#Light's not a huge fan of the jacket

[captainhysunstuff]

Light contrasts with his boyfriend a little. Trying to figure out how I wanna draw L's jacket. Also them being silly~.

It’s got a label but there’s really nothing crazy here. *shrug*

[pucksandpower]

Theories of Relativity

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: you don’t need TikTok theories to prove that your relationship is a dream come to life, but it doesn’t hurt when your boyfriend passes all of them with flying colors

The Olive Theory

When you love someone, you have to be willing to make sacrifices and compromises for them (even if those sacrifices are something small like pretending to hate olives just so you can give them to your olive-loving partner instead)

You sit across from Charles at the long dinner table, smiling as he animatedly recounts the race from last weekend. His hands wave through the air, punctuating his story as he describes the final lap battle with Max down to the last corner. You’re only half listening though, too distracted by how handsome he looks in his dinner jacket, his tanned skin glowing in the low light of the restaurant.

As Charles pauses to take a sip of wine, you lean in and whisper, “I wasn’t really watching the race, I only had eyes for you.”

Charles chuckles, his nose crinkling adorably. “Oh really? So you missed all the action then?"

You shrug, trailing a finger down his arm. “What can I say, I find you far more interesting than the other cars going around in circles.”

Charles opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by a mechanic sitting a little way down from you. “Oi Charles, why do you keep picking all the olives out of your salad?"

You look down, noticing the small pile of olives Charles has stacked onto the edge of his plate.

Charles glances at you, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. “Oh, um, I’m not a huge fan of olives.”

The mechanic frowns in confusion. “But I’ve seen you eat olives before. You always get them on your pizza.”

“I, uh ...” Charles stammers, clearly flustered.

Under the table, you squeeze his hand reassuringly. Charles looks at you and you give him a small nod.

“Well, the truth is,” Charles says, turning back to the mechanic. “I actually love olives. But Y/N loves them even more than I do. So I pick them out of my food to give to her.”

You smile softly at Charles, warmed by his thoughtfulness. The mechanic chuckles and shakes his head. “You two are so cute it’s almost gross.”

Charles just grins and pops an olive into your mouth. “Anything for mon amour.”

You crunch the olive happily, then lean in to give Charles a quick kiss on the lips. “People who say chivalry is dead have simply never met you.”

The conversation moves on, flowing from racing to travel and everything in between. Under the table, your fingers stay intertwined with Charles’ the whole time.

After dinner, you all head outside into the cool night air. Charles’ team members head off towards their own cars, calling out goodbyes.

You snuggle into Charles’ side as you walk towards where his Ferrari is parked. “Thank you for the olives,” you say. “But you really don’t have to deprive yourself on my account.”

Charles wraps his arm around you, pulling you close. “I want to though. I like making you happy.”

You stop next to the car, turning to face him. Running a hand down his chest you say, “You know what would really make me happy right now?"

“Hmm?" Charles murmurs, his eyes drifting down to your lips.

You grin mischievously. “A stop for gelato on the way home.”

Charles laughs and opens the car door for you. “Anything for you, mon cœur.”

The Bird Test

If you say something that could be deemed insignificant and your partner responds with genuine curiosity, that’s a really good sign that your relationship will last a long time

The Brazilian sun beats down as you wander hand-in-hand with Charles along the edges of the Interlagos circuit. It’s the day before qualifying, and Charles brought you out to the track in São Paulo to share the grid walk with you.

You stroll slowly, enjoying a rare private moment together during the hectic race weekend. Charles points out details along the track — the tricky off-camber Turn 3, the sharp left-right complex at Turns 5 and 6, the long full throttle blast down the back straight.

You love seeing him so in his element here, his passion for racing evident in his voice and gestures.

As you round Turn 12, heading down the home straight, a flash of bright blue in the trees catches your eye. Gasping in excitement, you grab Charles’ arm and point.

“Look, a hyacinth macaw!”

Charles follows your gaze to the large, vividly colored parrot perched in the branches. “Wow, that’s amazing! I’ve never seen one outside of a zoo.”

You bounce on your toes, thrilled at the sighting. “Aren’t they gorgeous? That bright blue is unreal. Macaws are pretty rare around here, I can’t believe we spotted one!”

Charles smiles at your obvious delight, then turns back to observe the macaw with curiosity. “What do they eat?" He asks. “Fruit, like other parrots?"

“Yes exactly!” You reply eagerly. “Mostly palm nuts and acai berries. And they need a huge range of territory, something like 80 square kilometers.”

As you chat more facts about the brilliant bird, Charles listens attentively, asking more questions and commenting on its beauty. His genuine interest and engagement makes your heart flutter happily.

Eventually the macaw takes flight, its bright wings flashing blue against the trees as it disappears into the forest.

“Incredible,” Charles murmurs, watching it go. “What an amazing thing to see.”

He turns back to you, eyes shining. “Thank you for pointing it out, I never would have spotted it myself. I love seeing you so excited teaching me about something you’re passionate about.”

You step closer, looping your arms around his neck. “And I love that you always listen and want to know more, even if it’s not about racing.”

Charles wraps his arms around your waist, smiling tenderly. “Of course, your passions are my passions now too. I want to know everything that sparks that beautiful light in your eyes.”

The Orange Peel Theory

A partner’s willingness to perform small acts of service is indicative of a healthy relationship

Early morning sun filters into the kitchen as you sip your coffee, still wearing the oversized Ferrari shirt you slept in. Charles stands at the counter across from you, freshly showered and humming to himself as he browses his phone.

Setting your mug down, you grab an orange from the fruit bowl and start to peel it. Or at least you try. The tough rind puts up a stubborn fight, your nails scraping uselessly against it.

“Ugh, I hate peeling oranges,” you grumble after a minute. “Whose idea was it to make the peel so impossible?"

Charles glances up with a sympathetic smile. “Here, let me.”

He takes the orange from your hands and deftly digs his thumb into the top, effortlessly tearing the peel away in one long curl.

You watch in admiration as he strips the rest of the orange until it’s completely naked and ready to eat.

“Voila,” Charles presents it with a flourish. “One perfectly peeled orange for mon ange.”

“My hero,” you grin. You go to take it from him but Charles playfully keeps it out of reach.

“Ah ah, allow me,” he says. Holding your gaze, he gently pulls apart one glistening segment and brings it to your lips.

Happiness bubbles up in you at this sweet, unexpected gesture. You let Charles pop the orange slice into your mouth, savoring the bright citrus burst.

“Delicious,” you murmur. Charles smiles and leans in to kiss you softly, his thumb brushing a drop of juice from your lower lip.

One by one he continues to peel the segments and feed them to you, interspersing each with tender kisses that taste of orange and love.

You close your eyes blissfully, letting the sensual ritual relax you. Charles takes his time, not rushing. He knows this is your favorite part of the morning, stealing these private moments together before the busy day sweeps you both up.

When the last segment is gone, Charles kisses you again, deeper this time. You loop your arms around his neck, melting against him.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” you whisper when you finally separate.

Charles nuzzles your nose with his. “You may have said it once or twice. But I never get tired of hearing it.”

You lean into him contentedly. As always, his thoughtfulness and care warms you from the inside out.

Peeling an orange is such a small act but the meaning behind it speaks volumes. Charles knows your quirks and preferences, and cherishes these little opportunities to make your day brighter.

The little things that mean everything.

You’re still musing dreamily about this when Charles tips your chin up. “Where’d you go just now?” He asks with a curious smile.

You shake your head, focusing back on him. “Just thinking about us. And how perfectly you peel my oranges.”

Charles laughs. “Well I’m glad to be of service. I know how you hate getting orange string stuck under your nails.”

He kisses your fingertips one by one. “Can’t have anything marring these beautiful hands.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “Oh yes, I need to keep my hands soft and dainty in case a prince comes along to propose.”

Charles squawks in protest and tackles you against the counter, fingers digging into your sides to tickle you mercilessly. You dissolve into helpless giggles, swatting him away.

“No no, stop! I take it back!” You gasp.

Charles relents, holding you close and nuzzling into your hair. “Too late, you’re stuck with me now,” he murmurs, kissing your temple.

You snuggle into him contentedly. No fantasy prince could ever compete with the reality of Charles.

The Invisible String Theory

An invisible string connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance (the string may stretch or tangle but it will never break)

The living room is filled with laughter and happy chatter as you and Charles sit surrounded by both your families. Your wedding is only two days away, and his mother suggested gathering everyone together one night for reminiscing and quality time.

Looking through old photo albums is proving to be hilarious and heartwarming. Baby pictures, school plays, family vacations — memories preserved to embroider the story of your lives before fate brought you together.

Charles smiles wistfully as Lorenzo shows an album from their childhood. “I wish my godfather and father could have met you,” he says softly. “They would have loved you so much.”

You take his hand, leaning your head on his shoulder. His lost loved ones are always close to his heart.

Your mother passes an album to you with a smile. “Oh this one is from our trip to France when you were five! So many cute little Y/N photos.”

You roll your eyes but obligingly open the album, Charles peering over your shoulder. You flip through pictures of your younger self building sandcastles on the beach, wearing a hilariously large sun hat, beaming gappily with missing front teeth.

Charles grins down at you. “Adorable. I can’t wait for our kids to-”

He stops abruptly, staring down at the page. You follow his gaze to a photo of your family in Nice, taken in front of the Le Negresco hotel. And there in the background, almost out of frame — four familiar figures walking down the promenade.

A young Charles holds the hand of a teenage boy you immediately recognize as Jules. On Charles’ other side, his father Hervé carries a toddler Arthur.

Your breath catches sharply. The families fall silent around you. Charles’ fingers tremble slightly as they trace over the image.

“Of course we went to Nice often,” he whispers. “I had no idea ...” His voice trails off, thick with emotion.

Arthur cranes his head to see. “Is that us? With Papa and Jules?" He looks between you and Charles with wide eyes.

“Almost twenty years ago,” Lorenzo marvels. “And your paths were already crossing.”

Pascale wipes at her eyes, grasping Charles’ other hand tightly. “It was meant to be. Some invisible string tying you together even then.”

Charles’ fingers tremble as they trace over the image. For one brief, impossible moment, it feels like you’re all together — you, Charles, Jules, Hervé. Preserved in time, intersecting at the crossroads of past and future.

Though you never met in life, somehow you were all bound in that instant, tied by invisible strings of destiny. Strings that would one day guide you and Charles to each other.

It’s only a photo, yet looking at it you feel Jules and Hervé’s presence like a bittersweet embrace. As if across the years, they’re saying we know you. We love you. We’re so happy for you both.

You stare down at it, this captured moment of impossible synchronicity. A glimpse of the thread that wove itself silently through your lives until the day it finally drew you together.

Charles meets your eyes, his own shimmering with tears. Without words, you know he feels it too. The impossible link stretching back through time. Proof you were always meant to find each other.

He pulls you close, kissing the top of your head. “I believe that with all my heart, we’ve always been connected somehow.”

“Soulmates,” you whisper.

You cling to him, overwhelmed with certainty. Through accidents of time and geography, missteps and milestones, your story was always guiding you here.

Meant for each other. Destined, even then.

[idolindrawer]

Snap

IVE Yujin x Male Reader Smut 3.4k words

I'm not a native English speaker, so some expressions might sound odd. I'm always open to suggestions for improvement.

"Whatever you wish for will come true if you wish for it correctly,” the fortune teller says.

"That's not what I came here for," you say, stubbing out your cigarette in the ashtray with a huff of annoyance. "Don't you have any better advice?"

"This is the best advice I can give you," the fortune teller replies, completely unfazed. "The key is to do it correctly. Wishes need a trigger."

Growing increasingly irritated, you begin snapping your fingers repeatedly to vent your frustration. You came seeking guidance on how to improve your life, but this is a huge disappointment. 

The fortune teller seems oblivious to your anger and says cheerfully, "There you go, use that as your trigger. Whenever you make a wish, snap your fingers."

"This is like throwing 50,000 won down the drain," you sigh in exasperation, grabbing your bag and jacket, ready to leave the fortune teller's tent.

"Well, feel free to go,” the fortune teller says, looking surprised as if he had never met a customer who didn't believe in his words. "But it'll be worth 50,000 won if you give it a try."

Because of that fortune teller, the lunch break was wasted. You hurry along the path to your office, but as usual, you get held up by the traffic lights just 200 meters before. Being late is unavoidable.

While waiting, a bank advertisement on a nearby building catches your eyes. A celebrity girl dressed in the bank's signature green gives you a broad smile. You've seen her in other ads before. Isn't her name An Yujin or something? She must be a member of some idol group. You vaguely recall your niece being a huge fan.

Even when you look back at the red light of the traffic signal, you can’t get her out of your mind. How much did she earn from that bank ad, anyway? She’s probably around twenty, but her bank account must hold far more than my lifetime earnings... Damn it.

Seriously, if I were giving that huge amount of money to a young girl like her, I’d demand a much more provocative ad. I’d have her wear a skirt so short that her underwear can be seen in front of the press and have her shamelessly flaunt her ass to the cameras. Now that would be sure-fire marketing! You snap your fingers idly, indulging in this wicked fantasy of degrading celebrities to satisfy your ego.

Suddenly, someone's shoulder bumps into you from behind, jolting you back to reality. The light is green.

Just before leaving work, you scroll through social media and are stunned. It turns out that the girl from the ad you had seen at your lunch break was involved in a promotional event just a few hundred meters away. Moreover, she was wearing a skirt so short that it was almost revealing her underwear. The innocent young girl from the ad photo, now in a video from just two hours earlier, was dressed as if the whole of Korea had run out of fabric, shamelessly revealing her toned thighs to the gathered crowd. With a playful twirl, she revealed a glimpse of her white underwear covering her buttocks.

You happen to recall the words of that fortune teller: "Whenever you make a wish, snap your fingers." Did I actually snap my fingers? If so, then that fortune teller must have been a true psychic. If, as he said, wishes can really come true, is there anyone who wouldn't wish for something bigger?

Mesmerized by Yujin's legs on the screen, you swallow hard and imagine her sensual image. Tight-dressed Yujin is kissing in the dimly lit hotel room. As her dress is unzipped, black lace lingerie is revealed. Her buttocks are just covered with a bare minimum G-string, which she teasingly lets fall to her ankles, spreading her legs to accept the cock...

You snap your fingers once, forcefully. If this is going to work, the closer to her, the better chances might be. The event should have ended about an hour and a half ago, but is she still there? Hastily gathering your belongings, you clock out and run out of the office building towards the event venue.

The streets around the venue are teeming with people who have gathered information from social media, yet Yujin is nowhere to be seen. Disappointed to find that the event has ended, most people slowly drift into nearby cafes. Some remain standing, visibly dissatisfied, and frantically searching social media for any trace of her.

You open social media, but find it worthless due to the numerous accounts already capitalizing on her popularity and leveraging it to gain attention. “We're selling rare photo cards!” “Try this dating app for guaranteed meet-ups.” #IVE #YUJIN “Click here for an AI-generated celebrity sex tape...” In the sample video, a porn star with Yujin's face, digitally altered and occasionally glitching, kisses a naked man in a hotel room. His hand reaches for the zipper at her back, unzipping it to reveal her skin, which is trimmed with black lace lingerie...

Wait, can this really be the wish come true? The video is eerily close to what I imagined, but if this is it, then it’s a joke taken too far. The fortune teller must have been a fraud after all. Feeling everything is suddenly absurd, you shove your phone into your pocket and start walking toward the station.

Near the venue, the same posters of Yujin that you saw during the day are displayed, her trusting smile reaching out to you. The fortune teller's words echo in your mind: "The key is to do it correctly." What if the fortune teller was a genuine psychic, and the way to wish was wrong? The first wish came true, after all, and her sex was pulled off even in a rubbish way. It might be too early to conclude that he is a fake psychic.

There could be several reasons for the failure, but simply imagining her sex scene wasn't enough. That is, it requires imagining myself having sex with her. As vividly as possible, the feel of her body, myself slipping in between her legs...

You imagine carefully, snapping your fingers. Fate should take care of the rest. If this doesn't work, tomorrow I'll storm back to that fortune teller and demand my money back.

Before catching the train at the station, you detour slightly to use the public restroom. Using this station over 250 days a year, you know exactly where to find the always empty and relatively clean toilets.

You finish your business, wash your hands carelessly, and as you lift your head to see a tall girl staring at you from the mirror. Her white skirt is so short that her underwear is almost visible.

"An Yujin...ssi?"

It's definitely her. She's wearing the same outfit she had on at the daytime event, her arms crossed, looking slightly displeased at you.

"Why are you here?" you ask timidly. 

"Isn't this what you wanted?" With that, Yujin strides towards you, her hand reaching for the belt of your pants without hesitation. "Let's get this over with." 

Intimidated by the girl's boldness, you calmly scan the surroundings to ensure it’s safe, then guide her by the arm into the cleanest stall you can find.

"Are you the real An Yujin?" You whisper, keeping your voice low to avoid being heard. 

"There's another me?" She glances at you exasperatedly, then returns to dealing with your pants. With the same detachment as unlocking a door, she unbuckles your belt, lowers the zipper, and pulls off your pants. Her movements are awkward, but she's completely focused on her task, as if you weren’t even there, and that annoys you a little.

Despite her businesslike demeanor, every time her slender fingers brush against your lower body, your cock stiffens with the intimacy of contact you haven't felt in a long time and the anticipation of what's to come.

“But I haven't done anything yet?” Her fingers caress through your underwear, confirming your arousal. Looking satisfied with the heat of your groin, she smiles.

“May I take these off?” Before you can even nod, she’s already crouching down, pulling the waistband of your boxer briefs down to your ankles, revealing you completely.

Yujin remains crouched, staring at your exposed cock with interest. As you glance down, you notice her tight white mini shorts peeking out from under her skirt. Your cock responds to it, twitching with excitement before her eyes.

“You like being watched, huh?” Yujin says with a knowing smile. As she wraps her hand around your cock, giving it a few strokes, she stands up. You, expecting oral sex or something more, are disappointed and surprised. 

“Hey, is that all?”

"I'll do what you wished," she says with a mischievous grin. Then, balancing on her tiptoes and spreading her legs slightly, she holds your cock between the middle of her thighs carefully. "Feel free to move.”

You realize you've messed up again. When you snapped your fingers, you may have been too focused on her legs, and the wish was misinterpreted as thighfuck with her.

“Uh, wait a moment, let me snap my fingers again. This time, I’ll do it right,” you babble in a flustered tone, causing Yujin to look at you with curiosity. “Snap your fingers? What do you mean? Are you already satisfied?”

No way. The wish may have been downgraded, but it's the worst outcome to lose the favorable situation that's already come true. You pull yourself together and direct your full attention on the sensations of her two legs.

Her thighs are curvaceous compared to her slender waist, wrapping around your shaft and transferring her warmth from all directions. As you hold onto her thighs and move your body slowly back and forth, you can feel her bare, soft skin follow together, and the firm muscle layer beneath grips your cock tightly and never releases it.

"Your legs are incredibly gorgeous," you mutter, and for the first time, Yujin looks genuinely embarrassed. It's unclear why this celebrity girl was sent here, but it’s clear that she’s here to provide sexual services to this stranger, so why not make the most of it?

You put your hands on her hips and accelerate the reciprocating motions. As you press your lower body against her legs, the silky surface of her thighs ripples in response. Yujin grips your shoulders to stay balanced, trying to keep steady despite the constant kinetic energy. Your chin rests on her shoulder, and her hair brushes against your face. The sweet scent of her conditioner unexpectedly captivates you.

As sweat beads on your forehead, you wonder why, even though the wish was downgraded, things are still happening that you didn’t expect. Perhaps there’s no rule saying that once a wish is granted in a silly way, nothing else can occur. It might be up to the one who wished to make use of the situation.

To get the most out of the circumstances, you begin to secretly explore the boundary. Slide your hands back on her hips slightly, then cover her ass. There is no indication of her resistance. You knead on Yujin’s tight buttocks and move as if you were thrusting her. It seemed you heard a faint noise leak out of her mouth, but she didn’t stop you.

Then you bring your hands a little bit towards her waist, slipping them under the hem of Yujin’s blouse. Carefully touching her bra in her clothes, your eyes meet hers.

"Can I touch them?"

“Get it done quickly, okay?” Yujin says, looking away. You take that as approval and rub her breasts roughly. She's wearing something like a bandeau bra with no wires underneath her clothing, and you can feel the softness of her breasts even though they’re covered with the bra. But seized by an inevitable urge to see the hardness at the center, you forcefully pull the bra down.

Yujin's breasts are perfectly proportioned, and their distinct curvature and firmness bring a sense of satisfaction. When you touch their smoothness, you’re amazed to see your fingers sinking more than you expected. At the center, a reddish-brown areola the size of a coin surrounds a taut, protruding nipple. You pinch them lightly, then electricity runs through her body. She bashfully covers her mouth with the back of her hand, trying to hide her rough breath.

When you get carried away and go to kiss her, she pulls you away. With her flushed face, she said, “Focus on finishing this” while suffering the pleasure of her upper body.

As you explore Yujin’s youthful body freely, your cock is growing more sensitive and nearing release under the pressure of her thighs. However, your overwhelming passion for the ultimate goal makes it impossible to be satisfied with just releasing your desire between her legs.

“But I wanna be inside you.”

“Just come like this,” she responds bluntly. Expecting this answer, you decided to try another approach.

You stop moving for a moment, pull the hot shaft out from between her legs, lift her hips up, and then push it back in, at a higher position than before, so it can rub against her mini shorts.

“Wait, what are you…” Yujin becomes upset, but when you start moving it, she lets out a small moan. Thrusting your thickness, you can feel the softness of her pussy through the fabric. As you adjust the angle to hit her sweet spot, her hips twitch slightly in response to the pleasure.

Yujin grabs your shoulders and lowers her head, rounding her back to resist the temptation. Although you can't see her face, her shallow, quickened breaths sync with your sensation. You shift one of your hands from her hips to her chest, palming her breast and teasing her nipple with your fingertips.

Her short cry echoes in the empty train station restroom, and both you and she look at each other in surprise. The air feels frozen for a moment, but as you realize there’s no one around to hear it, you both resume the session.

As you gaze into Yujin's eyes, she meets your stare with disheveled hair and a messy face. She is flushed and damp with sweat, and her eyebrows are filled with shame and pleasure. Every time you tease her breasts with a nipple, she bites her lower lip, indicating that your treatment isn’t wrong.

“Keep going,” Yujin murmured with words that were neither order nor plea, revealing her desperate need for ecstasy. You see this as an opportunity to negotiate with her in the heat of the moment.

"After I get it into you," you say clearly, and Yujin seems unsure of how to respond, looking confused. The wish granted you fake sex with IVE's Yujin, but if you want anything more, you’ll have to achieve it on your own. So, does this mean that the An Yujin in front of you is genuinely struggling with whether or not to accept your cock, regardless of the power of the wish?

You think the last push is necessary and sneak your hand inside her shorts, searching for her clit. Her pussy is already soaking wet, and as you slide your fingers on her sensitive skin, which is coated with lube, unbearable pleasure spreads throughout her body. Yujin lets out a muffled moan, and she hugs your neck to keep herself from collapsing. Finally, she gives in and says, "Okay, okay.”

She looks at you awkwardly, pinches the waistband of her shorts, and then lowers them with a polite gesture. As she lifts her leg and removes the high heels from her shorts, you catch a glimpse of her completely shaved pussy. With a hand on the stall door, she turns around and slightly lifts her skirt, presenting her buttocks to you.

"Oppa, hurry up.”

Her curt tone sounded like a cheap whore, which rather turned you on. You place your cock against her wet labia and press gently. You are permitted to enter through her moist skin and proceed into her feverish depth. As your head glides along with her mucus walls, she groans in sensation. Retracing the path, you feel her pussy waves and grips your cock tightly, pulling you back to inside.

While you teasingly savor her insides, Yujin gestures with her sweaty hand to thrust more. You grab her waist roughly and drag her buttocks toward your pelvis. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo through the empty restroom, her buttocks undulating, and the young idol's unrestrained cries fill the air.

Yujin's breathing becomes irregular and intense as a result of your relentless thrusting. She tries to soften the impact by moving away from you, but the small stall offers no escape. Despite her effort, the insistent slamming continues unabated, and she appears to be on the edge of collapse.

“Oppa, I need a…" She manages to whisper, shaken by the assault from behind. You pretend not to hear her while constantly stirring her pussy. You fiercely grasp the artistic shape of her ass with both hands, thrusting the heated shaft in and out of the lubricated hole in the center.

With one thrust, Yujin rounds her back and convulses her whole body. After a few seconds of trembling, exhaustion overwhelms her, and she’s about to fall. You quickly catch her, turn her around, and sit her down on the lid of the closed toilet.

Her face is flushed red, and she is barely catching her breath. Her nipples move up and down as she breathes, and her legs hang on either side of the toilet, displaying her undressed lower body. The contrast with her cheerful smile in the advertisement is intensely stimulating, but you avoid staring at her to keep her from realizing how she looks now and getting back to reality.

Yujin's inner thighs are glistening with a few streaks of wetness. You take and place them on your shoulders, inserting your still-hot cock from the front. She moans softly and becomes addicted to the sensation of your shaft stretching out her vagina.

As you push your cock through her labia and into her depth, the force causes her breasts to jiggle. You are immersed in the awareness of your movements piercing through her entire body, unable to stop yourself from moving frantically. Instinct guides your hands to her swinging breasts, your lips to her sweat-slicked neck, and then to her lips for a kiss. This time, Yujin doesn’t resist and gives in to your approach. You and this idol caress each other's lips, entwine their tongues, and share the taste of saliva.

Slamming your shaft into Yujin's pussy, you rub her clit with the thumb of one hand a few times. She twists her face and manages to remain silent in a desperate effort, but as the moment of release approaches again, her expression turns into a mix of fear and anticipation.

She presses both hands against her mouth, and after a split-second of weakness, her body trembles with orgasm on the toilet lid. Her inside is spasming around your cock, but you can't stop moving because you feel the dopamine approaching. Thrusting her lube-soaked, fluttering cunt just a few times, hot semen rushes into her depths.

Breathing heavily, you and Yujin watch the cock is pulled out of her pussy, which is glistening with mucus, and the sperm runs out. Yujin's hair is tangled, and she appears fatigued, but there is a strange satisfaction on her face as she looks at the spilled secretions.

As you're wrapping the toilet paper, you hear a few men entering the restroom. Hey, come on. It's gonna take a while to get out. The instant you are distracted by the noise outside, you feel a warm, wet touch on your lower body. Yujin is bending over, eagerly putting your cock into her mouth, and bobbing her head to suck out every last drop of your cum. Surprised, yet unable to resist the seductive sensation of her tongue gliding over your shaft, your cock quickly returns to its earlier state.

"Looks like we can't go out yet," leaving lips from your cock, Yujin whispers teasingly. "There's still time for another round, right?” she says, carefully sitting back down on the toilet lid so as not to make any noise, and spreading her graceful long legs wide.

Damn, it’s really worth 50,000 won.

[janovavalen]

✧when social media calls so does the questions || walker scobell x fem!reader

summary: after fans have created more and more of a scene with y/n l/n and walker scobell they are asked about it in their first interview together.

warning: friendly reminder the people/faces i use are just for the aesthetic ofc imagine it’s you bc we’re on that level of delulu<3

as they day went by y/n sat in her hotel room with her dressers, makeup and nail artist all around . this was probably one thing y/n enjoyed about being who she was and doing what she did.

she got to say there while people made her look pretty at the amazing work they did on her. however, though some of the dresses and suits she had to wear were sometimes out of the ordinary or just tight in general, they always made sure to capture her natural color and make her outfits look beautiful on her.

today y/n would be getting interviewed after she got ready—so was aryan, leah and walker of course. she was beyond nervous, exited? but definitely mostly nervous. she hated when she had to sit in front of a camera—well, it came more naturally when she was acting because she wasn’t really being herself.

but when it came to being interviewed, she was half of the time being told what to say, monitored at all times and some other genuine answers were cut out. she guessed it would probably be more dramatic for the audience and the interviewer.

‘miss. l/n, your being called’ one of her managers called out to her as she was just getting her last piece of clothing on.

‘oh—okay!’ she called back. as her stylist got her finished up and ready she smiled and thanked everyone who gave her a huge smile back while they waved her goodbye.

but before she could leave, she obviously had to take some pictures.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

the second y/n stepped out of her hotel room was as if on the sam strike as the rest of her friends. aryan, leah and walker came out of their separate room with their outfits on.

leah wore a beautiful dress and her afro, aryan wore a simple green shirt and black pants and walker wearing a black jacket with dark blue jeans.

‘okay why is it only me and leah going all out for these outfits?’ y/n placed her hands out motioning to the fact the boys were dressed as if they were going out on a casual walk and y/n and leah to the met gala.

‘well…talk to my styalist with that because i can’t give you an answer’ aryan commented with a smile as y/n laughed a bit. holding her phone in her hand along with her purse.

walker had subconsciously found himself waiting for her to walk beside him which didn’t go unnoticed by aryan and leah.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

as the group walked outside was then the lights began flashing in a hurry. the dark sky around them already causing enough ruckus to other people trying to sleep in the hotel, y/n and the group has stopped to give the crowd what they want.

their pictures.

as they did y/n and walker stood arm to arm. him holding the back of his hand along the back half of her back.

while they smiled, waved, posed and did some silly things out of habit. they finally seen their car was ready, signaling it was time to go, so they all began to walk.

but as y/n did she had felt her shoe get caught on something causing her to stop for a second, walker behind somehow able to feel her presence stopped immediately and looked down to her shoe.

‘oh—wait i got it it’s okay—‘

‘no wait let me help’ walker pulled back and leaned down on his knee to see her heel was stuck on the vent of the ground outside. once he got it out someone yelled—‘it’s like a real life cinderella story!’ causing the crowed to awh and flash their cameras faster.

y/n placed her hand over her mouth and nervously laughed as did walker who placed his hand back against her back and let it hold there as they walked.

when they got in the car they immediately sighed of relief from the outside media not being able to get as good pictures but still tired of course.

‘i don’t think ill ever get over this—the lights might be the cause of me going blind to be honest’ leah mumbled while holding her head in her hands, enjoying the heat of the car in this time of day which was a bit cold outside.

‘yeah, i think we should i hide all night and only take pictures in the day or something so they don’t use pictures’

‘that just gives me even more the reason to stay home, so i’m going along with that plan’ y/n smiled at aryan who laughed.

as they drove to their destination, they all had to take pictures and of course videos for their spam’s and personal cameras rolls for memory’s.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

when they arrived to their interview destination, the four of them sat in their chairs.

leah and y/n sat next to each other. walker and scobell seated next to each other—so the order being leah, y/n, walker, and aryan.

‘okay, are you guys ready?’ the interviewer asked with a warm smile, they all nodded their heads and y/n gave a nervous thumbs up as she smiled making walker laugh.

‘okay, we’re on in—3,2,1–‘

looking a bit over at the camera pointed towards her she started—‘hello my name is racheal james and i am here with���‘

‘leah jeffries’ she smiled

‘y/n l/n’ she nervously twisted with her hands—

‘walker scobell’ who gave a smile and soon—‘aryan simhardi’ who waved to the camera.

‘hi! hello, welcome hope things went well as you got here?’

‘uh yeah—y’know, paparazzi, yelling, lights—it went amazing’ walker looked at the racheal who laughed, y/n smiled a bit while she touched a bit of her face as leah and aryan laughed a bit.

‘as usual, as usual—so! i have been dying to ask, how did you guys all get along when you were casted for percy jackson?’

‘uhm, we did pretty good? i mean i came in a bit late since my character doesn’t show up till episode four so i got a bit more time to pack at home but y’know, i think i get along with them amazingly’

‘yeah—i mean, when we all met y/n she was very warm and an inviting person, every funny and so energetic i just love her presence’ walker told while looking at y/n who warmly smiled and placed her hand over her mouth.

‘okay! the two of them!? i can’t! they always do this! it’s constant—‘ leah pointed at the two as she yelled and laughed making y/n and walker nervously laugh.

‘that’s what i was going to say! is it always like that?’ racheal smiled at them.

‘oh my—yes! all the time. on set, at dinner, hang outs—anywhere!’ aryan commented while y/n shook her head with a eye roll and walked just smiled, his face red.

‘okay but wait—so, as you all know, the comments on instagram are going insane over walker and y/n i wanted to ask how do you two feel about it? is it uncomfortable? is it truth or just fans being fans?’

‘uhm….i wouldn’t call them fans just more of very distant friends and family? but im not uncomfortable with it all all—‘

‘yeah no i’m not either, it’s kinda funny and amusing to see everyone piece things together more than some do in the show’ walker shrugged as y/n laughed.

‘ou? so, are you denying or backing up on the rumors that the famous (c/n) and percy jackson may be lovers outside of percy jackson?’

leah immediately looked at aryan who’s eyes snapped to walker and y/n.

the two of them nervously touched their faces while shrugging—‘i—um?’

‘yeah, so…y’know?’ the lot laughed as they watched the two teens nervously try to figure out what to say.

‘okay! i’m sorry i’m sorry to make you uncomfortable! let’s just move onto the next question yeah?’ she smiled while flipping through papers.

y/n placed her hand over her face and sighed deeply to calm herself as for walker who looked at her with a smile and a red warm face.

ㆍ୨୧ㆍ

about a couple hours later when the interview was done y/n and walker decided to split from the group who had happened to all want to go out to dinner just to hang out.

walker badly wanted to be with y/n but not when she was occupied with the other group, so he pulled her away from the group for a little bit just to talk which y/n didn’t mind in the slightest.

the two of them were standing on the sidewalk as they talked and laughed together.

‘when she asked what was going on in the comments i’m not going to lie i kind of freaked out like i was like—dude what the hell do i say? what do i do?’ walker revealed as he sheepishly moved a bit closer to y/n who did as well.

‘oh my god—same, i was so nervous i didn’t know what i was going to day next to try and recover from that’ she laughed as walker nodded his head in agreement while he placed a small hand on her arm which she didn’t take note of.

after a laugher died down a bit, the two of them stood in a bit of silence as they felt the cold air breeze past them. since y/n wore a outfit that had no jacket, walker had given her his jacket back at the restaurant after seeing cold chills on her arm.

as y/n held her arms with the jacket getting warmer, walker couldn’t held but admire how pretty she looked under the yellow light of the street pole next to them.

‘you looked really pretty’ he smiled as she placed a hand over her mouth to smile widely before placing it back down to her side.

‘thank you…your not too bad yourself’ she teased as he faked a gasp making her laugh. this only prompted him to go after her with his arms around her shoulders as she laughed out loud while he moved their bodies to the side aggressively.

her face being mashed between chest and arm.

‘oh my god! my makeup!’ she cried out with a laugh as he completely ignored her with his own laughter.

once they were done moving he leaned down to give her a kiss on her cheek making the both of them grow warm and red. she smiled deeply while placing her arms around his waist. the two of them embracing each other in the dead of night.

yourinstagram

liked by dior.n.goodjohn, leahavajeffries, aryansimhardi , yourmom and others 

yourinstagram if you guys don’t know…i’m literally terrified of doing almost anything thanks to final destination

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dior.n.goodjohn dude imagine the cars just blowing up out of nowhere while you guys were driving it…

↳ yourinstagram I WAS IMAGINING THAT THE WHOLE TIME WHILE WALKER JUST LAUGHED LIKE WHATS FUNNY?

↳ walker.scobell IT WAS FUNNY BC U WERE CRYING 😭!?

↳ yourinstagram that was supposed to stay between us.😒

↳ walker.scobell oh. 

iamcharliebushnell that’s insane you thought that while driving the whole time

↳ leahsavajeffries i would’ve just got off at that point 😭

↳ walker.scobell oh trust she tried but i didn’t let her leave me on there alone after i paid for that

user282 AHHH MORE WALKER AND Y/N CONTENT<33333

user200 they’re hand feeding us at this point bc omg😭

user1011 i literally love them sm—DID YALL SEE THOES PAPARAZZI PICS OF THEN CUDDLED UP OUTSIDE???

↳ yourinstagram PAPARAZZI PICS?

walker.scobell

liked by yourinstagram, leahsavajeffries, dior.n.goodjohn, aryansimhardi and others

walker.scobell i think y/n enjoys my phone more than her own phone

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yourinstagram i enjoy your phone bc u have storage 🧍🏽‍♀️

↳ walker.scobell OUUUU so just take all mine? got it got it

↳ yourinstagram DONT ACT FUNNY ON HERE BC U TOLD ME TOO U TOLD ME IT WAS OKAY!?

↳ walker.scobell *gulps*

dior.n.goodjohn LOOK AT MY CHILDRENNNNB OMG

iamcharliebushnell they grow up so fast☹️

↳ walker.scobell why r u guys acting like your nearing your eighties

user111 LOOK AT THEMMMNM OMG GGOGMGMGMGMGM

user1034 they’re cuties

user77 i can’t believe they’re actually together like someone don’t pinch me if this is a dream i don’t wanna wake up from it

↳ yourinstagram awh😭?

↳ walker.scobell okay this is adorable though

walker.scobell

liked by walker.scobell, dior.goodjohn, iamcharliebushnell and others

walker.scobell no comment

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dior.n.goodjohn GET THHHHHHHHHHHH SHHHHH OUT PF HERE OMG

iamcharliebushnell okay but how many times have they hung out without us is the real question

leahsavajeffries alright yall not to much

↳ walker.scobell HUH😭

yourmom i’m so happy you make her happy☺️

↳ walker.scobell awh mrs.l/n

↳ yourinstagram awh mom STOP☹️

yourinstagram that busted up camera ain’t give no promises

↳ walker.scobell that’s what happens when you drop it like thirty times…

user11000 LOOK AT THEM GUYSSSSSS AHHHH

user220 i’m so happy i shipped them the second i saw them on screen together and irl

user1479 the fact they are literally two half’s of a whole is proof soulmates are real

taglist: @callsignwidow

[certifiedfreec]

・❥・close - gojo satoru x f!reader (crossposted on ao3!) ・❥・

⊹ oh nooo you’re trapped in a hotel room with gojo… and there’s only one bed… ahhhhh

⊹ 18+, smut, frenemies to lovers, a ridiculous amount of banter

⊹ word count: 9.8k (i’m so normal about him lol…)

“Well fuck.”

Mouth agape, you stand tiredly beside your overly cheeky partner-in-exorcises, surveying the last available hotel suite that’s closest to your current assignment. Cramped could describe it if you’re feeling generous, as the sparse amenities make the single queen-sized bed in the center of the room look like a California King. The overblown stock photos of generic flowers hanging haphazardly above the bed are nearly mocking the otherwise drab room, and the dim lighting makes it all look more dingy than romantic given the scenario you’re in.

One bed left in this overbooked “hotel…” This has to be a fever dream.

“I call the left side!”

Said partner, Satoru Gojo, is oblivious to your inner turmoil as he languidly steps into the room with his singsong tone, surveying what little it has to offer with an otherwise calm expression. God, this guy gets on your nerves, but not for any pertinent or extravagant reason. Really, he just carries himself a little too cockily for your taste, like he’s used to people fawning over him for doing nothing. While you work well together for the most part, there’s something about his presence that just makes you-

“You can take the whole thing,” you grumble dismissively, carefully moving around him to set your backpack down on the warped work desk. You’d sooner sleep in the bathtub even if it was soaking wet, you think.

Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets with how hard they roll when you hear him let out a feigned hum of disappointment. You can sense him studying your every move, even through that stupid blindfold thing he’s always got on.

“Bummer. You scared you’re gonna catch some cooties? I’m not contagious.” Gojo tuts playfully, shaking his black jacket off and tossing it over the back of the chair. “Guess that means more room for me!” He wastes wastes no time in flopping onto the middle of the stiff mattress with a grin, and part of you can’t help but admire- no, simply notice, you tell yourself- how his shockingly white hair and pale skin contrasts the dull, dated comforter. He’s got a white button down on, and you’re tempted to call him a bloodsucking vampire with how translucent he looks. Humming to himself, he reaches for the remote that practically shrinks in his large hands, clicking the clunky TV on and watching it take a few minutes to whir to life.

You’re unsure what to do with yourself, but you’re determined to put some space between the two of you with whatever happens. It’s unfortunate when you realize that you really might not be successful with that endeavor, given your dwarfed hotel room that could trigger any sane person’s claustrophobia. It didn’t help that this guy already took up most of the lackluster room with just his body, either. Your eyes flicker over to your work partner, who appears unnervingly okay with this turn of events. With a deep sigh, you pull out the creaky chair and slump defeatedly onto the desk. You’re careful to scoot to the edge of the chair so your back doesn’t make contact with his resting jacket, and he doesn’t miss your obvious attempt at distance. It’s known by many that he’s always been a huge fan of himself, and you’d be damned if you ever let him think you were part of that club, too.

“Hey, careful with the outerwear.” Gojo’s selectively ignoring your clear discomfort, opting to poke at you anyway because he just does that. “That’s a pricey jacket, y’know.” His face is serene as he’s clicking through the available channels and making his own little noises when each show is less intriguing than the next.

“Right… I’ll try my best,” you reply disinterestedly with a yawn. You rest your face on the cool wood- anything to mentally take yourself out of the painfully tiny space you and this massive human were expected to share for the evening. It’s been a long day of mundane yet necessary work, and apparently the real work is supposed to happen tomorrow. Being instructed last minute to change your stopping point for the day, you were left with no choice but to call around in a new area until you found an option. Gojo simply shrugged and started searching, not even slightly irritated at the change of plans. It irks you how little your colleague is bothered by, well, anything, because it has to be disingenuous at some point, right? Over time you’ve realized that with him, it truly is a brazen confidence- a kind that you decided was more dangerous than reassuring in reference to your line of work. It’s just unnatural- then again, nothing in your field is, so what’s your real issue with him? The question always leaves you befuddled at your core, and now it’s glaring in your face with the close quarters you’re sharing.

After some time spent listening to Gojo’s disjointed chuckles at whatever was playing, you take out your phone to text Shoko about your dreaded situation. This’ll be a long night, you think, grasping at straws to reason that it’s only temporary and that the smell of his spicy cologne will soon fade away from your senses. You have to say though, the scent fits him pretty well…unlike this miniature room you’re both posted up in.

Your eyes betray you when they briefly flit over again at the man lounging across the bed. It’s quite the spectacle, as the ends of his gangly legs and feet are dangling awkwardly over the edge, yet his expression is serene. The word "cute" passes through your mind and you immediately shush it by reflex, but it’s not as strong as the newfound proximity that prompts you to finally tease him in a dry tone: “Jesus, you’re taking up the whole thing and it’s still not enough.”

“Tell me about it.” He’s quick to react to your statement, and you swear you see his broad chest huff with amusement out of your peripheral. “It must be the price to pay when you’re a dreamy, charming, six foot three Jujutsu Sorcerer,” he adds in a lighthearted tone that seeks feigned sympathy. You’re not looking at him anymore, but you can guess that he’s batting the long white eyelashes that decorate his electric blue eyes. Meanwhile, you’re battling a smile.

Shoko’s not answering your SOS texts, so you actually decide to take the bait in the meantime. “You poor thing,” you coo halfheartedly, “It’s just never enough for you.” You shift, draping your arm over the back of the cheap desk chair that warps under your weight.

“You’re so right! I’m glad someone finally understands.” He points a finger at you, clearly pleased that you’re bantering along, and then he rests that same finger on his pointed chin. “Speaking of nothing ever being enough, I’m starving.” He suddenly sits up, making the bed creak with his movement. It’s apparent that his focus has shifted from the lifeless television show to you. “Who delivers around here?”

Gojo’s nonchalant behavior has the opposite effect on you- it’s disconcerting. At the same time, a very quiet part of you wants to warm up to the idea of finding it endearing. Being annoyed by him was all you knew- how could you ever change now?

The noise that escapes him is pure juvenile glee when you wordlessly open up a delivery app on your phone and sling the device over to him, which he catches with ease before scavenging through the limited number of nearby restaurants. If anything, you’ve never seen him so locked in. You hear him murmur his commentary to himself as he swipes through, picking out his order from his spot on the bed (which is basically the whole thing), and then he abruptly stands up with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. Without watching him, you hear his steps move somewhere behind your seat.

“Hey, your girlfriend Shoko is texting you. I had no idea I was such a hot subject! Well, maybe I did.”

Oh shit. The heart that previously resided in your chest has plummeted to your stomach. You completely forgot you’d been virtually begging her for moral support when you first arrived at your shoebox of a room.

You muster all your inner strength to maintain a semblance of cool. “Is she on her way to save me?”

The grin on his face is nearly glowing as he reads your screen. “Hah, you wish. It says, and I quote, ’Sorry I’m just now seeing these! How are you and your “Honored One” doing? I promise he’s not as bad as you think he is, LOL.’”

You can feel all the blood in your body rush to your face as Gojo continues to read the message, who is doing everything to refrain from bursting into a fit of laughter. “’At least he’s not the worst looking, and you guys are gonna have to share a bed anyway. Wink emoji, wink emoji.’”

Your world comes screeching to an ugly halt. In this moment, you remind yourself to never text Shoko while you’re in the same room as him- ever again.

“Oh my god… You’re lying. Stop it!” You feel a wave of sickeningly nervous giggles threaten to rack through your body as you fly out of your rickety seat, marching over to the lanky sorcerer and swiping at him for your phone. He tsks, holding the device up from your reach with a mischievous tilt of his head, and you’re sure that you’ve never been this flushed with humiliation before. His muscled arm holds your phone up revealing the chat, and unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. And his voice? It’s smug, obnoxiously so as he taunts you. “This is so much more interesting than ordering food right now. I think I’m gonna answer her. What should I say?”

“Give it back, Satoru Gojo.” You glower up at him, silently knowing your efforts are futile due to your drastic height difference- and that goddamn Infinity ability of his that he loved to show off.

“Oooh, don’t say my full name. It really scares me,” Gojo gasps mockingly before making a show of squinting up at the screen and beginning to type with his other hand. “Let’s try this.” His fingers begin to dance across the screen. “’Shoko, I think I might be falling for Satoru Gojo, all six foot three of him. We’ve had such a romantic evening-‘"

“Jesus Christ, hand it over already!” You’re reaching your limit with tolerating his antics, body teeming in some liminal space between annoyance and mortification. You stretch up again to try and pluck the phone only to make contact with nothing. Fucking showoff. He’s still got his blindfold on, and you’re unable to see how his eyes are completely shimmering with mirth and self-satisfaction.

“Aaand, sent! I think she’ll like that. Anyway, go ahead and add your order to the cart. It’s on me- I remembered to bring the JuJutsu High credit card this time!” Gojo carries on casually like he hasn’t just done the equivalent of planting an explosive in your text messages, feeling incredibly proud of himself as he plops the phone back into your open palm. Glaring up at him and his resilient grin, you are entirely uninterested in eating any kind of food right now. He thinks it’s kind of cute how quickly your face turns ruby red.

You stare at your violated device, blinking in disbelief before looking back up at him. “You’re a real motherfucker, you know that?” You challenge, though your voice isn’t as hostile as it should be.

His large hands fly up defensively. “Whoa, who says I don’t go for daughters either?”

He’s maddening. How do his students stand him? Your free palm has never moved so fast to your face. Resolving into your clunky self-assigned seat, your butt collides firmly with cold wood. “You’re right. Who don’t you go for?” You huff.

Gojo chuckles with his whole chest as he moves to sprawl out over the miniature bed, returning to the original position he was in before he hijacked your text conversation. With blindfolded eyes focused back on the hazy television screen, his hands lock behind his head as he shrugs indifferently. “Never been a big fan of Geminis, to be honest.”

Unreal. He could talk to you in circles like this forever, and only because he knows he gets under your skin that way. You resign, eyeing your phone screen and scrolling through the restaurant he picked to order delivery from. He’s got quite the spread in the cart, complete with an elaborate dessert that could’ve wiped out your savings account.

“Clearly a fan of cheesecake though, holy shit.” The jab doesn’t come out as mean as you intend it to, and honestly, you aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be capable of treating him with this much animosity. You’re already tired, and if you were any more awake you’d realize that your work partner was slowly wearing your guard down, quip by cocky quip.

“Right again. Don’t you just love getting to know me through our intimate time together?”

Shoko is spamming you with an endless barrage of confused and shocked emojis, and you’re far too sleep-deprived to reply. Your entire body flushes at his words as they reverberate in your mind. Intimate is not the right word. No, it shouldn’t be, more like invasive. Right?

“Couldn’t be happier,” you reply curtly, mindlessly picking out whichever menu items are at the top before punching in the room number and credit card info, which was smoothly slid onto the table by Gojo without your prior notice. With your back to him, his gratification is on full display as he pretends to watch whatever crappy show is playing. Winning is his favorite thing in the world, and grating on your nerves is a close second- though really, the two coincide. Part of him wonders how much further he can blur that line.

——————————————————————————————————-

The comically large bag of food is immediately torn open by an eager Gojo the second it lands on the hotel room’s table, and he’s forking together a messy array of sides onto his plate before dragging over a lounge chair from the corner next to yours. He’s sitting far too close for your comfort, but you begrudgingly comply. It wasn’t like he was going to go away anytime soon, even though the night would be so much easier that way. As he shovels his dinner into his mouth, your mind aimlessly ventures as to how he keeps his form so trim with an appetite like that. He’s got to have a strict workout regimen somewhere, though “strict” is a word not often associated with him-

“Hey, your food’s gonna get cold if you keep staring like that.”

Your eyes widen in record time. It’s a hideous realization that you’ve zoned out on watching the renowned sorcerer-turned-temporary-roommate inhale his overpriced dinner, all from being overcome with either exhaustion or acceptance of your cramped situation. At this point, it’s maybe a little of both.

“Sorry,” you mumble, not even caring to articulate a more acidic response. It seems you’re beginning to neutralize into Gojo’s presence, and he mentally takes note of your changing chemistry with him as you quietly stab at your steak bites.

He’s got the perfect opportunity to coo something vain back, like “Don’t apologize, I’d stare too if it were me,” but he doesn’t. He simply keeps eating, sparing you with a less than uncomfortable silence. It’s never been the worst thing between you two given your extensive work history, and you feel yourself soften slightly when the bland hotel room’s air isn’t filled with his assumptive commentary for once. As your plates both get emptier, he feels this sudden need to hold your attention, as you’re less likely to be as combative as you’ve been before. You’re... not so set on hating him.

“You tired?”

Gojo’s two-worded inquiry jars you, almost to the point of choking on your bread. It's something genuine. He closes up one of the empty to-go boxes and shoves it into the takeout bag before pulling out the monstrosity that is his slice of cheesecake. For some reason your heart stammers at how refreshing the possibility of a real conversation with him could actually be.

You’ve got the perfect opportunity to snap something defensive back, like “Yeah, of you,” but you don’t. His shiny eyes shift under the fabric of his blindfold to you, almost prompting you to answer.

“…Yeah, I must be making it pretty obvious,” you say, unintentionally yawning and proving his point. If you were any more relaxed with him, he would’ve told you how cute you looked doing that. You secure your leftovers and start to chuck them into the bag before a large hand suddenly stops you with a “gimme” motion.

“Judging by how easily you’re willing to waste that perfectly good food…it’s not hard to tell,” he prods at you with a grin that you would’ve unnerved you earlier, but at this hour it’s a little more welcoming. Is that a snicker that comes out of you? You hand over the half-eaten order of steak bites to his jubilation, and he’s already popping open the lid to pick one up with his fingers.

Curse your brain in its exhausted state, because it’s nearly hypnotized by his digits. They’re long, dextile, confident somehow. They’re slender and defined, yet capable of serious damage- this you know all too well, and that excites you more than it should. The slice of meat dwarfs in his hold, its shiny reddish myoglobin starting to trickle down his hand and wrist, and it decorates his fine veins and tendons there with its sheen…

No, there’s no way you’re jealous of a piece of meat right now. Did you seriously feel a flutter somewhere that you shouldn’t? Satoru Gojo is literally eating your leftovers with his bare, grubby hands, and you’ve made the fatal error of finding it attractive. Yeah, you’re definitely sleeping in the bathtub tonight before your conflicted mind wanders any further.

He munches on the remainder of your dinner before finally digging into the cheesecake, and you feel blessed for the distraction from your shifting thoughts when you two chat about the mission at hand tomorrow. Is he worried about the curses you’ll be dealing with? No, of course not. According to him, he’s only worried about messing up his hair. Oh, and that expensive jacket you were careful not to touch earlier. With that all that added up, maybe he is nervous about it.

When the conversation dies down, the only sound in the unimpressive hotel room is the game show now playing on the practically vintage television. You quietly scroll your phone while your colleague digs into the soft dessert, stopping suddenly to stick his fork out to you.

“Want a bite? And before you say no, I already told you my cooties aren’t contagious.”

Is this real kindness? You whip your head to face him, studying the glob of caramel-drizzled sweetness, and he’s waving the fork around like a magic wand complete with some convincing “whoosh” sound effects. It’s even more comical with the way he fills his seat, almost like he’s sitting in a doll’s chair. The sight beside you makes you stifle a laugh, and in that moment you realize something: while he constantly irritates you, Satoru Gojo is the brightest, liveliest thing in that damn room. It’s not saying much given the plain wallpaper, dull sheets, and dusty furniture, but it all amounts to him looking pretty good despite your surroundings. If you weren’t sober right now, you’d admit that he looks pretty good just about anywhere. He’s so unfitting, literally, in the drab, cramped space that you almost want to let that very laugh out.

“Eh…I don’t believe you, but even if they weren’t... I couldn’t avoid them in this room anyway,” you joke sleepily, reaching for the fork and pushing the bite of cheesecake past your lips. He’s sitting pretty close, near enough that his spicy cologne still dances in your senses, but if he were any closer you’d swear you could spot him watching how your lips attached so tightly around the plastic silverware. You’re trying desperately to avoid the fact that sharing the fork was like indirectly kissing him, because if you think about it long enough it’ll make you blush all over again. So much for keeping a distance between you two.

You realize something else: he might’ve had a point with his dessert selection. “That is pretty good,” you commentate, handing him back the fork. There’s almost a soft expression on his blindfolded face when he wordlessly pushes the rest of the heaping slice between the two of you, as if the sugary dessert could substitute for a peace treaty. This is how all truces should go, you silently decide.

“Here, have some more in case you die tomorrow,” Gojo tuts with a grin, knowing fully well that you’d be perfectly fine during your assignment the next day. He loves to poke at you, but he can also recognize all the hard work you do. Hell, putting up with him was a full-time job, he could admit.

Your mouth flies open to let out a lighthearted “You asshole,” and you reflexively move to smack his shoulder. You’re even more shocked when your palm actually makes contact with the muscle there..as is he.

Gojo had turned his Infinity off. He must’ve gotten so caught up in wanting to break down your guard this evening that he neglected to remember his own.

“No way, I actually landed a hit on the Satoru Gojo,” you beam. Triumphantly taking another bite of the cheesecake, you feel his gaze train on you. His face-chiseled, you have to say- is conveying something unidentifiable. There’s some surprise and some amusement, but there’s another emotion lingering in the slight rise of his light eyebrows and his relaxed jaw. Something deeper, almost longing. It honestly concerns you for a moment, but he’s quick to recover by slumping backward over the chair, clutching a hand where yours landed just seconds before.

“Abuse! How dare you!” He declares, gripping his shoulder in the throes of his dramatics. “Yaga will be hearing about this. I’m reporting you to the higher-ups!”

“Don’t even. I’ll tell them you sabotaged my technology then,” you counter, waving your phone. “Oh, and that you misused company funds.” You point accusingly at the heap of cheesecake between you both. “And then we’ll both get fired.”

His fists hit the table as he falls forward dramatically. “Ugh…But then we’d end up living here,” he sighs woefully, “and that would be the worst part of all.”

You openly crack up at his refreshing honesty, finally recognizing this room for the shithole that it is, and you feel a newfound warmth spread throughout your chest. “Hmmm… But then we could keep ordering this cheesecake.” Maybe you like bantering with him, you decide.

Gojo chuckles as he stands up from his seat, dragging it back to where it resided in the corner and going along with your bit. “Not if we can’t ‘misuse our funds,’ you tattletale. We better start thinking of a side hustle to keep our lifestyle going.”

There’s a certain weight to “we”s and “our”s that make your heart palpitate just the slightest. It’s like a promise of a future together, a future beyond the uninspiring walls you were forced to rest in tonight. Still in your fit of tired giggles, you close up the remainder of the dessert before sticking it in the hotel room’s loud, antiquated mini fridge. The change of pace between you both is almost freeing, allowing you to consider the idea of actually sleeping somewhat soundly tonight.

“Well, you ponder on that. I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You’re quick to tuck into the bathroom as your laughter dies down, taking your bag with you to switch into the pajamas you packed. All the while, you’re secretly wondering what the sleeping situation is going to look like. You know you’re desperate for rest and given how the evening between you two has warmed a little, the idea of sharing the tiny bed with Gojo is…less than awful to you now. You step out, only to gasp when said man is right outside the door. He’s leaning against the frame with his own bag slung over his shoulder, grinning wickedly and looking all too smug

“My turn, princess. Coming through!”

The novel nickname flutters through your system as he squeezes past you, closing the door in your face with another low chuckle. God, he’s an idiot, you think with a smile, opting to perch in the seat he used for dinner until he returns to the room.

You’re playing a mindless game on your phone when you hear the bathroom door squeak closed, and Gojo plops back into the stiff bed. There’s no shirt on his sculpted body, only a baggy pair of black pajama pants whose waistband barely kisses his narrow hips. Humbled is an understatement when you try not to ogle at the sorcerer before you, whose murder you were secretly plotting just hours before. The skin on your face is akin to the Sun’s surface as you summon every ounce of will not to stare, but his Six Eyes promptly detects the sheepish change in your demeanor.

“So, you sharing this thing with me or what?” He looks over at you in the chair as he stretches over the traverse of the mattress, head propped on one hand while the other toys with his blindfold. “Since you don’t seem to care about my cooties anymore.” The repeated movement of those long, deft fingers looping around the fabric is enough to conjure a flashback to him eating those damn steak bites, and you feel hot all over again. It shouldn’t be suggestive, it really shouldn’t, but the way he’s talking makes it seem like he wants you beside him.

You rest your chin in your hand as you reply with a frown, pretending to think, “Hmmm. That’s gonna be a tight fit.” He snorts in response, something devious but expected on the tip of his tongue, and you realize it as soon as you answer. “Don’t even say it, Gojo.”

He feigns surprise, scooting over and patting the pillow beside him. “Pffft. When have I been known to say anything out of pocket?” He can’t deny the thought of fitting tightly somewhere else, his aqua eyes flashing with a desire he’s never allowed himself to feel for a long time. “Listen princess, you’ve only got two choices for tonight, so pick wisely. There’s somewhere tight-“ he pats the pillow again, -“or somewhere wet.” The thumb previously tugging on the fabric around his eyes jabs toward the bathroom door.

There’s that nickname again. “How erotic,” you snicker, wordlessly complying and letting your exhaustion guide the way to the empty side of the bed. It’s not a ton of space, but you’ll do your best to make it work. Carefully, you slide in to avoid touching him, realizing just how difficult that task is going to be in your limited amount of territory. Should you make a pillow border between you two? No, because then that would take up even more precious space. Maybe if you bunched up some of your blanket-

“Alright! Wait till Shoko hears about this!”

Gojo visibly approves of your choice as he watches you timidly sidle in next to him, wearing that stupidly eager grin on his face and whooping like a sports game attendee. Shooting him a playful glare and an “Oh, enough with you, Six Eyes,” you feel the cool sheets hit your skin, and your body erupts in goosebumps through your thin-ish shirt and shorts. You quickly face the opposite way as him, but not before stealing another glance at his ridiculously toned chest and stomach as he reaches to turn the bedside lamp off. God, he smells so good, like minty toothpaste and his cologne. Darkness abruptly envelops you as your heart pounds, and you have a horrible thought: Who said I wouldn’t be wet sleeping here?

You hear Gojo release a barely audible sigh, almost as if he’s tentative to fall asleep beside you too. He’s not sure who to trust less, you or himself, but he hides his apprehension with a couple more quips as you settle into the compact mattress.

“You have any idea how many people would pay to be where you are right now? You are so lucky.”

He could talk in circles with you again for hours if it meant prolonging the inevitable vulnerability that is unconsciousness beside another person- though a deeper part of him reasons there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe there are other things you could do instead of talk, he thinks, doing little to shake the idea away. It’s kind of nice, way more than nice, the image of you all spread out below him-

The eye roll you respond with is felt by him but not seen in the lightless room. Clouded by an atypical hunger and pure fatigue, you murmur back, “Don’t worry, I tip well,” and a smug smile forms on your face. It’s kind of fun getting to poke back at him. That’s all it is, right? Harmless banter. Gojo senses your intentions on a level unbeknownst to you, though- and he’s not entirely upset at them.

“Listen to you! That was smooth. I just might give you a discount for that.” You hear the sheets rustle beside you, and you slowly turn. He’s fully facing you, boyishly propping his head up on his fist with his near-glowing eyes now exposed. You notice that his blindfold has now been placed neatly on the outdated nightstand. He’s keenly tuned in on you, finding your pajamas a little too cute for a pre-mission night of sleep. It’s clearly getting more difficult for him to deny how entertained he is by the sight of you all snuggled in on your diminutive side of the crappy hotel bed.

You pretend to cover your eyes after seeing his finally revealed to you, feeling thoroughly proud of yourself for matching his energy now. “Put those LEDs away, good lord,” you joke, allowing yourself to let out a sleepy laugh as you pull up the covers to give your bumpy skin some salvation. His intentful gaze is already doing plenty to send heat throughout your limbs though, and the act of grabbing the blanket is an effort in vain. As your eyelids flutter with the weight of tiredness, you understand just how close you two are in the moment. Mentally, you were so much farther away earlier in the evening than you are now- and it takes a second for you to process that you actually like the change.

Gojo laughs softly, and you can hear the late hour begin to seep into his tone. It grows more throaty, lower than before, and it’s entirely too pleasant. Part of you wonders if he’d consider the proposition of reading you a bedtime story. There’s a lingering tension in the air, nearly tangible, and it shifts when you note how his eyes flicker all over your face. Eyes, lips, back to eyes, back to lips.

“Maybe I wanna look at you a little longer. Are you gonna report me to the higher-ups for that, too?” Gojo bats his icy white lashes, his oaky scent further settling into the sheets. The only light in the shoddy room comes from his vibrant irises, and they’re spotlighting on you with piqued interest. The light has always come from him, and it’s an epiphany that has you scooting an inch closer.

“If those things blind me, I will.” You exhale through your nose, partially wishing you could reach out to the heat that radiates off his halfway bare body.

He blinks, and you swear the room flashes dark again for that split second. “Well, y’know, that might be a good thing,” he tries to reason lightheartedly, in a volume just above a whisper. “You wouldn’t have to look at this ugly room anymore.” You watch his hand- the same one you nearly salivated over earlier- land in the limited space between you two, almost as if it wants to cross that border. It takes the most willpower you’ve ever needed not to stare at it, feeling your face flush with a sick anticipation. “I’d be saving you.” Maybe it’s what he’s always wanted to do all along, you both think, and it encourages you to be just as coy back.

In this moment, you feel bold enough to say something you thought would never leave your mouth: “But then I wouldn’t get to look at all six foot three of you.” You pout sarcastically, and Gojo gets the urge to kiss it right off your face. His grin is proud; it’s everything he never knew he wanted to hear.

Your teasing is like a silent permission for his hand to move closer to you, and your entire body stills when you feel it land gently on your lower thigh to play with the frilled hem of your shorts. Must be a pattern of his, you realize. He chuckles, and the sound is so low that you can practically feel it.

“Hmm… You’re right. Again.” Your work partner’s head tilts down slightly at you, and his expression is overcome with what can only be described as relief. “Guess I need to save you some other way.” He notices the goosebumps adorning your figure, and suddenly you’re pressed up against his broad chest. God, he’s so warm, you don’t even realize the way you’re curling right up into him. Somehow, despite your height difference, you fit perfectly along his lanky frame.

“Better?”

You are tired, fatigued beyond belief, but you’d be stupid not to stay awake to experience Satoru Gojo letting his guard down for you. Perhaps this dismal hotel room was a test of will for you two, and while you’re not entirely sure what denotes passing or failing, you do know one thing: Satoru Gojo is unbelievably comfortable to cuddle with.

Still…you wonder what would unfold if you pushed further.

“Hmmm… still not warm enough.” The words leave you before you can tame them, and the unspoken invitation behind them makes his eyebrows raise. The hand playing with the fabric of your shorts squeezes into your skin just the slightest, prompting you to look up at him where you see no reserves on his handsome (God, it’s good to admit that) face. His soft pink lips hover inches from your own, drawing closer like magnets.

“Really.” You feel a thumb rub slow circles along your outer thigh. “I can fix that for you, yeah?�� His words shoot straight to your core as his head ducks a little lower, just breaths away from yours.

Well, you’re definitely not tired anymore.

“If you’re still offering that discount…” you breathe out. A rush of smugness allows you to bring your hands to his toned chest, traveling up to trace his defined collarbone. His skin is soft, almost velvety, most likely from years of keeping his perimeter so trained to avoid any unnecessary contact, and the act of smoothing your fingers over it becomes soothing.

Gojo’s lopsided grin conveys the desire he’s suppressed for so long, seemingly caught up in this new dynamic with you. “Nah, we’ll put it on the credit card,” he finally laughs before confidently pressing his lips to yours.

He is an entirely new taste, and you’re not able to reference his movements to anything or anyone; it’s another level of tact and precision. Did he plan this? His kisses are the perfect mix of messy and firm, and it’s clear he’s doing all but holding back. Something unlocks as he goes through the motions, maybe the realization of the snapped tension or maybe the feeling of you kissing back just as passionately, and his mouth soon scatters everywhere from your lips to your jaw to your neck in a flurry of teeth and tongue. He’s somehow magically in tune with your most sensitive areas of the exposed skin as his lips wander, leaving you to grab his firm bicep and cling as if he’s grounding you to the earth. The details of the dingy hotel room are completely abandoned as you feel your senses envelop, finally, with all that is Satoru Gojo, and there was truly no beauty greater than that.

Chest heaving, you almost let out a laugh at how rapidly the night has shifted. His well-trained hands travel, one squeezing the tissue of your breast over your thin shirt while the other dances just below the leg of your shorts. With all walls down, it’s pointless to hide the effect his touch has on you. If his hand moved any higher, he’d discover how wet you were- part of you dreaded how inflated his ego would become after that, but the other, hungrier part of you needed him to do it.

“Anyone ever told you-“ Gojo breathes out between his attack, brushing a thumb over your hardened nipple, “how pretty you are?” He is all too focused on drinking in your features, finding your weakest and favorite points. Your back arches ridiculously easily into his touch as you struggle to find the words to answer him.

“N-no one else that’s mattered.”

You’re sure his ego will balloon rapidly upon that little admission, but you partly didn’t care- not when he was capable of making you feel so unbelievably good.

He’s rightfully amused at how blatant your desire is now. “Oh? So I do matter to you then.” His other hand roams up your thigh, threatening to reach where you wanted it most. You snicker before a shudder erupts from you when a long, hot stripe is licked down your neck and over your shoulder, and it’s all you need to swing your leg over his, straddling him on the stiff, narrow mattress. The flex of his abs as he sits up to accommodate you is nothing short of poetic, and you find more prose in the clouded, desperate fog of his azure eyes when he watches you with curiosity. He immediately rests his grip on your waist, pressing you down gently onto what can only be described as a monster underneath his sweats. You understand now why he carries himself the way that he does: He’s fucking huge.

You push your chest against his, unable to stop the twitch of your hips when you feel Gojo’s hardness brush against your heat. The wetness of your arousal is sure to be felt through the fabric, and he’d be silly to halt your admittedly cute display of attempts in chasing just an ounce of pleasure. Your flushed face, furrowed eyebrows, small noises, it’s motion picture to him. However, he selfishly wants to be that pleasure for you, and he’s quick to slide a hand down your body to cup your pussy through your pajamas.

Your jaw goes slack as Gojo’s hand makes contact with your most sensitive area over your shorts, and the circles he rubs help him collect some of the condensation from the fabric. It feels good, but not good enough, and you can’t help but huff at the restricted movement. He is all too cocky when his hand pulls away, eyeing it with an intense mirth.

“Damn, waterworks, you always get this wet?” He’s half-amazed and half-amused as he studies his glistening fingers, his other hand gripping at your ass. “That’s so hot.”

“Shut up, Satoru.” You smack his bare shoulder before burying your face into it, feeling your cheeks turn crimson. He chuckles, finding you adorable when you’re embarrassed yet hating that you feel that way. He knows just how to help you get over that, and he starts by slowly sliding his body down, holding your thighs spread as he maneuvers his head onto the flat-ish pillow. You glare down confusedly at him in his newfound position, only to meet with eager cerulean eyes that are practically begging to pull you closer.

“Fine then, I’ve got other stuff I wanna do with my mouth anyway,” you hear him murmur from between your thighs, and his hand brushes over your clothed, throbbing cunt again. “Now sit, princess.”

“Huh? No, you won’t be able to breathe, I can’t.” Your head shakes vigorously in disapproval. Not that you didn’t want them there, but there was no way… you’d probably end up suffocating the guy, and while you had a more murderous urge to do that earlier this evening you’d much rather-

“Fine with me, now lemme taste you,” Gojo insists with almost a whine in his tone, not letting you respond before pulling the soaked crotch of your shorts to the side and licking a long, forceful line from your hole to your clit. You moan when he does it again, and again, feeling your knees weaken to finally sink yourself onto his mouth. The groan that vibrates against your nerve endings makes you look down, only to see his frosty white lashes flutter as you fill his senses. This was well worth the hours of wearing down your resolve this evening.

His movements become frantic, desperate to experience you now that he’s let his guard down this long with no dire consequences. You feel his tongue lap at your sensitive clit, and his lips kiss in your heat so loudly and wetly that it sounds like a porn scene. Your hands fly to his ivory hair, gripping till his scalp stings. This makes him groan again, and you can barely control the way your hips start to rock along his mouth.

Gojo breaks away for a split second, tongue dragging along your inner thigh with his cock nearly in pain because of he’s got you where he wants you. “Just like that, baby, ride my face,” he huffs quickly before returning to flattening his tongue along your clit. You feel him squeeze the cheeks of your ass, forcing you onto the hot muscle and encouraging you to continue.

He seems to be breathing just fine, you realize- which of course he is, he’s Satoru fucking Gojo- he could handle just about anything. It gives you the confidence to rut your hips forward, moaning louder when his lips wrap around your overstimulated nerve and suck hard. You earn a playful smack on your ass when his name slips out of your mouth, and the stinging sends you further into your frenzy for pleasure as you start to build up a pace. It’s addicting, really, the way he’s lapping and sucking at your aching cunt like it’s his favorite dessert, and you’re suddenly thankful that he has the appetite that he does. He breaks away for a second to spit into your heat, spreading your slick folds wide with those deft fingers of his, and that only has you rocking harder along his mouth when he reattaches himself. To him, you are so much better than any sweet he’s had.

You don’t even realize you’re doing it, but you’re tugging Gojo’s snowy tresses in shallow efforts to further bury his face in your cunt as you ride it, and he’s all too happy that you’re using him in this way. As his tongue prods up into your tight entrance, he feels his cock throb again at the prospect of how it would feel inside of you. He groans at the thought, and you feel it all the way up in your ribcage. He’s already picked up on the fact that you’re close, judging by how your frantic movements have sped up and the way you’re babbling incoherent praises that only make him ache more.

“Fuck, Satoru, feels so- good- please…”

When Gojo lets out a little laugh at that, you feel your slick dribble messily down your thighs. That hot, blinding pressure grows stronger under your navel when you grind harder on his tongue, threatening to spill over when he starts to flick it along your clit to match your pace. It all feels so deliciously good that you pay no mind to his nails digging into your flesh, his own way of ensuring he’s leaving a mark- as if he hasn’t decorated your neck in shades of blotchy fuchsia already.

“I’m-so-close….”

He gives your ass another smack with your breathy cry, looking up at you with eyes that nearly beam. You look down while your hips continue to drag along his tongue, finding him just so damn pretty while he’s eating you so good, and you ease your fingers in his hair. That impending sensation grows stronger, and he quickly parts from your lips to murmur confidently:

“I know, princess, I got you. Lemme have it.”

His choice of words and the way he immediately goes back to lapping at your heat are both more than enough to have you coming apart around his tongue in mere seconds. There is nothing in your mind’s eye but Gojo as your high overtakes you, fizzling through your being and prompting you to cry out his name as if it’s a chant. He soaks it all in, helping you ride out your release before slowing to kiss his way back up your body. You’ve never come that hard- and somehow, he senses this too. Your legs feel like jelly when he’s finally face-to-face with you, and his is glistening with your arousal. If he wasn’t desperate to be inside of you right now he could do that for hours, he thinks.

You lean in, capturing your lips with Gojo’s and wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him deeply. Your own taste on your lips does little to dissuade you from him, and for the next few moments, you both feverishly rip off whatever clothing is still unfortunately on your bodies. He, as gracefully as he can given the annoyingly small hotel bed, maneuvers you onto the pillow so you’re lying on your back, and you feel his heavy cock hit your stomach. He pauses for a second to study your features, finding that every inch of you is worth burning to memory. You’re stunning like this, all sticky and flushed and needy, and it’s all because of his efforts. He’s only more gratified when your mouth flies open at his impressive size.

“You're kidding. That's not gonna fit,” You sputter, still in your post-orgasm daze, but you feel your hole clench around nothing when you notice the filmy drops of pre beading around his thick tip.

His laugh is genuine, almost melodic as he pumps himself a few times. “Such a downer. We’ll make it fit, ‘kay?” Gojo promises with a goofy grin, letting his hand wander along your bare nipples and stomach before eventually revisiting your now sore cunt. You hiss in delight when he slides one of his long fingers in, and your legs spread automatically at the intrusion. Even in the most cramped bed ever, you’d realize you’d make room for him anywhere. You reach out, dragging your hand along his chiseled stomach, nearly in awe at how firm the muscles are there. He’s like if art was living, breathing, unrestricted from a canvas or frame.

Your hand slides further, silently encouraging his own to move so you can take over stroking his hardened cock as his finger curls along your hot walls. You moan quietly, watching his breath hitch in his broad chest- he’s not sure whether to watch your face or your movements, and there’s an eagerness within him that amplifies when he sees how tightly you’re sucking in just a digit of his. His hips jut forward slightly when your thumb brushes his sensitive tip, and he finally decides to look into your eyes. You stare back, wanting to say so much about how his are the perfect shade of blue.

“Y’know why I harass you so much?” He asks in a tone that reaches a new level of softness for him, and you entertain his question as he slowly introduces a second finger. The stretch is delicious, though you think it’s doing little to prep for the monstrosity that awaits you.

“‘Cause you’re Satoru Gojo?” You reply before letting out a hiss at a particularly sensitive spot he hits within you.

He snorts. “Well, yeah, and ‘cause I think you’re pretty. Inside and out. Gorgeous, actually.”

You blush a little at how he turns a silly banter into a very real confession, and you watch his eyelids flutter again. Actually, you feel kind of bad for being so lighthearted while he was being serious- that was his thing, anyway. Times like these were what made his bluntness endearing, and he continues, beginning to align his length with your dripping entrance after slowly removing his fingers.

“So, lemme prove it.”

Feeling all kinds of giddy you nod, angling your thighs so his hips can fit between them. His spongy tip drags through your slick folds, and it’s the most you’ve ever felt another person focus so directly on you. You look up at him, bringing your hands up his stomach and to his defined shoulders as his tip sinks into you just the slightest.

“Well, you’re pretty too, like otherworldly handsome,” you admit back with a timid smile, clearly trying to regain your breath. “Just couldn’t tell you ‘cause you were too busy harassing me.” You exhale when he submerges himself a little more, and he smiles back with his pearly white teeth. “You’re fucking huge, too… oh my god…” you add, moaning a little at how his cock feels nothing like his fingers. You hate to admit it, but it’s clear he’s set to wreck you.

“Naturally.” He’s using every ounce of strength to control himself from pounding into you, responding to your praise and your criticism all at once. Gojo slowly and gently pushes in until his hips are flush with yours, and it feels as if he’s tearing you from the inside. Your face is scrunched at the intrusion, and he has to cover his own mouth to stop a moan at how tight you feel. There’s no other convincing needed by him that your pussy was practically made for him, he thinks, and he studies your features for any indication of stopping.

“Look at you,” he coos, nearly mesmerized by how your cunt has already swallowed him whole. His hand slides down his face to tweak at one of your hardened nipples. “And you said I wouldn’t fit. Takin’ it like a pro, princess.” His lighthearted motivation makes you snicker a little, and it eases some of the stinging from the stretch he’s causing. He gives you a few shallow thrusts, and his eyes practically roll to the back of his head when your hot walls grip around him. It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, and when finally you do, you give him the silent go-ahead by softening your expression. His grin could blind a room full of people when he thrusts deeper, not only reaching that same sensitive spot but finding another, and it makes your head loll back to the pillow.

That reminds him. He pauses for a second to slide one of the cheap hotel pillows under your tailbone, and suddenly his cock feels like it’s colliding with your guts when he continues his movements. Your mouth couldn’t fall any more open as he starts to establish a pace, filling you so masterfully yet harshly with every stroke.

“Sa-to-ru…” you pant, digging your nails into Gojo’s sculpted back, and this only motivates him more. You have a realization that could either be horrible or amazing: How could you ever fuck anyone else again? Again and again he’s thrusting into that magical spot till the sounds of your wetness fill the otherwise lackluster room, spoiling you for any other and reassuring you that yes, he really is the strongest. Part of him knows how skilled he is, and he has to refrain from laughing- no one would ever be enough once he was done with you. Then again, he never wants to be done with you.

You feel his tactful hands roam your body aimlessly, a visible sign of his enrapture with how you receive him. He wants to focus on watching his cock slam into your cunt over and over, but he also wants to watch your face as you writhe and cry out his name- he’s clearly conflicted.

The little breathy noises slipping out of him aren’t helping your cause, and the way he abruptly throws one of your legs over his broad shoulder doesn’t either. He’s now rutting into your tight heat relentlessly, a stark contrast from how delicately he’s kissing up the thigh that’s pressed into his chest.

“Your pussy is...perfect,” you hear Gojo groan, drawing the words out, and his kisses along your thigh become animalistic as they turn into bites. You whimper, back arching with all the sensations filling your system, and that heady feeling in your tummy begins to strengthen again. “Wanna-fuck you- forever…”

“Please,” you agree as your ability to form sentences leaves you. “Don’t ever- stop…”

In a perfect world, he wouldn’t. As one hand holds your thigh to his chest and the other travels to your overstimulated clit, his shiny blue eyes watch your contorting face, smiling proudly when you moan at how his fingers rub tight circles along your nerves. He can feel his release approaching alongside yours, and your slick walls flutter around his cock as he pummels into you.

“Want another one, princess,” Gojo pants, making your skin smack against his as your orgasm builds up in your tummy. “Go on, come on- my cock…”

His wish is your command. You quickly lean forward, mashing your lips with his when the pleasure fizzles out of you all over again. You feel the tips of your toes burn at how powerfully your release hits you, wracking your body with an almost overwhelming amount of pleasure. You’re reduced to a heaving, shaking mess, convulsing around his length and left only able to babble his name against his mouth in your state of bliss. His hand cradles the back of your head as he fucks you through the aftershock and kisses you roughly, only to follow close behind just moments later. His movements falter before your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as you feel yourself start to fill with his thick seed.

Holy shit. Who would’ve guessed that this was how your evening would turn out? Just mere hours ago you wanted to claw at his throat, and instead you clawed at his back because of how good he was dicking you down. Your mind swims as Gojo slowly withdraws, slipping out of your sore cunt to collapse beside you in what little space the hotel bed offered. He’s even gorgeous like this, maybe more than ever actually. You’re observing how his ivory hair sticks to his forehead and his back glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat from his efforts, the muscles there decorated with thin red indents from your nails. It’s a sight worth recreating an infinite number of times.

Not having him envelop all your senses anymore forces you back into reality, where a mission lies just hours ahead of you and your shared hotel room isn’t any prettier. And unbelievably, those things don’t even matter anymore. All you can perceive and recognize in your afterglow is Satoru Gojo, who is already regaining his breath while you lie there like a fucked-out mess. Beautiful.

Gojo turns to face you, watching your chest rise and fall as you regulate yourself, and his delighted grin is all too perfect for someone who just obliterated you.

“So…you warm enough now?”

Your sticky body shifts to face him, vibrating with laughter as you answer “For now, yes…” and your head hits the pillow exhaustedly. That’s right- you were already tired before this “development” even happened.

His whole being is pure elation as he languidly drapes an arm over your bare figure. “Does that mean we get to do that again? I think she really likes me.” His hand brushes over your abused cunt, and your body flares at his touch yet again. It was a sick epiphany that he could destroy you and you’d still want more.

You snicker. “Yes, but she is super sore right now.” The sleepiness from earlier seeps into your brain, and you find yourself curling back into his lanky frame. He accepts you openly, resting a hand on your ass as he scoops you closer.

“I can kiss her better,” he pipes up quietly, already thinking of all the ways he could keep touching you. Even though you feel that droning buzz of want again, you tiredly shake your head, regretfully reminding him “Noooo, we’ve gotta get up in a few hours. Maybe after our mission.” You swear his eyes desaturate a shade before he sighs.

“Yeah yeah yeah. You’re gonna be tired and sore anyway.”

“Oh, and you’re not?”

“Nah.” Gojo moves to press a fresh batch of kisses all over your neck, and you shudder. He did have a point- you were already planning on shotgunning whatever energy drinks were in the dingy hotel lobby’s vending machine in the morning, as if they even had one. “I could go all night if you wanted, princess. Give you more of my cooties.”

You laugh freely, realizing he probably wasn’t exaggerating. It’s quite the offer from the one who just wrecked you so good- and you’d be silly to refuse despite your tiredness. You feeling your limbs tangle into each other’s, returning thoughts of the hazardous hotel drifting away once more, and your arousal slowly revisits you. What an incredible way to forget about your surroundings. You tug playfully on his icy tresses, you decide that this might be your new favorite kind of exhaustion. “As long as you don’t share your cooties with anyone else.”

Snickering, Gojo keenly zeroes on spreading your aching legs so he can see the aftermath from earlier, and he’s hardening again at the sight of his thick cum barely trickling out onto your thighs. With a mischievous smile, he assures you, “Never. This is just too pretty. Plus, you said you were gonna tip well.”

His hands trace you, and there’s not a more discernible indicator of your new bond with him than when you look down at his length, answering him in a familiarly cheeky tone, “Well, you already did.” He laughs, the warmest he's ever allowed himself, and it's certain he's keeping his promise.

Turns out, Shoko was right about him.

[mygnolia]

take care of him, sunghoon's sick!

or alt. the pt 2 no one asked for... LOL

pairing: sunghoon x gn!reader headcannons! | wc: 800 | cw: food, sunghoon as a SIMPPP lots of kisses and cuddling

—

sunghoon does his best not to get sick whatsoever 

he’s an athlete and a student, if he gets sick he falls behind on a LOT 

but when he saw you in his puffer jacket and a smile at his competition, ofc he had to kiss you 

you were his one and only and he loves you to death 

simphoon! 

smiling ear to ear on the drive home as you tell him how cool he always looks on the ice

he gets SHY 

wdym his baby is complimenting him profusely 

you two  make food together, and although you’re still congested, you promise sunghoon you feel much better. 

makes soup and noodles 

yes he hugs you from behind yes he rests his chin on the top of your head 

the man is 5’11 (and i’m 5’4 mmmm how perfect)

one kiss leads to another kiss and suddenly you’re giggling from the ticklish feeling and how he’s annunciating every “mwah!” 

kisses all over your face 

he snuggles with you on the couch when you eat, and actually cuddles you this time 

“Someone’s clingy,” you joke, and he buries his head in your neck. “But it’s okay. I like it.” 

hoon is all blush blush

“It’s been a long time, I missed you,” HE’S SO POUTY AND BABIE 

You two definitely fall asleep with a light on, his legs tangled with yours, his hand around your waist holding you close. 

Uh oh!

Sore throat. 

“I think you got me sick.” You apologize like crazy, rushing to make him some egg drop soup and tea

“Shhh, Hoon, go back to bed, let me take care of you” 

oh the man is WHIPPED head over HEELS he’s like omg what did I do in my past life to get someone as caring as ____ 

He’s also whiny, and kind of quiet

he is a thinker and a listener so when he’s sick, he’s even less inclined to talk or be his usual rambunctious self 

It makes you feel bad for putting your boyfriend in such a miserable position 

But he promised you it’s not your fault (even though it is) and that it’s not as bad as you think it is 

no more feeling bad! You have to make sure sunghoon recovers as quick as he can 

You separate medicine into little containers and makes sure he always leaves with warm tea, cough drops, gloves, and any medication if he needs 

You drive him whenever, 1. because he is ur passenger princess! and 2. because you don’t want him to be stuck in traffic when tired

Always Always getting him layers 

and now it’s your turn to refuse his kisses and hugs. 

“____ I want to cuddle.” 

You shake your head, a smile threatening to break your stoicism. “You’re sick, baby. You don’t want to get me sick again, do you?” 

“But I miss you :(“ oh he definitely is following you around the house like a puppy trying to get you to give him forehead kisses and that sweet sweet tlc. 

He sends you voicemails when you’re busy telling you “hi baby i’m at home still are you still coming over today?” violent coughing “i mizz u and i wuv u”

AGH so whipped for this boy im…

you come over with more soup and cuddles and love 

he falls asleep halfway through his movie and you have to check his forehead to make sure he’s not having a fever 

dishes are CLEANED everything is put away and then you go sleep on the couch

now lets say the couch is huge and there is space for two 

WELL sunghoon wakes up in the middle of the night and sees you’re not in bed :(( so he goes out to the living space with his blanket and then just falls asleep on you 

and you wake up like wtf i cannot breathe??? 

but oh it’s just hoonie bb its okay 

HES SOOOOO CUTEEE 

messy hair covering his forehead and eyes as he sleeps on your shoulder, hot breath fanning your neck 

you just stay there until the afternoon because you could not try to untangle yourself even if you tried 

but he’s better! at least he says so 

he feels a lot more energetic, is attending practice for longer periods of time and more frequently, and you see the sparkle in his eyes again 

YAYYYY BB HOON IS RECOVEREDDDDDD 

you still dote on him until he’s completely better because you truly want to make sure he’s not overworking himself

agh he WILL marry you he will put a ring on your finger and boom you two have a white picket fence and two dogs and a cat. 

—

hello it’s me ren again 🤓 mmmwah i love hoon

[hogwartsfirebolt]

the game’s the game

“What was going through your mind when you spotted the Snitch?”

Two camera shutters go off like lighting, but Draco doesn’t blink. It’s almost the end of the season, and he’s done a press conference every week. He’s used to them.

“Fucking finally,” he answers, and the journalists all laugh. They think he’s joking, and he can already imagine the articles they’ll publish tomorrow pronouncing him cheeky and funny, but he means it wholeheartedly. Six hours in the sky, drenched all the way through his pants in rainwater, and facing the very best player in the league? He had half a mind to jump off his broom if only to have the game end somehow.

“This is the second time you face PU and well, Harry Potter, this season,” says another reporter, a young, pretty woman with her hair pinned up and a reverent tone when she speaks Potter’s name. Like everyone. “Are you expecting to encounter him at this year’s Cup? And if so, how does that make you feel?”

Draco breathes out hard through his nose. Across the room from him, sitting at his own table against the wall opposite, Potter’s doing his own press conference. He’s wearing a hat backwards, the light blue of his team hoodie contrasting with his golden-warm skin tone. He has a hand to his chin, rubbing his short beard in thought at some question he’s being asked. Probably about just how sweet it had been to snatch that Snitch right from under Draco’s nose. He’s earnest and so gorgeous Draco can’t stand the sight of him.

“The game is the game,” Harry’s voice carries, clear and chesty, deeply masculine as he says his favorite little quote that means absolutely nothing and that fans have been yelling and tattooing on their bodies the whole season. “We don’t take any victory for granted. Coach has been running us to the ground, she won’t stop until we have that trophy in Puddlemere, and we’re doing our best to make her proud.”

“Oh, I’m certain we’ll face them at the Cup,” is what Draco answers at last. “Honestly? I think no other team comes even close. We’ll face them, and then we’ll bring the Cup home to Appleby. As Potter himself likes to say, the game is the game.”

All the cameras around him go off, the sound of Quick-Quills scrabbling and the reporters’ scandalized gasps at his use of Potter’s quote. He grins, puts his olive green Arrows cap on and stands to leave. He needs a fucking shower.

Later on, he’s sprawled on his hotel room couch, drying his hair with a towel and watching a replay of the game on the enormous television, making mental notes about his own flying, his mistakes, the times he dove too soon or hovered too low. When the screen follows the blue jersey with POTTER 7 emblazoned across the back, he looks closely, trying to spot mistakes but knowing he won’t find any. Potter’s probably the best flier of the century, and Draco loves Quidditch too much to lie to himself about that.

He’s admiring one of Potter’s physics-defying feints when there’s a knock on his door. Immediately, his heart takes up a gallop, and he has to press a hand to the center of his chest with a frown.

“Calm the fuck down, Malfoy,” he mutters. It’s a disproportionate reaction and he’s irritated with himself for it. It’s not as though it’s the first time. Or the tenth.

He pauses the game with a flick of his wand and makes his way to the door, through the archway that separates the TV room from the kitchenette. A quick look at the archway across the suite to make sure the bedroom is as he left it, and he’s at the door, taking a deep breath.

Potter’s grin is huge when Draco opens. He’s foregone all his team outwear, and is now in a familiar, worn leather jacket and a black sweater. His hair is wet, as though he rushed after his shower so he could get here quicker. Draco opens his mouth to say something, but before he figures out what, Harry pushes inside, turns around and presses him against the door, big hands gentle on Draco’s waist. Draco’s heart hasn’t gotten the “this isn’t the first or tenth time this happens,” memo, and is still running a marathon inside his chest, so he says nothing.

There’s a plastic bag in Potter’s hands. Dinner, probably, he usually brings dinner when they meet after a game. His wide smile reveals white teeth, a crooked canine that Draco knows is a baby tooth that never loosened. Round, stylish glasses cover the most intoxicating green eyes Draco has ever seen, and they’re shining with tonight’s victory. And Draco might be — definitely is — the world’s sorest loser, but he’s also the world’s biggest slut for Quidditch excellence, and he has it right here, holding him against his hotel room door.

“The game is the game?” Harry asks, amused, already leaning in, the hand on Draco’s waist moving to wrap the whole way around him and pull him close.

“Just some stupid phrase I’ve heard from a dickhead,” Draco answers, but the words hold the shape of a smile and are uttered right into a kiss there at the end.

It’s always a race at the start. They're both high from the game, still in that mindset, and it’s a competition to see who can undress quicker, who can make the other harder, who can earn the first moan and coax the first orgasm of the night. But after that first one, after Draco’s jaw aches dully and Potter is softening between his legs, everything slows down a little. Potter helps him up and they share the tacos Potter brought, watching the last minutes of the game they played earlier with Draco’s legs up on Potter’s lap, where he’s massaging his knees, his quads, making sure he’s not achy from kneeling for him.

“I really fucked that one up,” Potter comments. His tiny self on the screen just pulled out of an impossible dive at what looks like a 90 degree angle. He sounds earnest, which is the only reason Draco isn’t kicking him right in his beautiful face.

“I hate you so much. Only you would call that a fuck up.”

Potter hums, his massaging hands moving from Draco’s calf to his heel, his thumb pressing into his sole. On the screen, tiny Draco swerves a Bludger aimed to his head, and his teammate Owen is flying to him to make sure he’s alright.

“That guy is so into you,” Potter points out.

“I know. We fucked all through rookie year.”

Potter turns to look at him so fast it must hurt his neck. Draco raises an eyebrow, confused at the strong reaction.

“What?”

“I — I don’t know,” Potter says, suddenly sheepish. His hands haven’t stopped moving over Draco’s foot. Potter’s skin is dark, but Draco can still make out the blush spreading across his cheekbones. “Isn’t it weird? He’s a teammate.”

There’s something he’s not saying. It’s evident in the way he bites his bottom lip, in the way he obviously wants to look away but is too ridiculously brave to actually do it. Draco’s heart thumps inside his chest, so hard he’s sure it must be audible to Harry too.

They’ve never named this thing between them. The first time they did it, after the quarter finals one year before, with Potter’s ill advised kiss that ended with them fucking in the showers of the stadium after Potter had wiped the damn dust with Draco on the pitch, they agreed to keep it quiet, and that was the last they discussed of it. It’s going on fourteen months since then, and they’ve done it at least once a month, when the league brings them to nearby towns, and sometimes when it doesn’t and they take a quick midnight Portkey to each other to blow off some steam.

Draco had never in his life been as well-fucked as he’s been this past year, and he definitely doesn’t want to lose it. Potter’s always been honest and open with him, vocal in bed about how much he wants him, filthy in his occasional text messages when they’re apart, but he’s never given any indication that he wants anything other than exactly what they have.

“It’s not weird,” Draco says slowly, unsure of what to think of this exchange. “We stopped a while ago. I was clear that I didn’t want — that I’d rather we stayed friends and teammates, without any complications.”

“Right,” Potter says. He sounds relieved, and Draco feels like he’s three steps behind the conversation they’re having. He’s about to ask, but Potter’s fingers on his calf smooth over an old knot and he groans instead, letting his head fall back onto the couch cushion.

“That feels great,” he says, and Potter repeats the motion.

“Yeah. I think you pulled it when you made that X turn.”

The turn he made to try to beat him to the Snitch, he doesn’t say. How he had enough awareness to know Draco attempted it while diving for the Snitch himself is beyond comprehension, but Draco has long accepted that Potter is simply insane about the game. He notices everything, considers everything, takes every risk. If he weren’t a player himself, Draco knows he would be following Puddlemere and Harry wherever they played for the entire season, wearing a pale blue jersey with the number 7 on it.

“Probably,” Draco says, closing his eyes and groaning again when Harry keeps pressing the same point. After a moment, he feels something softer brushing his calf, and opens his eyes to find Harry bent over his leg, kissing a path up towards his knee. He can’t help the embarrassing little sound he makes, and Harry’s laugh is a puff against his skin as he keeps moving up, breath warm on the wet trail of his kisses up Draco’s thigh. In the background, the presenters are going crazy over a feint Harry pulled, the sound of the audience carrying all through the stadium and out of the TV speakers.

Harry has made his way high up and is kissing Draco’s birthmark, a brown, apple-sized beauty mark an inch below his groin when he lifts his head to ask, “Why didn’t you want to?”

Draco can’t believe he’s using his mouth to speak at that moment. He licks his lips, trying to make sense of the question.

“What? What are you even — ?” He tries to sit up a little, but Harry moves over him instead so they’re eye-level without Draco having to move at all.

“With Caddell. Why didn’t you want to keep seeing him?”

“Owen? Why the fuck are we talking about —,” Draco lets his head drop down onto the cushions again, a sigh punched out of him. Harry takes pity and leans forward to kiss him, lips soft over Draco’s, knowing exactly how to coax his kisses out of him the way he likes best.

“I just want to know,” Harry whispers against his lips. He’s breathless just from touching Draco, from rubbing his legs, from kissing him. Fuck, this is insane.

“I like him, but it wasn’t very exciting.” Draco says. He closes his eyes as Harry begins to kiss down his neck, and tries to really think about it, because he’s not even sure himself. “I wasn’t willing to risk our teamwork when what we had wasn’t even that … electric. I don’t know. This sounds insane.”

Harry shakes his head, his beard rubbing against Draco’s collarbone. “It doesn’t. I get it.” He bites on the delicate skin connecting neck and shoulder, licks a path down his chest. “I get electric.”

“Fuck yes you do,” Draco says, nonsensical, but he feels he can’t be blamed when Harry is brushing his lips over his nipples, broad hands moving around Draco’s body to secure a grip over his ass.

“Is this?” Harry asks, mouth nearing the V of Draco’s hips, the edge of the trail of hair leading to his crotch. “Electric?”

Draco swears, fingers running through Harry’s hair and finding a grip, hard. “If you don’t put your mouth on me right now I swear I — yes.”

He spreads his thighs to accommodate Harry between them, one hand gripping Harry’s hair and the other curled around the cushion over his head. It is electric, the way Harry knows exactly which buttons to push, sliding a finger inside him while keeping him on his tongue. He’s a prodigy in this too, the star player who knows every move in the playbook that is Draco’s body.

It feels like no time at all, no effort at all before Harry is pulling back, dragging Draco closer by the waist and working himself inside. The feel of it, the sound of them together, the look into Harry’s open gaze, his sweat dripping onto Draco’s chest and his hands underneath Draco’s back, holding him, pulling him onto him, have Draco nearing release almost too fast for his liking, but the night is young and it’s been so long that he lets himself go, a cord snapping in his core, eyes open as he watches Harry watch him come apart.

“Come on,” he says once he’s come down, lifting his hips, shifting his weight onto his shoulders. “Show me what you got, Potter.”

Harry groans and leans forward, kisses Draco’s jaw and his neck, and drives his hips faster. Draco wraps his arms around Harry’s back, moves with him as much as he can in the tight embrace, and remains close as Harry meets his own peak and tumbles down the edge.

They lie together for a couple minutes afterwards, panting into each other’s skins, basking in the afterglow.

“Some pro-athletes. We have the stamina of two eighteen year old virgins,” Draco mutters into Harry’s hair after a while, and feels Harry’s chest rumble with his laughter. The room is cast in the warm glow of the foot-lamp that stands beside the sofa they just fucked in, exactly like two eighteen year old virgins having the chance to touch for the first time in their lives.

Harry always goes boneless and slow after a good lay, so Draco eases him off his body with tenderness, a gentle hand to Harry’s chest, followed by a kiss.

“Let's go to bed, yeah?” He whispers.

Harry groans. “I don’t want to move.”

“That’s too bad, because I’m exhausted and I’m going to bed. Some idiot drove me to the ground on the pitch today.”

He stands up and shakes out his legs, testing the soreness of his muscles. There’ll be an ache tomorrow, but nothing he can’t handle.

Despite his complaint, Harry is already standing up too, coming up behind Draco, a hand finding its way to the flat of his belly, his forehead on Draco’s shoulder as though he can’t bear not to touch him for even a second.

“Bed it is,” he declares against the skin of Draco’s shoulder, sounding halfway asleep already. Draco huffs a laugh and pulls him towards the bedroom, pausing at the kitchenette to grab two glasses of water that he watches Harry drink in three gulps, a couple drops sliding down the sides of his mouth, into his beard and down his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“What?” He asks when he catches Draco watching him, and Draco shakes his head and pulls him to bed. He’s so handsome it’s genuinely upsetting sometimes. Draco thinks he’d throw a tantrum about it daily if it weren’t for the fact that he gets to touch him.

They try their best, but they don’t manage a second round before their eyes fall shut, tucked into each other like two hands cupped under a stream of water, tumbling into a satisfied, exhausted sleep.

Harry wakes him with a kiss before daybreak, the last of the night chilling the room and puckering Draco’s skin.

“Do you have to go already?” Draco asks, one eye still closed and a hand curled possessively around Harry’s bicep, not entirely on purpose.

Harry shakes his head, kisses him again with a gentleness that is meant to go nowhere but extend this kiss, warm and sweet.

“I thought we could talk.”

Draco is nodding before fully grasping the meaning, but even once he does he’s not tempted to back away. Must be the night, still cocooning them, must be Harry’s arms around him that are making him brave, but he’s not nervous anymore, not now that he’s remembered what they’re like, together.

“It is electric,” he says, suspecting that’s what Harry wants to talk about. “It’s always electric with you.”

The smile blooms slowly, lighting up Harry’s face from within, his beautiful eyes, unhidden this early in the morning, his glasses still on the bedside table. Harry sits up a little, clears his throat. It seems like he’s been gearing up for this, he’s squaring his shoulders the way he does before trying a dangerous feint, before performing a play that will have Draco biting dust. This insane, wonder of an athlete. Draco forces himself to shake the last of the sleep away, to focus on him, on what he wants to say.

“I know that … so many of us want you,” Harry starts. “On your team, on mine, the whole league, actually. But I —”

He looks like he’s stating an absolute truth, like he has irrefutable proof, and Draco is taken aback. He knows some of the guys find him attractive, but that’s not the same as being wanted. He shakes his head. “What? Where did you get that?”

“I’ve talked about it with the guys, but that’s not the point,” he adds hurriedly when he sees his eyes widen. Draco hasn’t said a word to anyone, not out of shame, but out of sureness that they were sneaking around, that they were making it a point to hide. Apparently, he was wrong. Harry continues, “What I want to say is … I know we’ve not agreed on anything, that you’re free to want others, be with whoever you want to be with. I thought that you knew where I stood, that if you weren’t saying anything it was because you didn’t want the same thing I did, but it’s been brought to my attention that if I’ve not made an honest offer, I can’t assume you’re saying no.”

Draco’s heart is hammering inside his chest, inside his throat. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, but if he’s right, it seems Harry is saying …

“I don’t want this to be a once a month thing. I want to bring you home, I want you to meet my family, and I want the guys to know that I’m saying no to all the people they set me up with because I’m taken and completely uninterested in anyone else. Are you … is that something you want, too? I know you might have better offers, but I – ”

The covers crinkle under Draco’s knees as he sits up, throws a leg over Harry’s body so he can fully sit on his lap and brings him forward by the neck.

“You beautiful idiot. What could be a better offer? Why would I care about any other offers when I have the best one right here?”

They’re kissing, and Harry’s gasping, and Draco’s frenzied heart pounds against his sternum. He nods into the kiss, feels dizzy with how much he wants what’s being offered. Fuck. There’s nothing he wants more.

Harry pulls back a little, whispers: “Does this mean we’re — ?”

“Yes, fuck. It’s — The game’s the game.”

“What — That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Shut up. It’s your quote.”

Then they’re laughing into a new kiss, and it’s not the first, or even the tenth time they’re together like this, but Draco’s heart still goes crazy for this man, for his unlimited talent, his openness, his electric company. Quarter finals are coming up, then semis, then they might meet again on the pitch and Draco might lose and throw a strop and want to tear the hair out of his head over the beautiful Quidditch Harry plays, and then they’ll get to go home and celebrate a victory. No matter who takes the trophy. That’ll be the game.

Read On Ao3

[alwaysurvalentine]

scary movie marathon - st fic

Written for Day 27 of @steddie-spooktober prompt: scary movies - wc: 1.6k - cw: some cussing

enjoy! 💛

Steve’s idea of a great date night? Scary movie marathon. If you pick the right movies, your date will hide their face in your shoulder and you have an excuse to hold onto them for the duration. If you’re lucky, you might even get them in your lap where you can provide some distraction.

At least, this is how things typically worked when Steve went on dates with the girls of Hawkins High. He should’ve expected that, like most things with Eddie, that wouldn’t be the case with the other boy. When he’d first suggested the movie night, Eddie had assumed it was a group thing and started talking to Robin about what movies she was going to bring. Luckily, Robin can read Steve’s mind, and also his rapid signaling behind Eddie, so she made up an excuse on why she was busy that night. Eddie had shrugged and turned to Steve with a smirk that sent butterflies straight to Steve’s stomach. 

~

The night had come faster than Steve expected and he eyed the movies in his front seat warily when he pulled up to Eddie’s trailer. He knew the other boy would probably like anything they watched, a huge fan of any and all horror no matter how bad. But Eddie also had a habit about seeing Steve more than other people. What if he realized something about him that Steve didn’t mean to reveal? What if he thought the movies he chose were dumb? Or too mainstream to be considered bad enough to loop back to good? This was a terrible idea. Steve’s hand rested on his gear shift, ready to put it in reverse and call Eddie with a fake illness cover story when the boy in question stepped out of the trailer and waved. 

Steve had just gotten used to the black jeans and leather jacket Eddie normally wore, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the cropped Black Sabbath shirt displaying the underneath of Eddie’s chest all the way to his navel. The sunset painted the scars adorning his stomach into a soft pink, like a gentle swoop of a paint brush. Steve’s own matching scars never looked so soft, instead red and angry any time he caught a glance of them in the mirror. Eddie’s grin sharpened as he approached Steve’s car, brown eyes alight with something when he cracked open Steve’s door.

“Cat got your tongue there, Stevie?” 

If blinks were audible, Steve knows his would’ve been deafening. “Whatever Eddie, hope you’re ready to be scared.” He didn’t dare to look at Eddie when he grabbed the movies, scared the older boy would know what he was thinking. 

“Ha! Me, scared? I’m a connoisseur of horror, a weaver of terrible tales, it takes a lot to scare the likes of me!” A cartoonish evil laugh erupted from Eddie as he walked forward, sliding his slippers off at the front door. The trailer felt just as welcoming as it had done all the times before, but now there were orange string lights covering the wall behind the TV and it smelled distinctly of popcorn.

In seemed in the time it had taken Steve to go home and change, Eddie had set up a full array of snacks for them. Popcorn in one bowl, M&Ms in another, even a bag of red vines sat to the side. “I, uh, wasn’t sure what you’d want to drink. We have coke and beer.” Eddie cringes at his words, though Steve can’t imagine why, and he’s already heading to the kitchen.

“I’ll just have what you’re having.” The fridge door opens and Steve sets his movies on the table, eyes catching on the starting menu for The Fly. Eddie comes back with two opened beers, passing Steve’s over by the neck before taking a quick swig of his own. 

“Okay, so we’re starting with one of the best horror movies ever.” 

~

“What the fuck?! Eddie, what the fuck?” Steve can’t look at the screen anymore, the transformation from man to fly sending his stomach into a riot. He’s tucked his face behind his hands and leaned towards Eddie like that’ll save him from the screen. Which is when he notices Eddie’s got an arm around his shoulders and he can feel him laughing against him. How did he not realize Eddie using his own moves against him?

“I know. It’s fucked up isn’t it? And the special effects are so good!” Eddie almost sounds excited, which would be nice if Steve couldn’t hear the sound of Jeff Goldblum’s character losing the last of his humanity. He gags and covers his ears instead, leaning fully into Eddie and turning his head towards the cologne he can smell on Eddie’s neck instead of the screen. 

“It’s disgusting is what it is.” Steve’s breath ghosts over Eddie’s collarbone and he swears he can see the moment Eddie’s heart starts beating faster. Interesting. He’s hopeful so Steve leans closer and feels Eddie’s arm tighten incrementally around him. 

“Steve?” He nods against the metalhead’s neck, newly focused on figuring out just what the older boy smells like under the cigarette smoke that follows him around. “Can I say something crazy?” Eddie’s tense as he talks, arm slipping from Steve’s shoulders so he can reach for the remote. “I mean, maybe it’s not crazy compared to you know, the entire Upside Down and like the last four years of your life. But it’s a big deal to me. Robin said you were fine with her, and clearly you are because she’s like your whole soulmate. Platonic, I know.” 

All of the air is stuck in Steve’s lungs, making his chest tight and he’s just waiting for the pit in his stomach to swallow him whole. He’s opened his mouth to speak a couple of times but nothing is coming out – Eddie’s drowning in a sea of insecurities and he’s doing nothing to help. 

“Okay. I’m just going to spit it out. I’m gay and I have the biggest crush on you.” 

I have the biggest crush on you.

Steve can breathe again. His cheeks are hot and he knows if he looked in a mirror they’d be bright pink. 

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s quiet enough in the trailer that Steve can hear when Eddie chokes on his inhale. 

“..what?” Eddie’s shoulders aren’t tense anymore, and he tilts his head at Steve with furrowed brows. He almost looks like a puppy. 

“Sorry, yeah, totally cool with the gay thing. Even more on board with the crush thing, so can I kiss you?” 

Eddie’s still just looking at Steve with wide, brown eyes. 

Alright, that’s fine, Steve can close the distance. Steve leans forward slowly and brushes the curls away from Eddie’s face, watches his eyes go wide with wonder before leaning in. Their noses bump when their lips first meet but then Eddie tilts his head and Steve’s world with it. Eddie’s hands come up to cup Steve’s jaw, cold rings sending sparks along his face and Steve smiles into the kiss. They part for a moment, matching grins on their faces. After a beat, Eddie leans in again and Steve shifts closer on the couch. 

As soon as he starts shifting, Eddie’s hands start tugging him closer until Steve’s straddling the older boy’s black jean clad lap. Steve boxes him in easily, resting slightly on Eddie’s lap to change the angle again. Eddie nips at his lip, gaining full access to his mouth when Steve gasps at the sensation. The sounds of the movie have completely faded now, Steve more focused on the soft smacking of their lips when they disconnect and meet again. 

The need for air causes them to part, but Eddie doesn’t go far, tucking his face into Steve’s neck. If it wasn’t for how warm Steve was already feeling, he might’ve been able to feel the warmth from the blush on Eddie’s face. Instead he feels Eddie’s lips against his skin as the metalhead murmurs. “Holy shit. Holy shit. Am I dreaming right now?”

“Not a dream, baby. If it wasn’t obvious, I have a huge crush on you too.”

Eddie leans more into Steve’s neck, placing a kiss at his pulse point. A couple more kisses are placed on Steve’s neck and he feels himself melt into Eddie’s lap. He feels Eddie’s hands clench slightly at the movement and then they slip under his shirt, fingertips pressing gently at Steve’s lower back and hips. A gasp escapes him when Eddie nibbles at his neck, teeth pulling at the skin in a way that Steve knows will leave a mark. 

For a moment he imagines the older boy leaving different marks on him and lending him his signature leather jacket for everyone knows who Steve belongs to. But Steve’s getting ahead of himself, this is only their first kiss. There’s no guarantee that Eddie wants this to be a serious thing. 

“Sweetheart?” When Steve glances down, Eddie’s pupils are still blown slightly even though his eyebrows are scrunched in confusion. “Did you hear me?” He must see his answer in Steve’s eyes because the confusion leaves and Steve’s looking at the softest expression he thinks he’s ever seen. 

“I asked if you wanted to be my boyfriend?” There’s an edge to Eddie’s voice and his hands tighten for a moment before loosening again. As though he’s worried about Steve’s answer, like Steve’s not already on the precipice of falling in love with he boy in front of him.

“Only if you let me take you on an official date.” All of the tension leaves Eddie and he grins, leaning up towards Steve again.

“I think I can agree with that.” 

And what else is Steve supposed to do but lean in for another kiss?

[vanishingstarrs]

taste ( katsuki bakugo x popstar!reader, sort of established relationship, inspired by please please please by s. carpenter ) ( testing the waters for this fic w a short n’ sweet chap, pls enjoy, drop your thoughts, i have a longer vers coming, sorry for the wait omg i just want this to be soso perfect for y’all )

part one, part two

“Fuck my life.”

“What?” Your best friend, Misaki, asked from the stall beside yours.

You sighed, holding your phone in your hand as you walked out and met up with her at the sinks. You hadn’t even needed to use the restroom, you just wanted to check your messages in private.

“This asshole might actually be decent.” You rolled your eyes as you sent a text back.

“Dynamight?!” She smirked, trying to peek over your shoulder, but you were quick to shield your screen from her and exclaim that she’d get water on your dress if she didn’t quit being nosy while washing up.

“Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.” You corrected with a grin,“But yeah I guess mostly everyone calls him Dynamight for short.”

“The fact that you know his full on dorky hero name tells me all I need, girl.” She said as she reapplied lipgloss in the mirror.

You scoffed,“Uh, if anyone’s down bad, it’s him, look at this text he just sent.”

k (ृ ु*`ω´)ु: Just leave the lame ass party.

k (ृ ु*`ω´)ु: I’ll come get you.

Misaki gasped,“You dirty little slut, you wouldn’t actually leave me here to go see him would you?”

You hid your face with your hair as you contemplated your answer,“...noooo.”

“You hesitated.”

“Okay, maybe I would like to see him tonight...” You relented,“Would you hate my guts?”

“Not if you call me tomorrow to hash out all the details of your dirty little tryst with the number two hero.” She grinned devilishly.

Lucky for you that no one else had walked into the bathroom since the both of you came in here, you didn’t need everyone hearing all the details of your private life.

“Deal.”

You neglected to tell her that you’d already texted him back.

y/n ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁): how soon can you get here

k (ृ ु*`ω´)ु: Already left, be there in ten.

y/n ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁): meet u outside xo

You left once you saw Misaki make it back to the rest of your friends, waving to them and blowing a kiss from the door before heading to the front of the building and grabbing your coat.

You were just about to put it on when a pair of hands ripped the material from your hold and a voice stated,“Let me help you.”

You watched dumbfounded as Katsuki Bakugo held out your jacket for you, he raised his eyebrow at you, holding it closer to your arms and indicating for you to put them through when you just stared,“Don’t have all night, c’mon, baby.”

You couldn’t help roll your eyes as you finally put it on,“Actually, we do have all night.” You turned around and he carefully pulled your hair out from underneath before his palm found your cheek, a soft caress that had you leaning in instinctively. “How’s it looking out there?”

“Bunch of paps, I’m sorry, they must’ve already known you were here.” He placed a kiss on your cheek as his official hello to you,“Just say the word and I’ll blast them all to hell.”

You snorted,“Yeah, right, and with it your career.” You rolled your eyes again and took his hand in yours,“C’mon, might as well face the music.”

You walked out together, lights flashing in your faces from the moment you opened the door and the paparazzi realized it was you. They began shouting louder once they realized who was with you, Bakugo took the lead though, using a strong arm to push people away from you and yelling,“Touch her and you die!”

Hot, you thought to yourself as you smirked and allowed him to pull you along. Who needed security when you had the number two hero on your arm?

He brought you around to his car,“Dunce face and ears are gonna kill me tomorrow.”

“Who?” You asked, confused.

“My dumb friends.” He scoffed,“They’re huge fans of you, once they realized I’ve kept you a secret they’re gonna freak out and yell at me.”

You chuckled,“Well my friends know so you can tell yours anything you want… within reason.”

He gave you a smug grin and opened the door for you, holding out his hand for you to get in carefully with the tall heels you were wearing. He went around the car and got in himself, finally allowing himself to indulge in a deep kiss now that you had the privacy.

It wasn’t until the next morning when it all began, Misaki spamming your phone with texts and calls about the news articles and asking you to please avoid social media.

You didn’t, of course, too curious for your own good.

You leaned closer into Katsuki’s warmth as you read through the headlines and saw the photos snapped of the two of you hand in hand, your accounts were worse… people online didn’t bother to hide their displeasure. You were suddenly blind, your taste questionable, and everyone was saying you had terrible judgement.

And yet, you couldn’t help disagree as you felt a kiss on the back of your neck and the grip around your waist become slightly tighter.

This thing you had was good, you knew it.

[sincerestlove]

Jealousy

reneé is SO BEAUTIFUL i am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. someone call 911 because i am about to have a heart attack. babygirl is SO FUCKING FINE.

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Request: Regina x reader where Regina and reader are in a secret relationship but someone tries to hit on reader at a party and Regina gets jealous?

Warnings: None; just hot, protective, jealous, possessive regina.

~

"Hi, pretty girl." Your beautiful girlfriend greeted you at her front door with a smile, pretty white teeth on display. She held her hand out for you, which you accepted gratefully, allowing her to pull you to her car.

You had previously agreed to meet her here so that she could drive the both of you to Gretchen's party tonight. Usually, she would have asked you come over earlier in the day so you could get ready together, but you already made plans to get your hair done. Regina complained about it when you told her, but with the way she was looking at you now, she wasn't upset anymore.

The blonde led you to her passenger's side door, gently backing you against it, before leaning down and taking your lips in a bruising kiss. "You look so hot in that outfit." She breathed out against your lips, her hands sneaking up and under your top. Her touch was so light it was almost ticklish, feeling yourself smiling into the kiss. "And your hair looks perfect."

She always managed to make you feel good about yourself, always make you feel beautiful. She constantly showered you with compliments, even when you weren't all done up like this.

Pulling away reluctantly, you blinked, before meeting Regina's bright eyes, marveling at the way the hues of blue and green with a dash of orange, blended together. You took the opportunity to take in her outfit. She looked breathtaking - tight, black tank top underneath her leather jacket, dark jeans, with silver jewelry adorning her slender fingers, neck and ears.

God, you were the luckiest girl in the world.

"You look gorgeous, Gina." You spoke shyly, leaning back up into her, hands fisting into her jacket and tugging her closer. She kissed you again, warm tongue nudging your lips apart. You got lost in each other for a few moments, pleasant sighs coming from your mouth.

Regina broke apart from your lips, moving to nip at the skin of your exposed neck. You couldn't help letting out the soft moan that bubbled in your throat, head moving back to rest against the cold window. "If you keep doing that, I just might have to take you back inside, pretty girl." She murmured against your skin, sucking harshly, leave behind a few dark purple marks. You sent her a pointed look as she pulled away, a satisfied smirk on her lips. "Just to make sure everyone knows who you belong to."

Regina nudged you aside and opened the door, gesturing for you to get in as your face turned beet red. She was always quite possessive of you, even from the start of your "secret" relationship, but even more so when you went to parties together.

Honestly, it was hot.

She shut the door once you were settled, moving around to slide into the driver's seat. "Buckle up, baby." She flashed you a killer smile before peeling out of her driveway, free hand coming to rest on the exposed skin of your thigh. The touch made you shiver, shifting slightly in your seat. The blonde sent you a knowing look, laughing under her breath.

She absolutely loved the effect she had on you.

~~~

The party was already in full swing by the time you and Regina arrived. She parked in Gretchen's massive driveway, making sure that no one else could block her in. You really weren't a huge fan of parties, but eventually, viewed it as another opportunity to spend more time with your girlfriend. Albeit, in a setting you didn't prefer, but you could take that on the chin without much of an issue. Any time that you could spend with her was more than worth it.

"You want a drink?" You nodded, following closely behind as the blonde beelined to the kitchen, opening the fridge to pull out a colorful drink. She opened it for you, before setting it in your hand. You thanked her gratefully, taking a sip of the drink. It was quite sweet, the taste of alcohol very minimal, which you appreciated.

Regina looked around the room, eyes stopping on Gretchen and Karen. The two girls were sitting in the living room on the couch, Gretchen crying her eyes out. You both could tell they were very drunk. Regina sighed, turning to you. "I'll be right back, going to go check on them." You nodded, taking another swig. "Don't go anywhere, yeah?" She squeezed your hand, lingering for a moment longer before walking off toward her friends.

You watched her off, hips swaying confidently, the crowd moving out of her way without missing a beat. It still amazed you how she could command an entire room so easily.

You were lost in thought for a little while as Regina disappeared into the crowd, until you felt a quick few taps on your shoulder. Spinning around, you were met with the sight of Cady, grinning at you. Since when did she go to parties?

You thought she was nice enough, knowing her on a very minimal level as the two of you shared a math class last year. You hadn't really spoken to her much since then, only a friendly hello here and there when passing each other in the hallways.

"Hey, Y/N, funny seeing you here tonight. I had no idea you were coming!" You smiled at the redhead awkwardly, shuffling on your feet.

"Yeah, Gretchen invited me. And Regina." You smiled at the mention of your girlfriend's name, doing a quick glance over to where she was supposed to be. The trio was no longer in the living room, though, making you frown. Maybe they went up to Gretchen's room to calm her down?

"Where is she?" You looked back over to Cady, noticing that she had taken a step closer to you, leaning forwards. The surprise of it made you stumble back, coming in contact with the counter behind you.

You laughed slightly, hand gripping tighter on your drink. "Oh, uh...she just went to the bathroom. She should be right back."

Cady cocked her head to the side, taking another step closer to you. "Really? Cause I've been watching you for a little while and she still hasn't come back." Her smile got wider, hand coming up to brush your arm. You recoiled at the touch, flushing yourself back against the counter. A rush of panic washed over you, killing what little buzz you had, noticing the smell of alcohol on her breath and the glazed over look in her eyes. "You know, Y/N", she brushed against your arm as she continued, "I've always had a crush on you. I think you are so pretty." She batted her eyelashes, biting on her lip. "Would you want to maybe go out sometime?"

You just blinked at her, completely baffled at what had come out of her mouth. "Oh..." You smiled awkwardly, moving even farther back to create more space between you, "Cady...I'm really flattered, but no, I think we would be better off as just friends."

Cady laughed. "Come on, I think we would be so great together. Don't you?" She leaned even closer, looking at you expectantly.

Was this girl serious?

As your brows knitted together, you was about to tell her no again, when a warm body pressed against yours from behind, all too familiar hands slipping around your waist and pulling you flush to her. The sweet scent of her perfume filled your nose, relaxing you almost instantly.

"I think the lady said no, Cady." Regina's tone was short and laced with anger, her arms tightening around you. You didn't even have to look at her to know that she was glaring holes in Cady's head. The girl turned red with embarrassment, muttering an apology under her breath before quickly running off.

You let out a deep breath you hadn't realized you were holding, nearly going limp in Regina's embrace. "Are you okay, pretty girl?" Regina turned you around to face her, eyes scanning your face. You nodded as she cupped your cheeks and set your drink on the counter, pulling you in for a sweet kiss. You melted into her, leaning your weight against her front. After a moment you separated, smiling at each other, until you heard someone clearing their throat.

Oh, shit. The party.

"Gina, everyone is looking at us." You whispered, feeling anxiety bubbling in your stomach and crawling up your throat.

Everyone had gone quiet, the eyes of almost all of your classmates locked on the two of you. Regina tensed, but surprisingly, didn't let go. "Me and Y/N are together." Regina voiced loudly without wasting a beat, eyes softening as she looked at you. "And if any of you losers have a problem with it, I will burn you to the ground."

The crowd murmured amongst itself and you watched as everyone simply nodded, shrugged and went on with the party as they were. Both you and Regina visibly relaxed, thankful that there wasn't much of a scene.

No one cared, really. Half of the student population already assumed that you two were together. Neither of you hid it very well - exchanging lovesick glances at lunch, holding hands "platonically" yeah right, lesbians, bringing each other coffee and lunch, whispering to each other and giggling. Gretchen and Karen already knew, exchanging smiles as they watched Regina proudly kiss you in her kitchen.

You smiled at your girlfriend, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You never imagined coming out together in this way, but honestly, it was very fitting. Regina hugged you tightly, whispering her love and adoration for you in your ears, loud enough for only you to hear.

"I love you."

Your heart fluttered, feeling a few tears fall down your cheeks. "I love you, Gina." You held each other for a few long moments before separating. The blonde was looking down at you, pretty smile sitting on her pretty lips. "So..." you trailed off, a teasing smile playing at the corners of your mouth. "Were you jealous of Cady?"

Regina scoffed, rolling her eyes. "As if. That girl could never hold a candle to me. She should've taken a hint - there's like, three big ass hickeys on your neck."

You laughed, pulling her in for another kiss, unable to resist. "No one ever could hold a candle to you, Gina." She just looked so hot when she was jealous. "Take me home?"

The blonde grinned, taking your hands and dragging you to the door without wasting another moment. "I thought you'd never ask, pretty girl."

~

i hope you enjoyed!

as always, please leave requests if you have any! :)

[thelargefrye]

February Filth Fest : DAY TWO : CHEATING / CREAMPIE … mature one - shot

pairing : gangster!seongjoong x f!reader

genre : smut, high & low au, strangers to maybe lovers, pinch of angst if you squint

word count : 2.6k

warnings : language, cheating (your bf cheats on you so you cheat on him🤷‍♀️), so douche boyfriend, smoking, a little drinking, kind of fighting, little crying (but in a good way, promise)

smut warnings : unprotected sex, implied threesome, creampie, pet names (doll, princess)

honorary suffer tag : for my bestie braincell @sanjoongie

your boyfriend cheats on you, so you seek out the two most feared men in your district for revenge.

DAY ONE ↤ HiGH&LOW: MATZ ↦ DAY THREE

"you want us to do what?" seonghwa's eyes feel like they are piercing through your body as he stares down at you, eyebrow raised. you obviously surprised him, but he's too calculated to actually show that surprise. he's a feared leader within the sword distract, he can't afford to act surprised.

"i want you guys to help me get revenge on my boyfriend," you repeat yourself, showing him and his partner, hongjoong, that you are dead serious.

"revenge?" hongjoong says as he stands up to move towards you. he bends down to where you're eye level, an evil smirk overtaking his face. it makes you consider whether you should have even come here, but you can't back out now. that bastard of a boyfriend needs to pay. "what kind of revenge are you looking for doll?"

"he's cheating on me," you say looking at hongjoong and its his turn to raise an eyebrow at you this time. hongjoong turns his head to look at seonghwa, the eldest of the two clenching jaw as he rolls his neck. his 'matz' tattoo proudly on display as he does so and you can't help but to lick your lips.

seonghwa exudes a display of power that you have never truly experienced before, and that's probably what makes him so feared among all the different gangs. which was exactly why you wanted him and hongjoong to help you with this revenge.

"cheating, huh?" seonghwa says, reaching into the inside of his jacket pocket and pulling a pack of cigarettes. he takes one out before slotting it between his lips and effortlessly lighting it with his lighter. you note the metal and detailed design on his lighter, custom made.

"and how would you want to get this revenge, doll?" hongjoong asks, grabbing your chin and making you turn your attention to him.

seonghwa blows out a puff of smoke from his lips the smile time you look at hongjoong with a grin of your own. "i'm glad you asked."

the music was loud as you walked through the club. so loud that you could feel the bass vibrating through your entire body. the lights of the club were flashing a mix of vibrant colors and you almost started to strain your eyes.

and not to mention how packed it was in here, you rarely went clubbing for this very reason of not being a huge fan of packed crowds of sweaty, drunk people. usually you would have had someone's elbow in your ribs, but tonight was different. people parted the way like you were royalty.

well... it wasn't because of you, but the one who had their arm draped over you. you were pulled closely in seonghwa's side, your body leaning into his. hongjoong was leading the two of you, a lot of people moving out of there way and you noticed a few odd looks some club-goers gave you.

which you honestly wouldn't blame them. you were wrapped around one of the most dangerous and feared men in the city and walking through a club with two of them. you would give yourself a weird look too. but you really, you didn't have time to think about these people. there was only one person who needed to see you.

your douche soon-to-be ex-boyfriend.

you soon found yourself in the vip section, looking down at the dance floor, your eyes scanning everywhere for your boyfriend. hongjoong came to stand next to you, arm around your shoulders as if he was also looking.

"do you see him?" he asks, and you're surprised you can hear him from how loud the music was.

"i don–

right as you're about to say no, that's when you spot him, wrapped around a girl as they grind against each other and it makes you cringe a little.

"right there! in the black button up," you say pointing at him and hongjoong lets out a chuckle as he pulls you against him.

"you could definitely do better than him, doll," he says. "the girl is pretty," he begins to add and you can't a wave of uneasiness crash over you, but before it could drag you under hongjoong adds, "but you're prettier. especially in this dress seonghwa picked out."

you turn to see him grinning at you and he cages you between the railing and himself. you run a hand down his chest, his bright orange fur coat standing out even against the flashing club lights. and you had to admit he was right, the sequin red dress that seonghwa picked out did not only make you look hot, but you felt like it too.

funny how these two men could make you feel something your boyfriend never could. your eyes flicker behind hongjoong to see seonghwa sitting on the leather seating, cigarette between his lips as he takes a long drag, his eyes locked on you and hongjoong. you felt a chill run down your spine and goosebumps cover your whole bond thanks to his stare alone.

"shall we go have fun now that we found him?" you ask hongjoong with a tilt of your head and hongjoong can't help but let out a small laugh.

"i knew there was a reason why i liked you, doll, that feistiness gets me going," he says, grin on his lips before he's leading you down the stairs.

like seonghwa, hongjoong was quick to drape his arm around you, showing you off as people parted for the two of you, mainly him. he lead the two of you over to the bar, the bartender immediately seeing hongjoong and coming over to get your orders. while you two waited, you looked around and spotted your boyfriend at the other end of the bar with some of his friends.

you felt an odd rage course through you knowing that he was having the time of his life partying, drinking, and cheating on you. while he thinks you're at home and waiting for him to return. you feel hongjoong's arm move from your shoulders to your waist. you turn away from looking at your boyfriend to hongjoong who's already grinning at you. he slides your drink over to before taking a sip of his own.

you quickly down your drink, "i have to use the bathroom," you say before slipping away from hongjoong; however, hongjoong stops you before you get too far away from him.

"go to seonghwa if i'm not here, okay?"

"okay," you say and he gives you a smile before letting you go and turning back to his drink while also ordering another from. and so you make your way to the bathroom.

when you exit the bathroom, you begin to make your way back to the bar, back to hongjoong, but before you could get too far you are stopped. a hand grabbing your wrist and a little too aggressively pulling you back. you let out a surprise yelp as you're turning around and coming face to face with your boyfriend.

"holy shit the guys were right," he says looking at you with surprise all over his face. "i didn't believe them and then i saw you at the bar with... with kim hongjoong. what are you even doing here?"

"what do you mean? am i not allowed to party like you?" you ask, pulling your wrist away from him, an eyebrow raised.

"that's not what i mean," he says, letting out an annoyed sound, "what are you doing here with some gangsters? everyone saw you came in draped around park seonghwa like you were his girl."

"because she is my girl, bastard," you see your boyfriend go pale at the voice behind him and you both look behind him to see seonghwa standing there with a bored expression.

"what are you talking about? i'm her boyfriend! not some thug like you!" your boyfriend says, trying his best to sound intimidating. however, it takes a lot more than a puffed chest to intimidate seonghwa.

"really?" seonghwa says with an annoyed laugh as he rolls his neck, his tattoo standing out boldly in the moment. "you claim to be her boyfriend, yet you're here with another woman instead of her. she's not yours anymore fucker, she's mine. princess," he says, now addressing you, "go get hongjoong. we're leaving."

you nod your head, but before you could get away your ex grabs you by the wrist, stopping. "you're not leaving with these punks until we ta–

he's cut off when seonghwa grabs himself by the collar and shoves him away from you. you notice a burning fire in his eyes as he stalks towards your ex who begins to back away scared by seonghwa. but then seonghwa stopped and turned towards you once more, "princess, go get hongjoong," he told you again and this time you went without anything stopping you.

"hongjoong, seonghwa wants to leave," you say, tugging on his orange fur coat. hongjoong sets his drink down before getting up and following you towards where you left seonghwa and your ex. you tell hongjoong what happened and you notice the grin the takes over his face.

seonghwa meets the two of you outside the club and you notice his knuckles are a little red and busted. however, you choose not to comment on them. instead you watch as he lights another cigarette, taking a drag before blowing the smoke out. his eyes look up to meet yours and can't help but feel something run through and straight to your core.

"your boyfriend is gonna get his shit out of your apartment tonight," seonghwa says as he guides you to get into the car – you honestly didn't notice the car too busy drooling over seonghwa.

"ex-boyfriend," you say, turning to him as you climb into the car and slide over for him to join you. hongjoong rounds the car and gets in on the other side of you. hongjoong says something to their driver before he leans back.

hongjoong wraps his arms around your waist, "i've never been more happy to hear that a word more in my life." seonghwa lets out a laugh at his partner's words. "now we can have you all to ourselves, right doll?"

"right."

you let out a moan, feeling your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as seonghwa pounded into you. you felt your thighs burn from how he has you folded in half and hands gripping the flesh of your thighs tightly. you're pretty sure he'll marks later, but you don't really care now nor will you later.

seonghwa also lets out a series of moans and a few stuttered curses as he continues to thrust into your pussy. his cock stretching your walls out and filling you up as his tip continuously hits your sweet spot. you sling your arm around his shoulder and neck as you let it run down his back, raking your nails down him as you do so.

you feel seonghwa's lip press against your neck leaving open mouth kisses before pulls away to lick up your neck before he's sucking on the skin.

"h-hwa," you moan out as seonghwa moves to sit up slightly in order to thrust harder into you. "fu-f-fuck! so good~"

"you really doing a number on our doll aren't you, hwa?" hongjoong from behind the two of you. hongjoong had fucked you first, cumming in, and kissing you until your lips bruised before he slipped out of you and off your bed to rest in the chair by your desk.

he had a cigarette between his lips when he came to stand behind seonghwa, promptly smacking his ass and making the elder of two turn and send a glare. hongjoong only laughed at his partner before grabbing seonghwa by the back of the neck and crashing their lips together.

even through the kiss, seonghwa's hips didn't falter as he kept a steady pace. when the two separated, seonghwa seemed to have gained some extra energy as he continued to drill into you. his thumb coming down to vigorously rub at your clit and you couldn't help the moans and whines that escaped you.

"f-fuck, you feel so good," he grunts out as he wraps his arms around your body and rolls the two of you over so you're now on top. you feel seonghwa's hand run through your hair before gripping it harshly and crashing your lips together. his tongue enters your mouth and you note it tastes like smoke and whatever drink he had at the club.

when he pulls away as you feel his hands roam over your body, groping different parts of you as he begins to harshly thrust into you from below at an almost unthinkable pace. to be honest you had never felt this pleasured before, your ex never making you feel the things both hongjoong and seonghwa have made you feel.

you can't but bury your face in his neck, tears welling up in your eyes at the overwhelming feelings that this man is making you feel.

"hm, do-does it feel g-good, princess?" seonghwa asks, feeling your walls clench around him. he voice becomes rather breathy, his thrust getting longer as he grabs your ass.

"s-so good," you say, voice shaking and you silently cry from how it all feels. and then like a wave pleasure washing over your body, you cum. you let out a loud moan-sob mixed with seonghwa's name and you also pumps his cum inside you.

your mind is fuzzy as you lay on top of seonghwa, both of you sweaty and out of breath. your body stuck to his thanks to the sweat and also how you don't have the energy to move.

you feel your bed dip next to you and seonghwa before a hand comes to rest on your back, running up and down before gently pulling you off and away from seonghwa. his cock falls out of you and you whine at the emptiness; however, hongjoong's hand comes down to spread your pussy lips apart and showing off your cum-filled cunt.

"god, look at pretty our doll's pussy is," hongjoong says pressing a kiss to your temple. you look to see seonghwa looking at the both of you with grin on face before he's sitting up and moving to sandwich you between himself and hongjoong.

"why are you crying princess?" seonghwa asks, hand coming up to brush the tears away. you won't lie, his softness surprises you. his eyes that are usually cold and hard are now soft and his voice is gentle in a way. soothing. you didn't even know you were fully crying.

"hmm?" hongjoong cranes his head to look at you, a pout now on his lips as he looks at you. "what's the matter doll?"

"i guess all the emotions from today and from my ex cheating on me has just finally hit me," you confess with a small laugh. "i had never felt so much pleasure before, so i guess it just overwhelmed me... in a good way."

"your ex never made you cum?" seonghwa asks, reaching over to grab a cigarette before lighting it. he rests next to you and hongjoong, against your headboard and smoking. you crawl a little bit away from hongjoong in order to sit at the end of your bed.

"figures," hongjoong says when seonghwa passes him the cigarette. "spineless fucker, imagine the poor girl who's stuck with him now."

you can't help but let out a laugh as you watch the two of the most feared men in your city share a cigarette and gossip between each other about you ex. it sure was a funny sight to see honestly.

you watch seonghwa talk a long drag before putting the cigarette out, "come here, princess. you don't have to worry about that bastard and his no pleasurable dick anymore."

you smile, nodding before crawling between the two men and immediately laying your head on seonghwa's chest as hongjoong hugs you from behind. "thank you, joongie, hwa."

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[mermaidgirl30]

✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Part 7: Can I Keep You?✨

Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: This fic is coming to a close, and I’ve loved writing every word of this one 🥹 Thank you to @lotusbxtch for beta reading 🩵 I plan to write an epilogue for this, and I may write some one-shots to throw in if I get the inspiration in the future. Thank you for coming along on this journey with me!

Summary: Christmas with your parents and the Millers was all fine, until they caught you with Joel.

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 6.1k

Chapter Tags: A little angst, arguments, no use y/n, lots of fluff, soft Joel, switching POVs, going to omit some tags due to spoilers

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Christmas Day is here before you know it as the cool air blows against your crimson sweater. It sinks through your denim jeans as you make your way back into the house, back to where Joel and Sarah sit in the living room. A football game is playing over the flat screen, and glistening lights flash against the huge tree that sits in the corner of the room.

   Snowflakes tap lightly against the glass as your dad gives your mom the last of her gifts, your eyes flicking over to Joel as he leans into the back of the leather couch, a smile curled against the corner of his mouth as he steals glances your way every few seconds.

   God, his smile gets you every single time, making butterflies flit through your stomach as you take in the brown doe eyes that you can’t seem to keep your eyes off. You just can’t believe he’s yours. Something he reminds you every single day.

   You cling to the fleece blanket Joel gifted you, twisting your fingers against the soft material, bathing in the woodsy scent that sticks to it. And let’s not forget the Metallica concert tickets he got you, winking when your dad asked who you were taking. Joel fucking Miller, that’s who. Your man. Yours.

   He’s wearing the new hunter green flannel you got him, the material clinging against his broad shoulders, biceps hugging the sleeves as you try not to drool in your spot because the man just looks so damn good. 

   You want to sit in his lap, rake your fingers through his greying curls, let his lips brush against yours while his large hands pull you flush to his strong chest, let his woodsy scent completely lather you as you get lost in this plush lips, fingers scraping over his soft scruff. You just want him.

   “Hey, Sarah. Wanna go over to the Silverton’s for a few minutes with Claire and I?” Your dad asks as Sarah bounces off the couch, excited to visit because they always make her favorite chocolate chip cookies. 

   “Heck yeah! Dad, wanna come, too?” she asks as her long hair swishes behind her shoulders, her sparkling eyes finding yours after she calls your name a second later.

   Joel flicks his brown eyes your way and shakes his head. “Nah, you go on, kid. Gonna stay back this time.”

   She looks between the two of you and snickers, knowing exactly why you both had said no. She knows, and she absolutely loves the idea of you and Joel together which makes this whole situation much easier to navigate.

   “Hun, you sure you don’t wanna come?” your dad asks as he pulls his bulky winter jacket on.

   You shake your head. “No, I’m fine. Just gonna sit around the fire and watch some football,” you reply, trying to hide your smile as Joel smirks your way.

   “Football, huh? When did you become such a football fan?” he laughs.

   You shrug your shoulders and smile. “Guess I figured it’s not too bad to watch.”

   Joel shakes his head, chuckling under his breath at the memory of a few nights ago. You were sat on the edge of his bed, his cock stretching your drenched walls wide as he thrusted his hips up and down, your back flush to his broad chest as the glow of the tv played a football game you were paying no attention to, just focusing on how fucking good he felt thrusting his cock deep inside your pussy until he made you come hard and long. 

   “Think she figured out how hard those players play ball,” Joel smirks. You giggle at the memory and throw a fuzzy pillow over at him as he catches it before your parents can see. 

   “Suit yourself. See y’all in a little bit.” He waves as he rushes your mom and Sarah through the door with a present wrapped in glittery blue paper tucked snugly under his arm.

   The second they’re gone, you throw your blanket off and make your way to Joel, collapsing onto the leather couch as he tucks you snuggly into his side. You slide the palm of your hand up the inside of his black shirt, resting your fingers on his warm stomach as you breathe in the smell of his woodsy cologne.

   “Comfy?” he asks, chuckling as he pulls you closer into his broad body.

   “Very,” you smile. He bends his head down and presses a kiss slowly to your forehead, his fingers tracing the ends of your spiral curls as you sigh at the softness that makes Joel just perfect.

   “Figured,” he chuckles.

   You watch the fire crackle with orange sparks in your vision, the Christmas lights shining brightly as the tree glitters with dark green lights twinkling in the corner. It’s quiet in here, a peaceful Christmas evening, and you have Joel all to yourself for the next few minutes. 

   Joel runs his fingers lazily over your back, pushing your hair across your left shoulder as he trails the back of his calloused index finger over your jawline. “I, ummm, got you one more gift,” he says nervously, his free hand raking down his greying scruff.

   You sit up straight and stare at him, spellbound. Another present? “Joel, what more could you possibly give me? I mean, those Metallica tickets must’ve cost you a fortune! And that fancy steak dinner you took me to? You’ve done enough,” you giggle, letting your hand fall down on his denim clad thigh.

   He chuckles and shakes his head. “I know, but jus’ trust me. I think you’re gonna like this one,” he smiles as he digs deep inside the pocket of his dark jeans, pulling a light blue velvet jewelry box out as he displays it in the palm of his hand.

   You open your mouth wide in shock, your index finger grazing the outside of the velvety case as your mind starts ticking like a timebomb. “What is it?” you whisper, not even recognizing the muttering voice that asks the question.

   “Open it and see,” he smiles, his brown doe eyes sparkling with excitement as he hands you the tiny box.

   You slowly grasp it in your palm, taking a deep breath as you carefully open the lid of the box. Your eyes grow wide when you see a silver chain necklace displayed inside, complete with a key that glints under the dim lights of the living room. You pull it out and assess it, running your fingers over the crisp edges, and then when you turn the key around you freeze.

   Right there in the middle of the silver key are the words “Miller’s Girl” carved in fancy cursive, completewith a little heart to the right of the name. You freeze, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as you take in the most perfect gift he’s given you by far. “Joel…” you whisper, eyes glossing over as you think you know what this is.

   He turns you toward him and leans in, a crooked smile pressed against his mouth as he looks at you with longing, syrupy eyes that make you want to just melt into a puddle on the floor. “I know you’ve been havin’ a hard time pickin’ an apartment out of all the ones we’ve looked at, but I want you to forget that. Forget every single one we’ve ever viewed, forget the paperwork, forget the costs, forget it all,” he murmurs quickly. 

   You drop the jewelry box on the floor without a thought in your mind, one hand latched onto the silver necklace, the other laced through his fingers, holding on to every single word he’s telling you.

   “You don’t belong in any of them. You jus’ belong in my bed, in my house, with me,” he states, honey-glazed eyes locking with yours as heat builds in your chest.

   “Joel…” you whisper, losing your breath as you pull yourself back together. “Are you asking me to…?”

   “Yes,” he sighs, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear tenderly. “I’m askin’ you to move in with me because I jus’ can’t stand that thought of not havin’ you in my arms every single night now, sweetheart. Wanna take this a step further, if that’s what you want, too,” he smiles as he brushes the tip of his thumb over your lower lip. “Wanna see what it’s like wakin’ up to your gorgeous face in the mornings, wanna know what it’s like havin’ you in my space permanently. Move in with me.”

   Your eyes glaze over with pure admiration and love for every single word Joel just spilled from his lips. You think it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

   You throw your arms around his neck and wrap him tight in your embrace as his arms tangle around your back. “Yes, a million times yes!” you shriek, planting your lips on his as he pulls you down against his lap. 

   When he pulls away, he spins you around, instructing you to hold your hair up as he carefully latches the necklace around your neck. When you turn back around and face him, one hand is caressing your cheek softly while the other is curving down your personalized necklace, the literal key to his heart.

   Your thumb traces over the words Miller’s Girl and end on the heart as his hand comes down to clasp around yours. “Miller’s Girl, huh?” you ask with a wide smile splayed all over your mouth.

   “That’s right, sweetheart. Thought I’d get it carved on there to remind you jus’ who you belong to so you never forget,” he smiles, his glistening eyes bright and beautiful as he presses a delicate kiss to the back of your knuckles.

   You giggle and shake your head in amazement, watching the absolute love of your life express just how he feels about you. It’s all so surreal, all so perfect. And you honestly think it couldn’t get much better than this.

   “You really want me to move in?” you whisper as you look into those gentle brown eyes you can’t get enough of.

   “I really do, sweetheart,” he smiles.

   He cups your chin and brings you to his mouth slowly, and then your lips are on his. The kiss is slow, passionate as your fingers curl around his soft flannel, breathing in the woodsy cologne that makes your head dizzy. 

   “Never gonna let you go,” he whispers as his mouth crashes back down on yours while your arms lock around his neck, and he pulls you flush to his chest. 

   You get so wrapped up in the kiss that you don't hear the front door being shoved open, and then your world shifts and stops in the next second.

   “What the hell is this!” your dad shouts across the room. 

 You frantically pull away from Joel and shoot up from the couch, clutching your necklace with wide eyes as you freeze. Oh, shit. 

   Joel pushes himself off the leather couch and holds a hand out. “George, I can explain,” Joel replies softly, but you can see the panic flaring in his dark brown eyes.

   “Can you explain why you have your mouth and your hands all over my daughter?!” he yells angrily as his roar echoes around the vicinity of the house. Sarah looks between you and Joel and wishes she could help; your mom just stands there with her hand on her chest like she can’t believe this is happening. 

   Joel takes a deep breath and sighs. “Jus’ cool it, George. I can explain.”

   Your dad cuts Joel’s voice off and shoves past him, snatching your wrist as he starts to drag you toward the sliding glass door. “Excuse me, I need to talk to my daughter alone. I’ll deal with you next,” he growls as he throws you outside on the patio and slams the door shut, only having it become open again as your mom slips outside. 

   Your blood races in your body, and you can’t stop the sheer panic that’s making your heart beat straight out of your chest. “Wanna tell me why the fuck my best friend was all over you?” he asks sternly with his big hands on his hips.

   “We… we're together!” you stutter out.

   “Together? You mean to tell me you two have been dating behind my back?” His eyes glow almost red, and you fight to hide behind anything to shield yourself from how mad he looks. 

   “Yes! We’ve been dating! Not like we could’ve told you because this is how your reaction would’ve been!” 

   “That don’t give you the right to be sneaking behind my back, little girl. And Joel?! For the love of god, he’s twice your age! You know how bad that looks having my best friend go after my daughter who’s still in college?” he bites out with gnashing teeth.

   “I’m not a child, Dad! I’m twenty-six-years-old,” you pout while you cross your arms over your chest, feeling the bite of frigid wind blast through your sweater. “And I’m not in college. I’m in law school, which is super hard to even get into in the first place. And you know what? I’m making straight A’s! But you wouldn’t get that, would you? Because once again, you’re disregarding my accomplishments and making me feel awful about them.” You feel warm tears splash against your cheeks while your mom just stands there in shock. She wouldn’t dare interrupt when your dad is having a meltdown, but you see it in her glossy eyes that she doesn’t agree with him. Maybe she’s on your side after all. 

   “I’m not overlooking your accomplishments,” he scoffs as he shakes his head.

   “Yes, you are! Are you hearing yourself?”

   “Just cool it, kid. Enough. He’s forty-five, twice your age. What the fuck were you thinking? Did he manipulate you into this or did he just decide it was okay to screw around with my daughter?” he asks with an angry tick of his jaw.

   “No, it wasn’t like that at all! Joel is a nice guy, Dad. He would never hurt me. He cares about me, just like I care about him. And I really really like him, Dad.” You catch your breath and loosen the tight grip on your necklace as it falls against your chest. That was clearly a mistake because now he sees the glint of the key, and his eyes grow furious. 

   “What the fuck is this?” he asks angrily as he snatches it and yanks it off your neck. You reach for it, but he swipes it away as he inspects the silver key. “Miller’s girl. The hell does he think he’s doing? Is that a key to his place? Is that why you’ve taken so long to find an apartment because you were planning all along to move in with him?!” His voice is so splattered in anger that you barely recognize the man that stands in front of you, even your mom looks taken aback with wide eyes. 

   “No, Dad! God, just stop! If you can’t talk to me like a normal adult, then just stop. Me and Joel are together whether you like it or not. And that’s not going to stop either of our feelings.”

   “Feelings, huh? That what this is?” He scoffs, scowling down at the necklace as his thumb pierces into the metal. “You clearly don’t know anything, hun. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

   “But Dad, I love him!” you whine, biting your lip to keep fresh tears from slipping down your cheeks.

   “Love?!” he ridicules, spitting out the word like it’s poison on his tongue. “You don’t know anything about love or Joel,” he mutters. 

   “No? I think I know a hell of a lot more about Joel than you do. If you really took a good look at the picture, you’d see how clearly in love me and Joel are with each other. And this is why we decided to not tell you because you just wouldn’t understand. This is why I can’t tell you anything! Because you just throw it back in my face and never support my decisions. God, just for once don’t try to fight me on the one thing I want!” You blow out a deep breath and fist your tight knuckles at your sides.

   “He’s not a good fit for you,” he mumbles under his breath while his fingers tap mindlessly against your necklace.

   “No? Do you know who took me to Galveston when you canceled last minute? Joel did! And who took me around to look at multiple apartments, who spent hours trying to help me find exactly what I wanted? Joel! And you know who is always there for me, who helps me study for tests in my law classes, who is there for me no matter what time of day it is? Joel, Joel, Joel! That’s who! Not you, the man who’s supposed to always be there for me but can’t be. So forgive me for falling in love with someone that could give me everything I needed when I was never given those things in the first place!”

   He looks at you with his jaw ticked, his eyes red from the anger that boils inside him. And maybe you see a tad bit of sorrow and regret in his lost eyes, but he doesn’t even apologize. He just clutches the silver necklace tighter and forms his mouth in a tight line. “Hun, just let me explain,” he tries.

   “Explain?” You laugh and wipe a tear from your lash line. 

   “Yes! Look, I know I haven’t always been there for you with work and everything. But hun, Joel is not the answer to…”

   You turn sharply and cut him off, looking to your mom who just stands in the corner meekly by the sliding door with her eyes wide and mouth locked shut. “Mom, please! Back me up here?”

   “George, just listen to her. Will you? You’re not hearing her,” she tries with an even breath.

   “I’ve heard enough!” he barks as he turns back to you with a deep scowl on his face, obviously still very unhappy with you. But when was he ever happy with you in the first place? Almost never. 

   “Yeah, I’m sure you have. Because you never listen. Thanks for letting me down once again, Dad.” You brush past him without stopping for the necklace, letting the tears burn hot in your eyes as the world slowly caves in on you. You don’t even look at your mom as you rush past her, just needing to be anywhere that they’re not so you can breathe.

   Breathe. Remember how to breathe.

   You sniffle and rub at your blurry eyes, and then you find Joel standing in the middle of the living room with the saddest brown eyes he’s ever given you. This just makes you cry more.

   “Baby, you alright?” he asks with a shaky breath, reaching out an open hand for you as if he can take all the pain away.

   “No.” You push away from his advances and knock your shoulder against his, tugging away until you’re practically sprinting for the door. You don’t stop for Sarah who’s standing in the kitchen, don’t stop for Joel calling your name in that broken tone of his, all you do is rush for fresh air where you’re alone, where you can think. But you don’t really want to be alone, do you? You just want Joel. But your dad has completely ruined that. He ruined everything. 

   Joel feels the icy sting as your shoulder brushes past him; he sees the tears cloud your beautiful eyes as they cascade down your flawless face. He knows he’s fucked, knows your father will hate him now, but all he wants to do is pull you into his strong arms so he can hold you and tell you everything will be alright, that the two of you will be just fine. Because he’s not letting you go. No. He’ll never let you go. Not even if your father hates his guts now.

   Just when he starts to turn and go to you, he feels a looming presence behind him that feels a lot like a rush of cold ice freezing him out. 

   “Joel, a word.” George’s deep voice fills the room, and Joel nods and walks with his head down low like he’s a puppy being scolded for making a mess on the kitchen floor.

   The air feels frigid, and he digs his large hands nervously into the pocket of his jeans while he stands on the back porch and looks over to see George practically tearing him to shreds with just his predatory eyes across the way.

   “How long?” His voice is clipped, and Joel shivers at the sound of that icy tone.

   “George, I…”

   “How. Long.” 

   “Almost seven months…” he says quietly with his head down low.

   “Jesus Christ, Joel.”

   He holds up a palm and tries to explain, but his shaky breath doesn’t do him any favors. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t…”

   “Didn’t what? That’s my daughter, Joel!” His eyes glow violent against the hue of the orange sunset that’s painted in the sky, murky clouds trying to fog over the brightness like the depths of his dark soul right now.

   “I know! You don’t think I didn’t think of that before I started this whole thing?” Joel’s jaw ticks, and his thick fingers form into tight fists as he tries to stay in control. 

   “I don’t know, Joel. You tell me.” George narrows his eyes and crosses his arms as he waits for an explanation.

   “It’s not like I planned to fall for your daughter, it just happened.”

   “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me!” George slams his hand against the closed grill, and Joel sees the glimmer of your silver necklace that sits locked in his unforgiving fist. The one with the key to his heart he so casually gave you earlier. Joel’s eyes glisten with frustrated tears, but he doesn’t let a single one fall. He’s stronger than that.

   “Because this is why I didn’t, why we didn’t! Because we knew you’d be pissed.” His rugged voice comes out clipped because he’s tired, so very tired of hiding his feelings. No more, he’ll lay it out thick if he has to.

   “You’re damn right I’m pissed! You’ve been secretly dating my twenty-six-year-old daughter without me knowing and have been sneaking around this whole time. Hell, did anyone else know?”

   “Sarah knew,” Joel says quietly as he takes a step back.

   “Oh, so you tell her but not me?” George looks positively pissed, to say the least.

   “I didn’t tell her, she figured it out herself. Saw us on a date, and I couldn’t cover that up. So yes, she knows. And Tommy knows, too.”

   “Even better,” George chuckles. “And this? What do you have to say about this?” He clutches the silver key in his palm and stares angrily at Joel while his mouth ticks up in a deep scowl. 

   “That’s… I asked her to move in with me.” There’s no getting around this, so he might as well come clean. But every bone in his body tells him to grab the necklace and run out the door. He needs to make sure you’re okay. That’s the only thing that matters now.

   “Move in with you! Why would you…”

   “Because I love her…” His voice is soft, quiet, like he’s afraid he’ll disturb anyone that hears. 

   “I don’t wanna hear—”

   “George, let him talk. I want to hear this,” Claire turns and nods to him. “Go on, Joel.” Joel hesitates but gives her a tight-lipped smile and says thank you with his softening eyes.

   George pinches the bridge of his nose while he waits, and Joel takes a deep breath before he speaks, letting his nerves settle before he spills it all. “She’s been so stressed tryin’ to find the perfect apartment, and nothing right was workin’. And I jus’… I’d rather her move in with me. ‘Cause I want her there, and I’d look after her and take care of her, and…”

   George grunts and clenches the silver key harder, but Claire just gives him a stern look and tells Joel to continue. “Go on,” she encourages with a small smile. 

   Joel takes a breath and starts again. “Look, George, I never meant to fall for your daughter, but I did. And you know what? It was the best decision of my life. She’s so… she’s so kind and smart as hell. And she jus’ is the brightest ray of sunshine and lights up my entire life. And she’s so beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the world.”

   Claire tears up a little in the corner, and Joel picks absentmindedly at the fringe on his flannel. He can’t help but grin as he thinks of your beautiful smile, the way you make him feel as if no one else in the world exists when you’re with him. You’re like the golden sunset that stays up just long enough to wrap him in pure warmth and sunlight, the one thing that keeps his heart pumping through his veins. You’re it for him, he thinks you always have been. He just didn’t know it till this year.

   “I never thought this would happen, but it did. And I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Even if it meant ruining our friendship and you never forgiving me. I can’t give her up, George. I won’t. She makes me so fuckin’ happy, and I’d die before there was a day I ever hurt her. Losing her isn’t a choice for me because I love her, will continue to love her for as long as I live.”

   “Joel…” Claire smiles with a gleam in her clear eyes. “You really love her?”

   “Mmm. I really do. I’d do jus’ about anything for that girl. She’s so precious to me. So forgive me if I’ve spent the last almost seven months givin’ her everything I possibly could. She has my heart and always will.”

   Claire shifts and wipes a stray tear from her eyes, giving him a warm smile that says she’s so happy her daughter has him. And that takes some relief off his burdened back. Now it’s just George he has to worry about.

   George stares and stares at the silver necklace with knit eyebrows, contorting his features into something Joel can’t make out what it means. There’s a beat of hesitance before George looks up and stares directly into Joel’s eyes, like he’s hearing him clearly for the first time. “You really love my little girl, don’t you…” His eyes clear up, no more hatred or scowling or anything remotely hostile. They’re just awestruck.

   “With all my heart,” Joel mutters through the chill of the evening. 

   The cold breeze slips through Joel’s tousled curls, running straight down his spine while he waits to see what will happen next. Waiting to see if his best friend will toss him overboard for the sharks to tear him to shreds, or waiting for the acceptance that it’s okay to date his daughter.

   It’s like the world stops spinning, the only noise is the bated breath he’s holding while he watches his best friend flip the gifted necklace back and forth repeatedly in his palm. The silence is torture.

   Finally, George looks back up and sighs before licking his bottom lip and muttering. “Here, take it.” He holds the necklace by the clasp and jangles it in front of him, edging on Joel to take it.

   Joel stares at the gleaming key, reading Miller’s Girl in silver letters, the one that belongs to his girl. And when he hesitates, George shoves out his arm again, letting the necklace toss and turn in his grasp. “Take it,” he repeats, a little softer this time. 

   He walks forward, scuffing his shiny boots against the pavement and stops in front of his best friend, till the key is safely back in Joel’s grasp. He looks up slowly and sees George’s eyes almost tear up, but they still hold some faint hesitation in those uncertain irises.

   “Look, it’s gonna take me a while to be okay with this. You’re gonna have to give me a little space to process this, but I… I give you permission to date her because… because I trust you more than any of those other clowns she’s dated. And you lookout for her, especially when I’m not around, and you obviously care a lot. And sounds like you love her a lot. So… if this ever leads to more than just moving in together and dating then… just ask me next time, but I think I’ll be okay with it.”

   Joel’s eyes go wide at the words, and before he knows it he has his arms wrapped tightly around his best friend’s back in pure shock. George pounds a strong hand on Joel’s back and mumbles under his breath that that’s enough. Claire gives him a gentle smile and watches the two friends make up in peace.

   “Thank you, George. For trustin’ me with your daughter.”

   George shoos him away and grits his teeth together into a pressed smile. “Yeah, yeah. Jus’ go talk to your girl, Joel. Let the old man have some space for a few minutes. I need a drink,” he sighs as he heads back inside for a cold beer in the fridge.

   Joel nods to Claire and then makes a beeline for the front door, knowing you're sitting out there in the cold with tears streaming down your beautiful face. He has to fix it.

   The sunset slowly slipping under the grey clouds doesn’t help your mood as another tear escapes down your cheek, falling to the ground with a splash as you hug your knees tighter to your chest while you lean against the front porch railing. You always knew your father wouldn’t approve, and now he’s ruined your most favorite thing in this world.

   You almost miss the large figure that stands behind you until he’s kneeling down and wrapping his arms tightly around you like a warm blanket that drapes over your skin. His usual coffee scent and strong cologne showers you in a still calmness that only he brings you, and suddenly you feel like you’re home. 

   “Joel,” you sniffle into his warm chest, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck while his big hands run up and down your back in soothing motions.

   “‘S’alright, sweetheart. You’re okay now. I’ve got you.” His gentle tone surrounds you in a cloud of comfort, and you suddenly feel warm and light for the first time since your parents saw the two of you kiss.

   “But they… my dad…” You can’t even speak clearly. Your words are all warped and clipped each time you think of how angry your dad was, how violently he ripped into your heart when all you were trying to do was tell him how much Joel meant to you. It was a disaster that was waiting to happen, and you let it.

   “Hey, look at me.” He tips your chin up and brushes the next tear away that clashes against your eyelashes. “Everything’s okay now. We’re okay.”

   You look at him with confusion swirling in your irises as your fingers clasps around his fuzzy flannel you love to wear so much. “We’re okay?” you whisper out in a daze.

   “Mhm,” he nods as a warm smile slips over his plush mouth. He digs into the pocket of his jeans and grasps the silver chain in his palm. Your necklace. 

   “Think this belongs to you.” Joel opens his palm and reveals the silver key that has your name written all over it. The key that promises for a future together, your future. A life with him in it, a step before a lifetime together.

   “Joel… he gave it back?” You gawk as your finger brushes against the metal, clasping your hand over his so you can feel the promise of forever in the warmth of his calloused palm.

   “Mhm. It belongs to you.” He pushes it into your open palm and closes your fingers over the cold silver, letting his hand linger over yours as his warm breath invades your space.

   You take a moment to register what this means, what this might promise. Did this mean your dad… Your eyes flick to his with agility, and your lips part as you exhale a long breath. “Does this mean... Did my dad…”

   A smile curls against his mouth and he nods. “‘S’alright now. After I talked to him, after I explained myself, he listened. He’s okay with us, darlin’. Well, as good as he’ll be right now. Might take some time to mend our friendship back to how it was, but s’okay. We’re gonna be jus’ fine. And you and me? We’re gonna be more than fine.”

   You throw your arms around Joel’s neck and sink your lips against his, letting his cinnamon taste melt into your mouth until you can taste nothing but him. He pulls you against his broad chest and strokes his calloused fingers against the back of your neck, tugging until you’re flush to him so he can ravish and serenade your mouth with the taste and feel of his warm, lush tongue. 

   It only takes minutes of heated passion until he pulls his lips from yours and rests his forehead against yours. You’re both out of breath, but you guess that’s how the two of you always are. Always giving your entire being to each other until the other is completely satisfied. But it’s not about that this time, it’s about finally being able to express your love for each other out in public. No more hiding from your parents, your friends, no one. It’s you and Joel against the world now, and there’s not anything you can’t conquer now.

   He moves your hair across one shoulder and clasps the necklace around your neck, leaving it right where it belongs now. Yours. 

   “There,” he smiles as he glides his fingers over the silver key. “Right back where it belongs. Right over your heart.”

   You take a moment to admire the syrupy eyes that flick to yours as you rake your fingers through his silvery scruff, dragging your nails slowly as he groans at the feel of you. “I love when you do that,” he murmurs as his thumb strokes your bottom lip delicately.

   “Well, get used to it because I’m about to be living with you,” you smile.

   “Mmm. I like the sound of that. You in my arms every single night? Wakin’ up to the glow of your stunning smile? Bein’ able to kiss you whenever I want, wherever I want? Yeah, I could get used to this.” His lips drag down your cheek and end on your lips softly, but then they’re gone in a flash as he traces his fingertips over the back of your hand.

   “Slow mornings with freshly brewed coffee, your lips, and me curled up in your lap? Yeah, I could get used to this, too.” Your lips find his once more, and then you’re floating off in a little bubble, to a place only you and Joel know how to get to.

   When his lips untangle from yours, he smiles and gives you those loving sweet eyes you never can seem to get enough of. “I love you, darlin’.”

   “I love you too, Joel.”

   The evening slips by in a rush. Your parents are weirdly mellow about the whole thing, but your dad still sends a couple snarls your way when he sees you and Joel holding hands. But he surprises you when he sends you off with a hug and a kiss on the cheek before you go back to Joel’s house. 

   It doesn’t take him long till Joel and him are doing fishing trips, watching football games together, and going out for beers again. And you kind of love that Joel didn’t have to lose his best friend over you. No. Joel got to keep both of you, and you couldn’t help but tear up when you saw how close they were again just a month after the whole Christmas disaster. You guess some things just fall into place like you and Joel did.

   You never expected to fall in love with your dad’s best friend, but it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to you. And now? You’re finally free to live your life with your favorite person by your side.

   You don’t know what the next year will bring or the year after, but you know Joel will be there no matter what. 

[fahye]

book recs: feb 2024

(disclaimer: I have spent nearly three months languishing and sullen with post-COVID symptoms and have read, over dec-feb, eighty-one books. this is a ruthlessly streamlined list of recs that does not include, uh, all the rereading of sarah maclean and charlie adhara and georgette heyer books.)

AT FIRST SPITE by olivia dade - what if I moved in next to the man who ruined my engagement to his younger brother, and tried to ruin his life by playing monsterfucking audiobooks really loudly?? a heartfelt and lovely romance that also expertly sets up a great small-town setting for an ongoing series.

THE REFORMATORY by tananarive due - historical horror based on the existence of a real school for boys, clear-eyed and brutal in showing the the effect of racist systems in the 1950s american south. compelling as hell. even if you're not usually into horror, I'd recommend this: the ghost aspect is light-handed and really not as important as the horror of what humans do to other humans.

SOMETHING WILD & WONDERFUL by anita kelly - this is a m/m romance about walking the pacific crest trail which made me see the appeal of very long walks. a miracle! it's gentle and emotional and well put together; the characters really grabbed me.

THE BELL IN THE FOG by lev a.c. rosen - the followup to 'lavender house', and somehow even better?? a historical mystery series featuring a queer private eye in 1950s san francisco who looks into crimes against other queer people. amazing queer history! ACAB! I hope there are fifty more books in this series.

FEAST WHILE YOU CAN* by mikaella clements & onjuli datta - beautiful, greedy, terrifying small-town horror that is also a fucking fantastic, gorgeously written sapphic love story. this one IS for the horror fans. it gave me the absolute creeps but I couldn't put it down.

LADY EVE'S LAST CON* by rebecca fraimow - I described this on bsky as 'if you like Leverage, space opera, old screwball comedies, and dashing sapphics who are at all times spiritually wearing a leather jacket: this one is for you' and I stand by that. huge amounts of fun.

LONG LIVE EVIL* by sarah rees brennan - I will be screaming from here until forever about SRB's first adult fantasy book. if you like the isekai'd-into-a-villain-character setup and want it to be hilarious, genre-savvy and wildly angry and clever, you will roll around in this like a blood-stained mud puddle and then beg for more.

THE LAST HOUR BETWEEN WORLDS* by melissa caruso - really clever and original fantasy about a woman on maternity leave who gets dragged into saving a cocktail party which is falling through increasingly murderous and bizarre dimensions. LISTEN, JUST GO WITH IT. it's a seriously cool adventure.

YOU SHOULD BE SO LUCKY* by cat sebastian - yes, it's another m/m romance about queer history in the mid 20th century, this one between a baseball player and the journalist assigned to write a story about his slump. made me care about baseball. cat is a genius.

*I read these as ARCs, they're not available yet but consider preordering or keep your eye out for them!

[fallenneziah]

Christmas lights and stuffing.

This is the second installment of my Christmas gift to you guys. If you'd like to check out part one with Johnny you can do so here.

Just comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list. Tag list: @mishaglass

NSFW, car sex, creampie, some dirty talk, Simon's joking but he actually does want to fuck you all night. Waist below Afab reader, readers pronouns not mentioned. Smut blurb.

You and Simon had gone out to see a light show. While Simon wasn't a huge fan of all the decorations and the people that were there he endured it. Especially for you. There was something about seeing your rosy pink cheeks, soft lips pulling into a smile when you saw those decorations. There was just something that got him going and he couldn't explain it.

However, Simon had said if he did this for you, there was something he wanted from you.

The two of you were passing by a tent, someone dressed as an elf, supposedly for the kids inviting people in to see Santa.

"Do you want to come tell Santa what you want for Christmas??" The elf smiled softly at you.

Simon leaned over against your ear, whispering huskily against you. “Why sit on Santa’s lap when you can sit on mine?” You gasped softly, slapping him.

"Oh, no thank you, we're alright." You told the worker, walking away with him. "Oh you are bad." You gasp softly, chuckling a little.

“Let’s do something that puts us on the naughty list then, make it official. ” He whispered again, making your mouth fall open slightly when you reached the next fire pit. "Simon be quiet."

His hands slid under your jacket, one going up to your stomach the other down your pants. You attempted to slap him away. "What has gotten into you?? You bad man." You turned, chuckling softly and cupping his face.

"Simon, baby, what has gotten into you? Why are you being so dirty?" You whispered, kissing him.

"I don't know. Maybe it's the season." He smirked, kissing you back.

"Let's go home then, we're almost at the end anyway." You took his hand, leading him down the snow covered path back to the car.

Simon unlocked the vehicle and turned on the heat. The two of you sat there waiting for the car to heat up. "Thank you for coming with me, Simon."

"Mhm, only you..." He leaned over, your gentle hands pulling up his mask meet his lips. He hummed, pressing closer, leaning over to check your seat belt off as he did.

You groaned softly, cupping the back of his head, kissing him deeply over and over.

His hand moved to your thigh, rubbing up between your legs and teasing your sweet spot, finger digging into the seam of your jeans.

You pulled away briefly before diving back into his mouth, sloppily kissing him as you struggled to push yourself up and shift.

Simon moaned, helping you climb over the console to straddle his lap. His hips bucked into yours, a moan leaving him again. You chuckled softly, biting his bottom lip. Your hands pulled at his jacket, pushing it off of him, your hands sliding up his shirt.

He shivered, hissing. "Your hands are cold!" He chuckled, leaning forward, his teeth latching onto your neck.

"Si... Simon!" You gasped, your eyes fluttering closed. Simon pulled you against him, jacking the heat switch and leaning his seat back. He kissed and licked your neck, sucking into the delicate flesh. He pulled off his gloves, his hands sliding under your jeans, squeezing your ass.

"Fuckin' perfect ass." He mumbled.

"Mmm Simon." You whispered. "You're so dirty tonight. I love it." You giggled, rocking your hips down onto him.

He moaned, his hips bucking. He pulled his hands away from your jeans, sliding them up your back, pushing your shirt and coat up.

He pushed your shirt up, cupping your skin, leaning down to latch onto your hard nipple. Making your back arch, moaning and shuddering. "Simon-!"

He flicked his tongue over it, sucking it hard before pulling away, his saliva cooling on your sensitive bud.

"Shit Simon someone could see." You gasp, leaning against him as headlights flash across the parking lot.

He kisses between your ribs cage, licking s strip between the soft bumps of your chest.

"Let 'em see. I'm in a giving mood." He undid his belt with a grunt, stroking his cock out into his palm, his large heavy length leaking pre-cum down the shaft.

You shudder out a warm breath, scooting back a little to take over stroking for him.

"So take it... Yeah..."

"Oh yeah?" You smirked, your fingers running up the vein on the underside of his length.

He nodded, biting his bottom lip, his breath coming out in quick puffs.

"Then get up here and let me suck your dick."

"Fuck." Simon pushed his chair back and you kneeled between the small space of the car, wrapping your warm lips around his length. He grunted, stroking your cheek and pulling you onto his cock.

"Fuckin' beauty..." He watched you with lidded eyes. Your lips stretching around his fat head, tongue supporting the weight of his erect cock.

He grunted, thrusting up into your throat. "Fuuuuck." He shuddered.

You moaned around him, bobbing your head, taking him to the base. You looked up at him with big eyes and he couldn't help the way he felt looking at you.

Watching you pull up on his cock, spitting saliva onto his tip that quickly cooled, making him leak desperately until put your warm mouth around him once again.

Simon growled, his cock throbbing and twitching inside your throat. He didn't want to cum yet. Not yet.

His eyebrows furrowed, pulling you off. "Get up here, sit on my lap. Like a good little sweetheart." He purred, stroking your chin.

He unzips your jeans, pushing them down over your thighs, feeling your warm skin prickle.

You pull your pants off further, climbing into his lap, letting him position the tip of his cock to your sloppy dripping slit.

His fingers slid inside to make sure he had the room before he was confident putting you down on him.

Smacking the head of his cock against your entrance a few times before gripping your hip and guiding you down onto him.

Your mouth fell open, moaning loudly as his length spread you open. Your walls pulsing and throbbing around him.

Simon grunted, his jaw slack and eyes closed as he filled you up.

He gripped you tightly, pulling you up and pushing back down. Your juices coating his cock. His veins pulsing inside your tight heat.

Watching your snatch swallow him easily, bringing him in and pushing him back out, milking him in you.

He pulled you down, holding you there, his cock pressing deeper into you, pressing his mouth to yours.

You gasped, finger nails raking down the back of his head to his nape, rocking your hips.

He bucked his hips, his balls pressing against you, his cock twitching inside you, throbbing.

"Oh yes, fuck yes~" He grips your hips tightly, rocking you against him, feeling your walls clutch onto him like a vice.

"Fuckin' squeezing me like a sleeve, love." He groaned.

You whined, bouncing up and down, the sound of your hips clapping together filling the car.

"Yes yes yes-!" You squeal.

"Fuck, gonna cum." He hissed.

He continued to rock you desperately on his cock. Breaths coming labored and heavy as he throbs inside your sweet cunt.

He smacks your ass, yanking you up, making you gasp. "Come on love, fucking ride that cock like you mean it!"

You gripped his shoulders, riding him fast, moaning. "Siiiimon, Si- fuck, oh god!" You cry, throwing your head back, feeling his thick girth press into that one spot, making you see stars.

You clench your thighs around him, cumming on his cock, fluid squirting around his length and down across the band of his boxers.

"Merry fucking Christmas doll," Simon groaned, bucking his hips up into you and spasming cum inside your womb. His cock throbs inside you, pumping you full of his warm seed.

He leans forward, kissing and biting your chest. He grunts, continuing to fill you up with his warm white semen.

He held you in place, his hips still bucking. He grunted, feeling the last drop of his semen leave him, leaving his dick a sticky mess inside you.

He panted, holding you close, kissing you softly as you both fight to catch your breath.

"Simon... Fuck..." You moan, slumping against him as he slowly pulls you off him, seeing his cum drip from your stretched, gaping hole. Your hips shake as he helps you wipe up a little and button your jeans up.

"Mm, I think we can skip present opening, I don't think I need anything more." You slump back into your seat, smiling softly up at him.

"You are such a. Unpredictable sight."

"It's Christmas Lovie, you don't get let in on the gift until you're unwrapping it."

He does up his jeans and splays his hand over your thigh. You smile softly, feeling full of his seed. A present just for you...

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Is it just me or do I feel like iv would use his jacket to mark the girl he liked. Back off cunts she’s taken sort of vibes. Maybe you could write something along those lines?

I think about this a lot myself, so I definitely understand you and genuinely agree. Also III is being a bestie in this one.

Little part II

His mark

It started so innocently. The whole band was hanging behind the stage after the concert. The conversation was light with people reaching in to nibble on some food and drinks. Your stage outfit, as nice as it was to jump around on stage while the huge lights shined on your body, now that you were in the dim of the back rooms did little to keep you warm. And you so could have just excused yourself from the conversation with the girls, knowing full well that they wouldn’t mind holding the conversation off for a couple of minutes but you just didn’t want to somehow break the atmosphere.

That’s when you felt it. The weight pressing on your shoulders. The heat instantly radiated from the leather that was being so casually draped over your body. Crocking your head to the side you saw none other than IV. But you didn’t even have to look. The smell of him, so familiar and at this point engraved into your brain gave him away. “Could hear your teeth clacking together from across the room, it’s so annoying”, he grunted, clearly trying to seem more annoyed than he was. “My apologies and you shouldn’t have tasked yourself with coming to my rescue”, you sassed back, slipping your arms through the sleeves. “Sometimes my kindness surprises even me”, IV shrugged, leaning equipment boxes. “We will grab some more food”, the girls chirped, making you snap your head back at them, completely forgetting that they were there in the first place.

“Is it bad that I secretly fantasized about wearing this?”, you asked so out of the blue that you were almost convinced that you heard IV choke on his drink, “This is the coolest thing I’ve seen in a long while”. IV stayed silent for a moment before that shit-eating grin spread across his face, “See, depends on what these fantasies entail”, he muttered, clearly delighted with himself. Now it was you who gasped, pushing his chest slightly as you both giggled away.

The next time it happened was in the middle of the show. The open stage, as nice as it was for some parts of the summer, wasn’t all that friendly when the summer rains split the skies. While the first two songs in soaked clothes were kind of refreshing. Rain alsp brought a lower temperature, slowly settling the tremble into your hands. That’s when a familiar figure sauntered closer but you didn’t give it much thought. IV often found himself close to you and the girls. It was his nature, well all of theirs. That’s until IV pulled his guitar off, setting it down and shrugging out of his jacket.

With your eyes already glued on him, you watched him lifting the jacket closer to you. All you could do was shake your head, “Are you insane?”, you mouthed. It was one thing doing stuff like that around the people in the team. A whole different story when fans were involved. “Put it on or I will put it on you”, IV stated flatly. Throwing the jacket up.

The logic within you told you to ignore it. Let it drop. But you couldn’t. It was way too precious. Someone had spent hours making it and it was also his. But just because it was in your hands didn’t mean you had to put it on. You could just hold it for him. Well, wrong. Cause IV dared to cross his arms over his chest as he watched you, and knowing his stubborn ass he would stand there till you did what he had told you to. With an excessive eye roll, you threw the jacket over your shoulder, pushing some of the wet strands away and clinging to your face. “Happy?”, you mouthed, but IV only winked at you before returning to the front of the stage.

And more often than not this had turned into a norm. Going to the bus? His jacket is on your body. Right before the show while the jitters are insane? His jacket. Walking through the backstages while preparing? Band meetings? Rehearsals? The list could go on and on. But since it brought you the same sense of comfort you never voiced it out loud. Too afraid that if you pointed it out he would turn the other way and run for the hills.

“So, where’s your guard dog?”, III's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Smiling you rolled your eyes, pushing a pack of goldfish towards him. “Maybe guarding someone else”, you shrugged, making III snort, “Nice try, I bet all of his security alarms are ringing off right this minute”. You frowned slightly at his words. “Oh come on, tell me that you don’t see a pattern?”, III tilted his head to the side in disbelief. “He’s just been sweet”, you muttered, “Plus, I had told him that I have frog hands and feet. I’m constantly cold”.

III just shook his head, “We all know that but do you see me running after you with a blanket?”. You huffed, letting your mouth drop, “Is this your way of telling me that secretly hate me”, you gave him the best version of puppy dog eyes. “Girl, I held your hair back while you threw up a bottle of tequila, I don’t do that for people I don’t care about”, he pointed out. You leaned in, warping your arms around his lean body, “And that is why I like you”, you muttered again his chest.

Someone cleared their throat and you instantly pulled back. Not far from you two stood IV. The fire in his eyes burning out of control. You expect III to pull back but instead, he casually slung his arm over your shoulders. “In need of a hug too?”, he teased, IV eyes burning holes in his bandmate's face. “Just wondering why you needed one”, IV said through gritted teeth. “Oh, come on, I hug you all good morning and goodnight, don’t start playing favorites”, you slapped III on his chest, pulling out of his hands.

IV equally didn’t waste any time stepping closer to you. And as if it had become your secret skin, the jacket pressed down onto your shoulders. III let out a laugh, shaking his head, “Loud and clear mate, loud and clear”, he saluted before turning back. “Why are you in a pissy mood?”, you crossed your arms over your chest, turning to face IV. His eyes are still on III. “I don’t like when people mess with what’s mine”, he muttered, snatching all air out of your lungs. “What is that supposed to mean”, you muttered, letting him pull you closer to him. “Don’t worry your head about it for now”, IV leaned in pressing a kiss to your temple.

[sxfterhearts]

cookies, necklaces and pigtails

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ non-idol bf!jiung x reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: (very self indulgent) flufffffff

♡ summary: jiung, the ever-loving, sweet boyfriend, meets your extended family for the first time. whilst the rest of the family has reservations against him, your four year old cousin is already a huge fan (read: he may or may not have promised her chocolate chip cookies).

♡ word count: 2,327 words

♡ a/n: thank you sooo much to @hyungseos-cafe for making the moodboard that inspired this :))

//

The sun was shining warmly on the well-kept garden beyond the kitchen windows, providing the roses and herbs your aunt tenderly cared for with some much-needed light to grow and flourish. Your head rested on your palms, watching a stray butterfly breeze past before stopping to admire the white roses. You knew you should’ve been paying attention, but your aunt has been going on and on since the mains were served, so you let her faux-saccharine words slip past you: in one ear, out the other.

You tried to subtly twist your head around in search of your boyfriend, but you didn’t have to look too hard – Jiung stuck out like a sore thumb. His bleached, grey hair bobbing up and down as he helped your mother with the dishes, sleeves of his freshly steamed jacket rolled to expose his lithe, veiny forearms. His eyes met yours for a brief moment, and he flashed you an apologetic smile, wordlessly urging you to return your attention to your aunt. After all, he was always the more sensible, responsible and mature one out of the two of you. The exchange only lasted a few seconds though, before his attention was pulled away by your mother. You only caught a glimpse, but you could tell your boyfriend was listening attentively to her, respectfully nodding at all the right places and providing insightful answers. He was such an angel.

Your attention was torn away by your aunt. “Y/N,” she called your name sternly and you cringed. Even your mother had stopped using that particular tone on you years ago.

“Hmm?”

“Are you even listening? Daydreaming again, aren’t you?” She sighed, as though you had dragged your family’s honour through the mud, yet again. “First, you take a break from school. Now, you’re dating that boy? Tell me, are you even serious about him?”

“Imo!”

“Don’t Imo me! I’m asking because it’s what everyone else wants to know as well. They’re just too afraid to ask you about it. So? What’s your answer?”

It was your turn to sigh this time, rolling your eyes for added effect. Why did your family always have to be like this? “Yes, I’m serious! What makes you think I’m not?”

Your aunt tsked in response. “Young love. You will understand when you’re older. You think love will last forever, just because he promised you the world, then one day he wakes up and realises that actually, he doesn’t love you anymore. These things never last, Y/N. Trust me – especially not when they look like that.”

You had to summon all your willpower to not react impulsively in a physical way, fists coming under the kitchen bench to ball into tight fists. Why on earth were your relatives treating your boyfriend with such disrespect when all he ever did since stepping past those doors was be respectful and helpful and friendly? He even went above and beyond by insisting on buying pastries for dessert, to help set up the picnic tables outside and was even washing the dishes. You were fuming on his behalf. “Thanks… for the advice, Imo. If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the bathroom.” You gritted your teeth, pushing the words out your mouth as you spun quickly on the balls of your feet, eager to get out of the conversation before you said something you couldn’t take back.

On the way to the bathroom, you spotted your boyfriend wiping his hands on a kitchen towel as your mother busied herself with arranging dessert. You hurriedly informed her that you were stealing your boyfriend from her as you grabbed his wrist, pulling him in the direction of the entertainment room.

Your boyfriend complied easily, knowing that something was up the moment you stepped foot into the house. Family was always a touchy subject for you, he knew that much. You got along well with your parents, especially since moving out. Being an only child, the distance certainly helped prevent you from getting smothered by your parents’ love and attention. However, your extended family was a whole different story. Today was the annual family gathering to get your mum’s side of the family together, and you dreaded it every year, like clockwork. Having moved out of the bubble your mum’s family grew up in when you were in primary school, you found it more and more challenging with each passing year to relate to any of your relatives. You found it even harder to put up with their neverending nosiness and nagging.

You’d been to this house many times since your infancy. You knew that as the adults gathered around the dining table and kitchen area, the kids preferred to play amongst themselves outdoors in the garden, leaving the rest of the spacious house empty. 

You breathed an audible sigh of relief as the two of you entered the empty entertainment room hand in hand. You turned around, launching into a rant, “Jiung, I’m so sorry – I know I warned you, but I should’ve seen this coming. It’s just, they’re so, urgh! They’re so annoying! This happens every single year. If it’s not – how did you do in school, it’s – which university did you apply to or what major are you studying. Then it was – what do you do for work, and do you have a boyfriend, or when are you getting married, just…” You sucked in a breath through your teeth, fingers pinching your nose bridge and closing your eyes to compose yourself, trying to contain your frustration. 

As you took several deep breaths, you felt your boyfriend snake his arms around you, his familiar scent mixed with aftershave infiltrating your senses. You could even make out the faint aroma of chocolate chip cookies lingering on his clothes, the aftermath of his brief baking session with your mother. You could feel your tense limbs loosen slightly.

“Y/N,” He said your name, and it made your legs feel like the green and red bits of Jell-O resting in the fridge, waiting to be devoured by your kid cousins. You felt yourself melt even more in his arms as he lightly pressed his pillowy lips against your forehead. “It’s fine, really.”

“But…” You replied in nothing more than a mere whisper. “I feel bad… We were meant to have a relaxing long weekend away at my parents’, who, by the way,” your fingers came to play with the silver necklace hanging around his slim neck out of habit. “Thank goodness – are perfectly normal. How could I forget that we had to visit the rest of the family this weekend?” You huffed, lips forming into what Jiung thought was the most irresistible pout. You were clearly disappointed that your weekend away had not gone as you imagined.

“It’s definitely okay. Besides,” He paused to tug your bottom lip out of the pout and tuck your fringe behind your ears. “I like making cookies. And your mum and I make a good dishwashing team.” Jiung gave you one of his smiles, the ones that make your insides feel all warm and fuzzy, and you couldn’t help but return it with a gummy smile of your own. He always seemed to have this sort of effect on you, always able to disarm your short fuse and bring you back down to earth with a warm touch and a tender smile.

“Eonnie!”

“Oh?” The two of you have never pulled away so fast, basically separating from each other at the speed of light. 

“Looks like we have a visitor.” Jiung announced, turning towards the entrance to find your youngest cousin, a little four year-old girl dressed in a pink princess dress and pigtails. “Hello, little one.”

“Oppa!” You could tell the little girl, Haeun, was way more interested in playing with your boyfriend than you. “Cookies!” That must’ve been why. Jiung told her he was baking cookies with your mum after family lunch, which clearly piqued her interest.

“They’re not ready yet, little one. Do you want other desserts instead? We chopped up some fruit earlier as well.” Jiung replied in a soft voice that was gentler and sweeter than usual. You smiled, watching as he lowered himself to her height, approaching her with a tiny wave, which she returned.

“No fruit, I want cookies.” She replied adamantly.

“I see stubbornness runs in the family.” Jiung teased under his breath, soft enough only for your ears. You laughed in response as you looked around for something to preoccupy your baby cousin. It was an entertainment room after all, surely there would be some books, or a soft toy…

“What’s that?” Haeun asked, curious.

“What’s what?” Jiung replied, now sitting cross-legged next to the girl. You could practically hear the smile in his voice. It seemed like your youngest cousin had your boyfriend wrapped around her little finger.

“This one, it’s shiny!” She took a few quick steps towards him before collapsing and melting into his outstretched arms, fingers coming to grab at the sparkly pendant of his necklace.

It was your second anniversary gift. Jiung had always liked jewellery, and would occasionally talk about how he’d always wanted to wear more accessories but didn’t know how or where to start curating pieces to match his outfits. You offered up your own collection of silvers and golds, but opted to get him a silver necklace when he graduated from borrowing your rings and necklaces (in reality, he had misplaced one too many chains and you were starting to run low) – his had a silver sun pendant, while yours was a matching gold. 

“Oh, this?” He glanced down at the pendant. “It’s a sun. Y/N has a matching one. She got it for me as a present.”

“Bingo!” You cheered as you found a bunch of crayons held together with hair ties and a few pieces of paper (you didn’t question it, knowing that your aunt had two toddlers herself which threatened her vision of running the perfect, tidy household). “Do you want to draw a necklace for yourself, Haeun?”

She nodded happily, running over to you and plopping down on the floor. The three of you gathered together and began to pick out your favourite crayon colours. As you settled on drawing and colouring, you pretended to hide your artworks from each other if one of you dared to sneak a glance at the other’s, leading to several fits of laughs and giggles.

Haeun, ever the observant child, noticed that your boyfriend kept having to brush his hair away from his face while his lanky body was hunched over his drawing. She reached out with grabby hands and tried to comb chunks of his silvery locks into a makeshift ponytail. 

You could see her vision, and couldn’t help but to smile at the sweet interaction. “Here, let me help.”

“Hmm?” Your boyfriend looked up at the two of you, slightly confused.

It wasn’t like it was his first rodeo. You often held his hair back with a headband before cooking or washing his face, and sometimes tied his hair up for him when he was busy doing work. With Haeun working on one side and you on the other, you two girls fashioned Jiung’s hair into two (slightly mismatched) pigtails.

After a few more minutes of silent colouring, “I’m done!” Haeun declared, setting down her crayon. She held out her masterpiece, exhibiting it excitedly to you and your boyfriend. “See, it’s us!”

Indeed, your baby cousin had drawn you and your boyfriend, holding hands, and a little girl next to them, in a pink dress much like the one she was currently wearing. All three of you had bunny-looking ears, presumably to match the pigtails, and matching necklaces. You and Jiung showed her your artwork, but unanimously agreed that Haeun’s was the best out of the three. You made a mental note to go necklace shopping for her later today.

“Haeun! Haeun?” The voice of her mother, your younger (and favourite) aunt, filtered through the hallways.

“She’s in here!”

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I thought you were outsi – Oh!” Your aunt stood at the doorway, pleasantly surprised at how well-behaved her active daughter was. “You got her to sit down. Great job guys!”

“Look, mummy! We drew some pictures!” Haeun ran towards her mother’s feet, passing her the drawing before hugging her feet.

“Wow, you did a great job, sweetie! Are those necklaces?”

“Yes, oppa said eonnie gave it to him as a present.”

The two of you stole glances at each other, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“Did she? Well, your Y/N eonnie must like Jiung oppa very much. Speaking of which,” Your younger aunt turns towards you and Jiung. “I think she’s disturbed the two of you enough now. I’ll distract her with some cookies so you two can get some alone time.” She flashed a knowing smile, and you had to fight the urge to combust in embarrassment.

“We had lots of fun playing with her, imo.”

“Oh, I see she’s done your hair too! And the necklaces, you’re wearing them. Ah, young love,” She sighed wistfully. “How adorable.”

“Cookies! Mummy, I want cookies!”

//

epilogue.

“So, how many do you want?” Jiung asked under his breath, feigning nonchalance whilst his lips worked itself into a sheepish grin.

“How many what?” You asked, distracted. You were trying to find the covers for takeaway containers amongst the pile of dishes.

“Kids, of course.”

A soft clang echoed throughout the now-empty kitchen as you dropped the empty container. Your cheeks reddened so much that when Jiung turned around to check on you after a long silence, he had to cool them down with his hands, which were freezing cold from handling the ice box.

“Too soon?” He couldn’t help but tease, chuckling to himself at your stunned expression.

You nodded.

After a few beats, you whispered, “two, maybe.”