out.” His voice was so soft like he was trying not to startle you. You nodded against his neck and he could feel the wetness from your remaining tears gathering near his collarbone. “I hate seeing you hurt, and I can’t believe I’m the one who hurt you this time.”
“You didn’t…” you trailed off, pulling back to look your boyfriend in the eye. He gave you a look that told you that was a lie, so you added, “I mean, not initially. Sometimes I just…. Get this way and I don’t know how to fix it.” You looked down at your hand still resting on Minghao’s chest and sniffled.
“That’s okay, my love. That’s why I’m here. I shouldn’t have yelled, I should’ve helped you in whatever way I could, and I am so sorry that I didn’t do that.”
You looked back up at his big brown orbs, noticing the wetness there. Minghao rarely cried, especially not in front of others, so without hesitation you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his hair. “I forgive you.”
“I promise you are safe with me.”
Seungkwan
When 3 a.m. hit Seungkwan couldn’t keep his cool any longer. He refused to go to sleep without speaking to you, regardless of how mean he was to you earlier, he wasn’t going to break the promise the both of you had made to each other. 
He had called you several times by now, but at this point, your phone was off. Either that or you blocked him, but he was refusing to believe that just yet. 
Grabbing his coat and keys, he made his way out of your apartment complex and started walking towards your best friend Minji’s house. It wasn’t too far from your shared place, and Seungkwan figured that would be the best place to start his search. 
While he walked he continued to try and call you in hopes that your phone would be on, or you unblocked him, he supposed, but each time it went straight to voicemail. As he rounded the corner to Minji’s complex, he saw a slumped-over figure sitting on the edge of a flower planter, and immediately he knew it was you.
You sat there, in the dark, slouched over with your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands. You were clearly shivering, having only been in your work clothes and light coat, only stockings covering your bare legs under your pencil skirt. Without hesitation Seungkwan ran over to you and crouched down so he was in your line of sight.
“Y/N?” His voice was so small and timid, so much unlike the tone he used with you on the phone earlier that it made you look up at him. His heart broke when he saw you were crying, probably had been crying his whole time and it truly made him hate himself in that moment. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, a light smile gracing his beautiful features when your eyes met his, “What are you doing out here all alone?”
“Seungkwan… why are you here?”
“I was worried about you. You didn’t come home…”
You scoffed and turned your head to look anywhere but at him. “You told me not to.” His heart sank to his feet at your words. Because yes, that is exactly what he told you earlier. 
“I am so sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what came over me, you know I can lose my temper sometimes, but… but that is no excuse!” He reached out and grabbed both your hands in his, wincing at how cold they were. “Baby, you’re going to get sick, please let me take you home?”
“Now you’re concerned? Earlier you didn’t want anything to do with me, but now you’re worried?” You scoffed again, pulling your hands from his grasp. 
“Sweetheart, please. You can yell and scream at me all you want when you’re home, and safe, and warm, okay?” Seungkwan looked up at you with pleading eyes and you finally, finally graced him with your gaze. It was hard, and sad, but at least you were looking at him. He tried his best for a smile again, but it came across more as a grimace as he watched your body shake from the cold. “Please, Y/N. I didn’t mean what I said earlier, it was said out of anger, but I’m not angry anymore. I’m worried about you. Please, let me take care of you and make up for my words.”
You looked at him now, really looked at him. His hair was mussed, his cheeks were red and puffy, and you could tell he hadn’t slept. “You haven’t slept?” You voiced your thoughts and he shook his head immediately. 
“We made a promise,” Seungkwan said softly, reaching for your hands again. This time you let him take them, “We never go to bed upset.”
The corner of your mouth quirked as you allowed your boyfriend to pull you up from the ledge you were sitting on, and wrapped his arms around you, pushing his face into your hair, kissing your ear before whispering, “I will never break that promise.”
Vernon
Vernon had been sulking all day, not just from his ruined lyrics, but from the way he had spoken to you this morning. Why did he have to take his anger out on you? It wasn’t even your fault, it was the cat’s fault, really. But getting mad at the cat wasn’t going to solve anything. No, if he wanted to fix this he needed to take responsibility for his actions.
He had left you alone all day, not wanting to bother you at work, but as soon as the clock reached 5:05 p.m., he called you, knowing you’d probably be on your way down from your office, heading to the bus stop. You picked up on the third ring.
“What do you want, Vern.” Your tone was sharp and he figured he definitely deserved it.
“Hey…” he started dumbly, “Can you - can you please come home?” His voice was tiny, so different from how it sounded earlier. It was like he was a pleading child asking for his mother to come home. It tugged at your heart strings hearing your usually confident boyfriend sound so small. 
“Are you sure?” You asked, voice still clipped. 
“Of course, Y/N. Actually, where are you? I’ll come get you.” Immediately Vernon was up and grabbing his keys and wallet. 
“I’m just outside work at the bus stop. You don’t-”
“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” He didn’t give you a chance to finish your sentence, determined to make up for whatever he could. “Please, babe, let me do this.”
“Ok, Vernon.” You said as you hung up and waited at the bus stop for your boyfriend. He pulled up exactly 9 minutes later, having broken at least a few traffic laws to get to you. 
As soon as you got into the passenger seat of his car, he awkwardly leaned over the center console to wrap his arms around you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” You reached up your hands to lay over his arms, not wanting to ignore the comfort he was offering, not when you needed it so bad. 
You both stayed like that for a moment before Vernon finally pulled away, only to see you trying your damndest to fight the tears that were threatening to fall. “Oh, baby.” He whispered, reaching out and wiping the tears from your cheeks as they started to fall, “Please don’t cry, I’m not worth your tears. I’m so fucking sorry, you have no idea.”
You nodded your head and bit your lip, but Vernon was having none of it as he gently pried your bottom lip from your teeth with his thumb. “Don’t let me off the hook, what I said was awful. I was awful.”
“I understand, Vern.” You whispered, tears still falling, as you reached out to grab his hand. “I’m sorry I left the water out, I-”
Vernon shook his head, eyes closing as he felt another punch of guilt to his gut at what you were about to say. “Nope. No, don’t apologize. Not your fault, not even a little.”
“But-”
“Nope. Let’s go home and I’m going to show you exactly how sorry I am, babe.” You looked at him as he slowly sat back comfortably in the driver’s seat, not letting go of your hand, and started to drive. “You aren’t allowed to lift a finger for the rest of the day. And I don’t want to hear any apologies from you. I’m the sorry one.”
Chan
Chan listened to your quiet sobs for what felt like hours but realistically had only been about 30 minutes. He never left his spot right outside your bedroom door, not even to grab ice for his steadily bruising cheek. He didn’t care about the pain, he deserved it and more for what he had said to you.
Chan would spend the rest of his life groveling and making up for those words if you’d let him. He knows how wrong they were, how awful they sounded coming from someone who is supposed to love and protect you. Protect you from shit like that, but instead, he’s the one spewing it. 
After another few minutes, Chan couldn’t take it anymore and crawled over the the door, rasping his knuckles on the wood frame a few times. “Y/N?” he asked over your sobs. You quieted for a moment, letting Chan know you heard him, at least. “Y/N, I am so fucking sorry.” Chan finally let his tears fall, full force, as he continued to apologize. “J-just, please, let me in so I can make sure you’re okay, p-please.” He begged, still lightly knocking his knuckles onto the door. 
It took a few moments of silence before he heard the lock click. Immediately he was scrambling to stand up and open the door. He was expecting you to be standing there waiting to possibly slap him again, but instead, he stumbled over your hunched form on the floor, right next to the door. Catching himself before he could face plant, he quickly crouched down so he was at eye level with you.
“Baby…” his voice was distraught at the sight of you hunched over and sobbing. Sobbing because of him, his words. It broke his heart all over again. “Will you p-please come sit with me?” He asked, holding his hand out in offer for you to take. You stared at it for a moment before giving in and settling your hand in his, allowing him to pull you to standing. 
You didn’t look him in the eye, instead looking down at the floor as he led you over to the edge of the mattress and sat down. He wanted to pull you into his lap, but decided against it, opting instead to keep holding you hand as he spoke. 
“Y/N, I don’t even know how to explain myself. I can’t explain myself. What I said was so fucked up, that I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgive me. I wouldn’t blame you if you slap me again and leave me forever.” He sounded so distraught that you finally looked up at him, a small gasp leaving your lips at the sight of his bruised face.
He looked at you surprised, only to realize you were tearing up again at the sight of his face. “No, no Y/N, you didn’t hurt me, I swear. I deserved this, in fact, I deserve more,” he pleaded with you, not wanting you to feel guilty for the slap. “I promise, baby, I’m fine.”
You weren’t sure you totally believed him, but you nodded anyway, not really knowing what to say. 
“Can I please, please hold you? I know I don’t have the right, but-”
Before Chan could finish his sentence you had your arms around his neck. You could tell he was truly sorry for what he said. That didn’t mean you were going to forgive him right away, or possibly at all, for the awful way he treated you. But right now you both needed a little comfort before you had a serious discussion. You weren’t going to deny yourself of that, so you sunk into his arms as they wrapped around you, burying your face in his neck. 
“I don’t want to say I forgive you, Chan because I don’t know if I do, but I’m not leaving. I love you, Chan, and I know you didn’t really mean it.”
“You don’t have to forgive me,” he mumbled into your hair, “But I’m going to keep apologizing for the rest of our lives if you let me.”
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httpiastri · 10 months ago
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NSFW alphabet – op81
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author's note: hello again, rushed to finish this after quali today. mclaren second row lockout heck yes !!! anyways idk what i think about this one, first time posting something abt oscar in many months?? hope u enjoy tho :)
nsfw content below !! minors dni !!!
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a – aftercare (what he is like after sex)
oscar is the biggest sweetheart after sex (when isn't he, though?). so so so gentle and caring for your every need. he'll be forcing you to drink some water, making sure you're cleaned up properly, helping you out with soothing lotions if your skin is sore.
lots of lots of kisses! forehead, nose, cheek, temple kisses, and especially little pecks on your lips. he loves having you rest on his chest after it all, fingers brushing along your skin or tangling in your hair. and there will be so many praises, "you did so well" and "you felt so good" and "you look gorgeous right now, did you know?"…
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b – body part (his favorite body part of his and also his partner's body)
oscar has a thing for collarbones. they're like a magnet to his lips; his lips are automatically drawn to them. he loves to brush his thumb along them, seeing you shiver when he places fleeting kisses on top of them, and most importantly leaving little lovebites for only the two of you to see and know about. oscar is also in love with your breasts, no matter how big or small they are.
can't believe i almost forgot to write your eyes… i will get back to this later but your eyes are definitely one of his favorite things about you. watching you blink up at him innocently, watching your eyes flutter closed, watching them roll to the back of your head… oh he's smitten.
on his own body, he really likes his thighs. if he got to choose, he would have you sitting on his lap at all times. 24/7, no matter the occasion. the sight of you getting off just by riding his thigh is one of his absolute favorites, he loves flexing his muscles under you and guiding your hips down onto him.
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c – cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
since he's a fan of your boobs (well, everything in the chest area, to be fair), he loves to pull out and spill his load over your breasts. he won't do it every time, but he savors the chances he gets. totally has a few pics of you with his cum all over your chest, dripping along your collarbones, saved for the moments when he misses you the most.
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d – dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his)
maybe not a dirty secret per se, but oscar has a little submissive streak... he sure does love begging a little, pouting and whining to get what he wants. and i mean, who could say no to these eyes looking up at you?
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e – experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?)
well oscar went to school for longer than a lot of other racing drivers, and boarding school for that matter, so i think he's been able to get quite a bit of experience. he knows a lot, but it's more important to him to get to know you and what you like. his prior experience doesn't matter as much as the experience he gains together with you.
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f – favorite position (this goes without saying)
oscar thinks you're the most gorgeous thing ever so you bet he doesn't want to spend even a second not getting to look into your pretty eyes. anything where he can watch your face contort or relax, and your eyes squeeze shut or blink up at him, makes him so weak. he loves a classic missionary, especially if he gets to hike one of your legs over his hip and especially if you put a pillow under your lower back because he knows you love it. and when you're enjoying himself, he enjoys himself, too.
seeing you ride him makes him a little crazy though, but don't expect him to keep his eye contact with you during it; his eyes will be firmly glued onto your boobs as they bounce up and down, he can't help it.
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g – goofy (is he more serious in the moment? is he humorous? etc.)
oscar is a soft giggler during sex. he isn't overly serious but not overly humorous either, just a good mix. he's low laughs when you're whining for him, playful coos as reactions to your impatience, and a lot of "baby, let's not get ahead of ourselves, okay?" with teasing smiles. he's just not scared of a little humor because sex doesn't have to be so strict to him; it's just a cozy time you spend together and he wants you to be as comfortable and relaxed as you can.
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h – hair (how well groomed is he? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
he's no naked rat, but he likes to keep things neat. a bit trimmed, not super short but also not long. though i also feel like he definitely adjusts to your likes and what you find attractive.
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i – intimacy (how is he during the moment? the romantic aspect)
sex isn't just fucking to him; sex is lovemaking. he loves to be romantic with it. celebrating birthdays or anniversaries in your bedroom with little candles everywhere to set the mood, rose petals in a heart on the bed, with a cozy bubble bath after. and even when it's not a big occasion, he's very soft and romantic. he has a few playlists he loves to put on, he knows exactly what to say to get you in the mood and where to press his lips to draw out your oh so sweet sounds. oscar is all gentle touches and soft glances.
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j – jack off (masturbation headcanon)
that one time when you accidentally walked in on him jacking off because you came home early from work/school, he was so extremely flustered – but he also found it very arousing. when you asked him if you could help him out, he couldn't help his hasty nods and the way his heart skipped a few beats in his chest. watching you settle on his lap, your hands starting where his had left off, fingers brushing up and down along him teasingly... from that day, he replays the image of you giving him a handjob in his mind whenever he does it himself, and he loves to get your help whenever he doesn't have a lot of time but needs to get off before a race etc.
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k – kink (one or more of his kinks)
marking. 100%. he'll be lowkey and casual with it, not really saying much about it, but after a while you come to the realization that he leaves quite a lot more lovebites than anyone you've been with before. the inside of your thighs, your hips, your ribs... but especially your chest area. they won't usually be where anyone can see, because he likes to keep your sex life private, but there have been occasions when he's been a bit extra riled up (or jealous) and he just couldn't back from leaving trails of hickeys down your neck. he just adores the thought of you having a physical reminder of who you belong to, even if they fade after a while.
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l – location (favorite places to do the do)
your bedroom is the #1 favorite, but he's okay with other places too. he especially likes your bathtub, especially when the lights are dimmed and you've got some pretty candles spread out in the room (and downed a few glasses of wine possibly).
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m – motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)
oscar loves lingerie. if you wore any lingerie, he would be turned on instantly. he just can't help it. i also feel like he's the type to just get turned on from mundane, domestic things. like, seeing you cooking? watching you do your nighttime routine? it's a reminder him that you're there, you're real, and you're his. there's nothing hotter than that.
during the actual lovemaking, he gets a little crazy whenever you say his name. especially when you're about to come and his name slips from your lips in the form of a breathless whimper and he can feel your insides contract around him. it could make him come instantly.
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n – no (something he wouldn't do, turn-offs)
nothing where there's even the slightest chance that you'll injure yourself. nuh uh. he also dislikes things where you won't be able to easily quit if anything were to happen, like bonding. the idea of you being tied up when the fire alarm goes off or you get a panic attack makes his skin crawl, it's his worst nightmare.
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o – oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
i don't think he has anything against receiving it, but it won't happen unless you initiate it. he's very certain about not pressuring you in that way; he knows it's not always your favorite thing to do and he respects that.
i see him as someone who loves to give it, though. especially if he can take his time with you, rile you up with soft kisses and gentle caresses of your skin.
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p – pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
oh i totally see oscar as more slow and sensual. as we've covered already, sex is lovemaking to him, and he's in no rush. he wants to enjoy every second of it, and make sure you do too. foreplay can last for an eternity with him because he loves preparing you for what's to come.
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q – quickie (his opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
he'd rather take his time with you and do it properly. if he really needs to blow off some steam, he'd rather just jack off or have you help him out if you don't have any time. if you're going to have sex, he wants to not be in any rush, and he wants to have time to properly take care of you after.
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r – risk (is he game to experiment? does he take risks? etc.)
he's definitely open to experiment. he might want to try more things than he's willing to admit; even though he's fully comfortable with you by now, something still makes him a bit nervous about talking to you about it. he wants to find a 'good opportunity' to bring the idea up, but it might take him some courage to do it. he'll be very gentle, shy eyes blinking at you, voice soft… "only if you're okay with it, of course!" and "you really have to tell me if you don't want to. you have to promise me", maybe even making you pinky promise that you indeed do want to try the thing.
he'd be over the moon if you insinuated it, though. anything you're up for, he's automatically up for, too.
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s – stamina (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)
i think his stamina is quite good. when i say that he loves taking his time with you, i mean it in that way, too; he can go on for hours. if he needs to take a break, then he'll start focusing on you and making you feel good instead. neither of you will ever get tired, he just keeps on going until he's satisfied.
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t – toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)
i wouldn't say he's the biggest fan of them, but he doesn't have anything against them, either. he's much happier if he gets to be the person to make you feel so good. though, the thought of you using your toys on yourself when he's not around really gets him going, and if anything, he's okay with you using them on yourself even when you're together. (fic abt osc watching you use your vibrator hereee)
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u – unfair (how much he likes to tease)
not as much as some other people (*cough cough* his teammate *cough cough*) but he does enjoy it. he really likes teasing fingers dragging up and down your ribs, fleeting kisses all over your skin, brushing your hair away from your face as you're waiting for him to do something.
he does it in a gentle and sweet way that should be interpreted as just cute but it makes you furious sometimes? because he can be so slow it's infuriating and you want him to just get on with it already. he'll be pretending to think things through or fiddle with a belt, and you'll just go crazy because he should be touching you but he's just finding a bunch of excuses to keep you on your toes. he loves to see you squirming and whining beneath him, holding your hands away easily with a 'tsk' when you try to release some of your tension yourself since he's so goddamn slow. (blurb ish on this topic hereeee)
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v – volume (how loud he is, what sounds he makes, etc.)
a lot of heavy breathing. i see him as a groaner, but he's not overly loud with it. he lovesss to talk you through it, though. "are you ready? is this okay? tell me if i need to pause. that feels so good, you're doing so good."
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w – wild card (a random headcanon)
oscar LOVES praising you. it just happens naturally because he thinks you're doing so well and he loves you so much, he must tell you. "that's perfect, love. i love it when you do that. god, you feel so good. look at you, taking me so well. and looking so beautiful while doing it? there's no one as good as you..."
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x – x-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)
just a bit longer than average but it's the thickness that makes him stand out. even after being together for a long while, it takes you a good amount of foreplay to stretch out for him, and it still feels like he's splitting you open once he finally slips fully into you.
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y – yearning (how high is his sex drive?)
nothing too special i'd say, he loves a good few rounds but he enjoys a sweet, romantic night of another kind just as much.
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z – zzz (how quickly he falls asleep afterward)
a sleepy boy in general but most of the time, he gets a little energy boost out of sex instead. he will be the last to fall asleep pretty much every time, which is also because he just wants to enjoy the moment for as long as he can before eventually falling asleep. he adores having you in his arms after doing his aftercare routines, drawing little shapes into your skin as you start to fall asleep. once asleep, though, he sleeps so well & heavy. it'll take three alarms and you bribing him with kisses for him to actually wake up before 1pm.
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kawamarii · 9 months ago
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GOJO AND FACESITTING PLEASE 🙏🙏
ⵌ — bring it over here .ᐟ
˖ ࣪ ٬ satoru gojo x reader
<16 & ageless blogs dni
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contents Ⳋ facesitting, dirty talk, gojo is so tantalizing, praise, sub!reader , dom!gojo, he’s a lil full of himself (but who wouldn’t be), premature ejaculation
a/n : back on my writing grind :3 thankx for requesting this liv, wanted to write for gojo for some time now !!! i love him RAHHH i need him so bad, not proof read cus im lazy
word count: 1.1k
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“don’t you jus’ love being mine?”
you and your boyfriend gojo were relaxing on your shared bed; propped up against the headboard and engaging in random conversation. the tv was buzzing in the background, the faint illumination of it being the only source of light. you deadpan at his comment. “huh?” you smirk slightly, looking over at him, “what d’you mean?”
“oh, y’know,” he starts, leaning his head against yours and squeezing you close against his side with a small ‘oomf’ at the sudden impact from you, “not everyone gets a taste of the strongest. it comes with some perks! i mean, wouldn’t you agree?” he nudges you, playfulness evident in his features.
you decide to endulge in his banter, and you turn so you’re able to look at him properly. “yeah? what ‘perks’ are you referring to?” you ask with air quotations, and a mischievous glint sparks in his blue irises. “for starters,” he maneuvers you so he can sit behind you, his hands sprawling on your stomach as he inhales your sweet scent, “protection, for one.”
“i know everyone’s always after me, but they’ll never dare to touch you. they know what will happen either way.” he says with a nonchalant shrug and you snicker. “i suppose you’re right about that,” you nudge, “what else?”
he smiles, moving his head down to nip at the skin of your neck. “well, there’s the matter of pleasure,” he emphasizes, and you tilt your head with a playful roll of your eyes to give him more access to your neck. you can’t deny it, though; there’s no doubt that he makes you feel the best you’ve ever had, both intimately and domestically.
“sounds appealing,” you joke, and nip the plush of your bottom lip at the feeling of his lips traveling along the sensitive area. he chuckles, and you can feel it rumble deep within his chest from behind you. he bites down on your shoulder playfully. “oh, but you haven’t even heard the best part yet,” he pulled you close so your back his flush against his and you feel him smirk against your skin.
“the best part of being mine is i love spoiling you.” you let out a small laugh; it’s true, he really did spoil you. you sigh, leaning your head against his cheek. “yeah, trust me i know. i think you spoil me a little too much.”
he moves his hands to rest on your waist and he squeezes. “too much? nah, no such thing of too much when it comes t’you, sweetheart.” he nuzzles his face into your neck. “i like takin’ care of you, y’deserve it.” you sigh, slumping against him with a soft smile. “you’re cute, but it only makes me want to repay you.”
he shakes his head, wrapping his arms around your middle as he firmly holds you. “there’s no need. seein’ you happy and taken care of is my repayment.” his voice is laced with genuine affection; you know he means it.
“but . . . if you insist on repaying me, i can think of somethin’ you can do for me.”
and that’s how you ended up hovering over his face hesitantly, your hands gripping onto the headboard as his hands rested on your thighs. you’re dripping; your essence dropping onto his lips which only makes him more impatient. “cmon, baby. sit that pretty lil’ pussy on me. gonna make you feel good, promise. you wanted to repay me, right? sit.”
you swallow thickly, looking down at him hesitantly. “but— what if i hurt you? like, what if you can’t breathe?” he laughs at your nervousness and pats your leg in reassurance. “trust me, sweet girl. you’re not gonna hurt me, ‘nd i’ll breathe. you can do it, cmon.”
you sigh, reluctantly sitting on his face. you don’t sit all the way; but that’s not enough. he pulls your thighs and makes you sit fully and he wastes no time digging in to his favorite meal — you.
his tongue dives deep into your slit, his nose rubbing against your clit with fervor. you let out a sharp moan at the sudden pleasure and your hands grip impossibly tight around the headboard. “oh— oh fuck, ‘toru,” you cry, one of your hands flying down to grip at his hair.
he groans as pries his eyes open to look up at you with half-lidded eyes, humming the occasional ‘mhm’ against your folds; the vibrations going straight to your core.
your lips are parted with each gasp and you look down at him with the flushed embarrassment on your face. you feel him smirk against you — dick.
“y’feelin’ good, baby? i am, y’taste so good, so sweet.” you whine and your fingers tangle in his white locs. “yeahh, grip my hair, baby. fuck back on my tongue, cmon.” he pats your ass encouragingly and your hips begin to rock against his lips.
he welcomes it, the lewd squelch of your juices only serves as a further reminder of how good you feel. you feel fucked dumb already — the slurping sounds the only thing keeping you grounded. he moans himself, his hips shifting slightly to make himself more comfortable with the twitching boner in his boxers.
you can feel your orgasm building up within you, your hips stuttering. he reaches his hands up to wrap around the underside of your thighs and rocks you for you, the stimulation being too much. “toru,” you whimper, “‘s too much, ‘m gonna cum.”
he smiles against you and flicks his tongue over your pearl. “yeah? i got you, baby. cum all over this tongue, ‘s gonna feel so good,” he encourages, and it works.
your orgasm hits you without warning, and you go quiet for a moment in a silent scream as you finally let out a loud moan, your legs shaking beside either side of his head as your back arches and you try to sit up from his mouth. he shakes his head, prolonging your release as long as he can, drinking every splash of essence that leaked out of you.
he finally releases his grip on your thighs and you hover over him with gasps and pants. “such a good girl,” he compliments, “felt good, huh? i told you. you were so sweet, angel.” he smiles up at you. you swing your leg back over him so now you’re laying on your back next to him as you caught your breath and he turns to wrap an arm around your waist. you notice that he’s a little breathless himself.
“did so good,” he kisses your temple, and you melt into him. you blink open your eyes. “what about you, toru?” you ask, and he smiles. “don’t worry about that,” he waves off, and you sit up to glance down at his boxers. you take note with wide eyes at the wet patch on it tinged with white. you look over at him, eyeing the lazy smirk on his lips.
“heh, told you it’d repay me.”
© marimisses on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.
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back2bluesidex · 8 months ago
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Gin and Tonic - JJK Ft. Kim Mingyu (18+)
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Pairing: Jungkook X Fem Reader X Kim Mingyu
Theme: Pwp, SMUT
Wordcount: 2.2k+
Summary: If Jungkook is pungent as Gin then you need Mingyu as Tonic water to soothe your throat.
Warnings: Explicit sex, filthy sex, threesome, oral male receiving, reverse cowgirl position, she takes both of them at the same time, protected sex and unproduced sex both (wrap it up), creampie, cum eating.
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
A/N: This is written as a birthday gift for my bestie @phenomenalgirl9. belated happy birthday girl. Hope you enjoy this.
Disclaimer: I am not a carat and I don't even know the names of seventeen members properly. I have written this just because my bestie is a carat army and I wanted to write something to quench her thirst. hehe. so, please don't mind if Mingyu's character here is vague. I don't know him well to write him properly.
Masterlist | Patreon
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“W-what do you mean?” you can’t help but shutter. 
The initial shock hasn’t died down yet but you can see another wave approaching you just when your dear boyfriend opens his mouth, “I mean, this. Is. your. Birthday gift.” he gestures towards the other man sitting right beside him. 
You want to scoff. He spoke those words with extra intervals between them as if it would start making sense in that way. If Jungkook thought so then he was wrong. 
Because nothing makes sense anymore. 
You dare risk a glance at his best friend, the other man, Kim Mingyu - aka the epitome of beauty and puppy energy. 
He smiles innocently at you, even though the proposal is anything but innocent and your stomach winds up in knots. 
“But jungkook… this… how- I mean-” you try to speak again but your state makes it tough to form a coherent sentence or a thought for that matter. 
Jungkook stands up from his side of the couch and walks towards where you are sitting. Mingyu stays silent for the entire time as if he needs approval in order to start speaking. 
Propling down beside you, Jungkook reasons, “Why not, Y/N? Remember you once told me how you want to be in charge for once?” 
Your eyes go wide. Jungkook is really talking about your bedroom practices right when his best friend is sitting there, looking like a three-course meal. 
“Yeah but how does that have anything to do with him?” you whisper. Honestly, you are not that frank with Mingyu. You have seen him only a handful of times since you and Jungkook got together. 
Jungkook chuckles, “Baby, you already know that being dominant is like my second nature. I can’t let you be in charge even if I try. So, I am giving you a chance to dominate the most submissive man I know” he points towards Mingyu again, who still stays silent, “as a birthday gift.” 
You wish Mingyu would say something. Something like this is not a good idea. But that guy- does he even know how to talk? 
“But baby-” 
“Oh come on, Y/N. You low-key love the idea. I have caught you throwing glances at me several times before. And I would be lying if I said the image of you riding me didn’t cross my mind.” Mingyu finally opens his mouth and now you wish he would have stayed silent. 
You don’t dare look at him, you divert your eyes towards your boyfriend, almost expecting Jungkook to be mad at Mingyu’s confession but when you look at him.. You find him smirking. 
Jungkook stands again and this time he stands towering your figure. Mingyu follows his suit. 
“We will take good care of you baby. Just trust us.” Jungkook speaks looking down on you. You can see his eyes hazy with lust already. 
“I will be good, I promise, Y/N.” this time it’s Mingyu. You finally take a good look at him, he is wearing a beige hoodie with a pair of dark denim - he looks like a Greek god descending to earth just to make your one wish come true.  
Your boyfriend on the other hand has chosen to go all black. A black t-shirt with a black zip-up, a black beanie and equally black jeans. He knows you drool when he dresses like that. Hence, the choice of his outfit is intentional. 
This might be a one-time opportunity- I mean- two of the most attractive guys you have ever seen are ready to pleasure you on your birthday, what else would you even want? 
You should say yes. 
So you nod a yes, even though your insides are already burning with anticipation and you feel like you will faint from the sheer excitement that is filling every nuke of your body. 
“Good girl.” Jungkook praises, poking his lip ring with his tongue. He then dives down and picks you up bridal style like a sack of rice, “let’s go then.” 
Jungkook crosses the distance from your living room to your bedroom with only five big strides, Mingyu follows him closely. 
He sits you on the bed and retires himself to sit on the armchair placed at a corner. 
“Y/N baby, he is all yours to play with.” Jungkook speaks in an authoritative tone. His voice sends goosebumps all the way from your head to toes. 
“Hey, Y/N. loosen up, yeah? I know you are nervous but it will be fun. I will do whatever you ask me to do okay?” Mingyu sits on his knees to match your eye level. He probably sensed your nervousness. 
His voice is really soothing, soft. Unlike Jungkook, his tone is not at all demanding, kind of pleading if you add. So you nod a yes. 
“So for starters, tell me what do you want me to call you?” He smiles sweetly. Your heart melts a little and you set yourself at ease. 
“Call me by my name only.” you reply. 
“Okay.” he takes your hand and places a kiss on the back of your hand. Your skin is now ablaze. 
“Can I kiss you here?” he places his index finger on your collarbone. You utter a yes. 
Mingyu moves forward and places the next kiss on your collarbone. His kisses start small but soon turn into huge, open-mouthed, wet kisses. 
Your hands wander around his shoulders, then to his chest, to his hair and you feel impatient already. You need to see him. You need to see him naked. 
“Undress yourself, Gyu.” you order him softly. 
“Whatever you say, Y/N.” Dang, did your name always sound so good rolling out from Mingyu’s pretty tongue? 
Mingyu stands up and starts undressing himself by taking off his hoodie. Soon he is standing only on his briefs. 
You are so distracted by the guy that you completely forgot your boyfriend is basically sitting right there enjoying the show. 
You ogle at Mingyu, who opens his mouth to place his demand this time, “Y/N… can I undress you? Hm?” 
That’s when you realize that you are still completely dressed. You nod nervously. You have never been naked in front of two males at the same time. 
But you don’t get the chance to feel much because Mingyu works fast. Within a few seconds you are sitting only with your panties on. Panties that Jungkook got you as a gift. 
“So pretty” Mingyu mumbles. His left hand comes to touch your tits but you swat it away. 
With a weird flare of confidence within yourself you say, “did I say you could touch me?” 
Mingyu visibly jolts at your sudden change of persona, “n-no. I am sorry.” 
“Good that you apologized. Now go and sit up against the bed.” you point at the space where you want your boyfriend’s best friend. 
Jungkook is amused to say the least. As much as he likes you as his babygirl only, he needs to admit that you are quite hot while trying to be in charge. He has already started getting hard but when he sees you straddling Mingyu’s lap and placing your core right on his crotch, his cock twiches inside his pants. 
Mingyu groans, which is understandable. 
You feel Mingyu’s erection poking at your entrance through the layers of clothing and you start getting wet at once. The pretty groan that Mingyu lets out doesn’t help at all. 
Once you are seated properly, you start rolling your hips against him. Your hands wind around his neck, fingers get lost in his dark hair. 
Fuck! This feels so good already! Why did you even think of declining the offer? 
“Can I suck your tits, Y/N?” Mingyu asks cutely. 
You sigh, “you can.” and he takes a nipple inside his mouth. 
His tongue rolls your nipples inside his mouth for a few seconds and then he starts suckling on the bud like a hungry beast. His sucks are so powerful that you start seeing stars. As a result, you grind on his length harder than ever. 
Mingyu can’t help but moan and moan. He is a little messy by the way his drool is dropping down the mound of your breast and landing on your stomach, but you are loving it much more than you thought you would. 
His strong hands hold you by your waist, pressing you down on himself. 
“Y/N, I- ump- I want to be inside you.” Mingyu speaks with a mouth full of your tits. You are pretty sure you have bruises all over your chest by now. 
However, Mingyu’s confession somehow catches you off-guard. He really wants to fuck you? As in fuck you for real? Will things be normal between you and him after everything or between him and Jungkook- oh fuck- Jungkook. 
You twist your neck by 90 degrees to catch your boyfriend sitting at the corner of the room. But the scene that welcomes you - heightens your hornyness tenfold. 
Jungkook has gotten rid of his pants and he has his shaft on his hand. He is semi-hard and massaging himself to uncover his cock’s full potential. 
The sight has you choking on your own spit and wits, too bad that Minguy is now thrusting up while biting down on the skin of your throat. 
Jungkook’s eyes meet yours and you can’t help but feel an invincible urge of sucking him while Mingyu is inside you. 
“I- I want to suck you, daddy.” you murmur. But Jungkook hears it anyway. 
“You want me suck me while my best friend fucks you, huh? You dirty little whore.” Jungkook chuckles while standing up from his seat. 
He comes to stand before you and Mingyu in no time. 
“Gyu, wrap yourself up.” Jungkook hands him a packet of condoms. Mingyu accepts it with a nod. His face is all messy with his own spit. His underwear sports a large wet spot due to pre-cum. 
You chuckle at the sight, “you really want to fuck me, don’t you?” 
“Y-yes.” he nods eagerly. 
You help him in getting rid of his briefs and putting the condom in. then you dismount yourself from his lap only to sit facing Jungkook. 
As you slide down on Mingyu’s cock in reverse cowgirl position, your mouth falls open with the length and girth that welcomes you. 
The stretch is delicious. 
Once you sink in, you take Jungkook’s length in your hand, and rub the pre-cum on his tip. 
Spitting on your hands, you lubricate Jungkook’s giant cock and place the tip on your tongue. 
Just when you take Jungkook fully inside your mouth, your hips roll back on Mingyu’s length. The rhythm that you set yourself in seems to work perfectly. You don’t miss a beat in riding Mingyu and sucking jungkook off at the same time. Both men are a mess by the time you feel your legs giving up. 
Both of them are groaning, moaning, head thrown back. Hair clinging to their forehead with sweat. 
You are not doing much better. Both of your two primary holes being penetrated at the same time is as overwhelming as it is rewarding. All while Mingyu’s fingers draw vigorous figure eights on your clit. 
You jump on Mingyu’s cock one last time and gag on Jungkook’s cock as your orgasm hits you like a loaded truck. 
You fall on Jungkook's chest and you can feel Mingyu grabbing you by your waist.
You are almost relieved, almost because within a moment, Jungkook is grabbing you and laying you down on the bed. 
“Now it’s my turn” he says as he pushes the tip of his cock inside your wrecked hole. 
Mingyu is sitting right above your head with his shaft in his hand, he throws the condom away and starts massaging himself. 
You are well aware that none of them has hit their orgasm yet. So you take the charge again. 
You grab the base of Mingyu’s cock and direct it to your mouth but the pace Jungkook has taken up already makes it tough to suck the other man properly. 
You still do your best. 
Mingyu chants your name again and again. You see his eyes rolling back by your own rolled eyes. He is on his fours and you swear this is one of the best sights you have ever seen. 
On the other hand, Jungkook pinches your clit pounding inside you raw. Your walls clench him promising another mind-numbing orgasm. 
“Hold it. Hold it for a few seconds.” he says as his own rhythm starts to break. You know he is close too. 
Inside your mouth Mingyu’s cock twitches. 
“Let go.” Jungkook says and you let yourself go. 
You squirt, spitting your juices all over Jungkook’s shirt and face, Jungkook spills inside you. As if on cue, Mingyu spills inside your mouth. 
You lie there like a mass of torn limbs for how long you don’t even know as the both men try to catch their breath. 
“By the way, how do you know that Mingyu is submissive ?” You question. The picture of Mingyu on all fours with his cock inside your mouth while Jungkook fucks you dumb is still plaguing your mind. 
Jungkook doesn’t say anything but he smirks. 
Fuck. Did they? 
The question renders your throat dry. 
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gothicxreylover · 3 months ago
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Can you do a Yandere male hashiras coming home and meeting their s/o distraught and crying cause they thought they were dead. Maybe they were gone for 4 or 7 months.
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Hope you enjoy this! Thank you for your request! As you can tell I’m running out of gifs for these characters lol. I didn’t do Muichiro as I didn’t know what to write for him. And no headcanons for Obanai I only had motivation to do a small story.
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જ⁀➴ Sanemi Shinazugawa
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Sanemi storms into your home just before nightfall, his haori tattered, his arms and legs covered in bandages. His survival is a miracle, but he doesn’t consider how his prolonged absence has affected you. He barely has time to set down his sword before he hears your choked sobs. Following the sound, he freezes when he sees you sitting on the floor, your face buried in your hands.
When you lift your head, your red, swollen eyes meet his. “Sanemi… is it really you?” you whisper, your voice trembling with disbelief. He doesn’t answer at first. He’s too overwhelmed by the sight of you like this—frail, broken, crying because of him.
“You’re such a damn idiot,” he growls, though the anger in his voice is directed at himself. He strides forward and pulls you to your feet, his grip firm but not unkind. “What the hell made you think I’d leave you like that? You think I’d let myself die knowing you’re waiting here for me?”
Your tears don’t stop, and neither does his frantic need to reassure you. Sanemi holds you close, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You’re mine, and nothing in this world can take me away from you.” His voice shakes, his usual harshness softened by a vulnerability he rarely shows.
Headcanons:
• Sanemi becomes obsessive about keeping you informed when he’s on missions. If he’s going to be late returning, he’ll send messages through crow, no matter how inconvenient it is.
• He becomes hyper-vigilant about your safety, rarely letting you leave the house without him.
• His possessiveness worsens after this, and he gets irritated when others try to console you. Only he can comfort you properly.
જ⁀➴ Giyuu Tomioka
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Giyuu enters silently, as is his nature, his footsteps almost imperceptible. When he sees you trembling on the floor, clutching one of his old haoris like a lifeline, his chest tightens painfully. “You’re back,” you gasp when you notice him, stumbling to your feet and throwing yourself into his arms.
Giyuu stiffens at first, not out of reluctance but because of how deeply your pain affects him. “I thought you were gone,” you sob against his chest. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
His arms wrap around you slowly, his hold growing firmer with each passing second. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to make you think that.” His guilt is overwhelming. He didn’t realize how much his absence would hurt you, but now that he sees the aftermath, he swears he’ll never put you through it again.
“I’ll never leave you,” he says, his tone as unyielding as steel. He cradles your face in his hands, his eyes filled with an intensity that borders on obsession. “You’re all I have, and I won’t let anything take me from you.”
Headcanons:
• Giyuu starts writing you letters during long missions, even if he doesn’t know how to express his feelings well.
• He insists on you staying close to home, where he knows you’re safe. If you have to leave, he’ll silently follow you from the shadows.
• He becomes clingier in subtle ways, often lingering around you without saying much but refusing to leave your side.
જ⁀➴ Kyojuro Rengoku
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The sound of your crying reaches Kyojuro before he even steps inside. His heart, usually blazing with confidence, falters for a moment. When he enters the room and sees you kneeling by the hearth, your face buried in your hands, he rushes to your side without hesitation.
“My love, what’s wrong?” he asks, though the answer becomes clear when you lift your tear-streaked face. “I thought I lost you, Kyojuro. Seven months… no word… I thought you were dead!”
His eyes widen, and for a moment, he’s silent. Then, he pulls you into a fierce embrace, his strong arms enveloping you entirely. “I am so sorry,” he whispers, his usually booming voice trembling. “I didn’t realize how much my absence would hurt you.”
Kyojuro tilts your chin up to meet his gaze, his fiery eyes burning with a mix of guilt and determination. “I am alive, and I will always come back to you. You are the flame that keeps me going.” His voice is full of conviction, a promise etched in every word.
Headcanons:
• Kyojuro starts planning shorter missions or taking you along to nearby towns when possible.
• He showers you with small tokens of affection, from flowers to handmade charms, to remind you of him when he’s away.
• His protective streak intensifies, and he begins training you in basic self-defense, even if you protest.
જ⁀➴ Gyomei Himejima
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Gyomei hears your quiet sobs as soon as he steps onto the porch. His sensitive hearing and heightened senses pick up every tremble in your voice, and it stops him in his tracks. “(Y/N)?” he calls softly, his deep voice filled with concern.
You look up from where you’ve been kneeling, clutching a prayer bead bracelet he once gave you. When you see his towering figure in the doorway, your breath catches, and fresh tears spill down your cheeks. “You’re alive…”
Gyomei kneels before you, his large hands cupping your face with the utmost gentleness. “Why are you crying, my love?” he asks, though the answer dawns on him as he feels your trembling hands grasp his.
“I thought you were gone,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”
His own eyes glisten with unshed tears as he pulls you into his arms, holding you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. “I am here,” he says, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I am alive, and I will always return to you. You are my reason to fight, to survive.”
Headcanons:
• Gyomei begins praying with you every morning and night, offering thanks for your safety and his ability to return to you.
• He becomes even more attentive, often carrying you to bed when you fall asleep in his arms, whispering reassurances.
• He starts wearing charms or tokens you give him, seeing them as symbols of your bond and a source of strength.
જ⁀➴ Tengen Uzui
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Tengen bursts through the door, expecting you to greet him with relief and joy, but the sight of you sitting on the floor, tear-streaked and shaking, halts him. “What’s this?” he asks, dropping his flashy façade immediately as he kneels beside you.
“Tengen…” You look at him as though you’re seeing a ghost. “I thought you were dead. Seven months… I thought you weren’t coming back.”
His jaw tightens, and his normally flamboyant expression turns serious. “Do you really think something as unflashy as death could stop me from coming back to you?” he says, his voice lower than usual. He pulls you into his lap, his hands resting on your back as he lets you cry against his chest.
“You mean everything to me,” he says, his tone uncharacteristically soft. “I’ll never let you feel this way again. I’ll find a way to stay connected to you, no matter what it takes.”
Headcanons:
• Tengen insists on keeping you in the loop about his missions, even if it means bending Demon Slayer Corps protocols.
• He becomes more physically affectionate, constantly touching your hand, shoulder, or face as if to reassure himself you’re still there.
• His yandere tendencies manifest in controlling who you interact with, believing only he can truly protect and care for you.
This detailed portrayal highlights each Hashira’s unique reaction to their s/o’s emotional breakdown, showcasing their yandere tendencies in ways that fit their personalities. Each is overwhelmed by guilt but uses that guilt to fuel their determination to never let you feel that kind of despair again.
જ⁀➴ Obanai Iguro
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Obanai stepped into the house just as the sun dipped below the horizon, the faint golden glow of dusk casting long shadows across the walls. His footsteps were light and deliberate, but the heaviness in his chest made every step feel like a mountain to climb. Months of hunting down demons, with barely enough time to sleep or recover, had left him drained. Yet, none of that prepared him for what awaited him inside.
The sound of muffled sobbing pierced his senses like a blade. His body went rigid, Kaburamaru tightening slightly around his shoulders as his mismatched eyes flicked toward the sound. He followed it, his pulse quickening with each step.
When he reached the main room, he stopped dead in his tracks. You were kneeling on the floor, clutching one of his discarded haoris to your chest. Your body shook with silent sobs, your face hidden behind trembling hands.
For a moment, Obanai couldn’t move. Seeing you so vulnerable, so broken, stirred something deep within him. Guilt? Pain? Anger? He didn’t know what it was, but the sight of your tears ignited a fierce need to claim you, to ensure no one else would ever make you feel this way—not even the world itself.
“(Y/N),” he finally said, his voice low but steady.
Your sobs stopped abruptly, and you froze, your hands lowering slightly to reveal your tear-streaked face. When your eyes met his, disbelief flooded your expression. “Obanai?” you whispered, your voice cracking. “You’re… you’re alive?”
He tilted his head slightly, Kaburamaru shifting in response to his unease. “Why wouldn’t I be?” His tone was calm, but the undercurrent of possessiveness was unmistakable.
The dam broke, and you stumbled to your feet, throwing yourself into his arms. “I thought… I thought you were dead! Seven months… no word… I thought I lost you!”
Obanai stiffened for a moment before his arms came up to wrap around you. His grip was firm, almost desperate, as if he feared you might vanish if he let go. “I’m here,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. “I would never leave you like that. Never.”
Your hands clung to his uniform, your body trembling against his. “You don’t understand,” you sobbed. “I waited every day, praying you’d come back. When the weeks turned into months, I thought… I thought I’d never see you again.”
His jaw tightened, the words cutting deeper than any wound. The thought of you suffering, believing he was gone, stirred a dark possessiveness within him. He cupped your face, forcing you to look at him, his mismatched eyes blazing with an intensity that made your breath hitch.
“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low and unyielding. “Nothing—no demon, no mission, no god—can take me from you. Do you understand?”
Your tears didn’t stop, but you nodded, overwhelmed by the raw emotion in his gaze. He pressed his forehead to yours, his grip on you tightening. “I’ll never let you feel this way again. Never. I swear it.”
The promise wasn’t just for you—it was for him, a vow that no force in the world would ever separate you again.
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